Tag: love

  • Dichoso El Árbol

    Music. For most, it is simply entertainment. For some, it fills the silence. For others, it is just noise, or a distraction from what weighs on the mind. But for a smaller number, music is more—it is healing, it is connection, even a kind of spiritual touch. For me, it is a bit of all…

  • More Than a Story

    When I was a kid growing up, like any other kid, I had dreams about what I wanted to be when I grew up. A writer wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t even on the radar. Not even in the same universe. Yet here I am, telling stories. Like most kids, my list was the…

  • Not Just Here, But HERE

    It started as an observation. Not a complaint — at least I don’t think it was. Why do we write referrals for things that could be solved with a conversation? A student taps a pencil too long.Another mutters under their breath.One rolls their eyes. And instead of stepping into the hallway for two minutes of…

  • A Conversation with That Guy in the Mirror

    There are some days — not often — when I need expert advice. Or at least someone intelligent enough to argue with me without filing a complaint. It doesn’t happen much. And I don’t usually tell anyone when it does.The last time I mentioned it out loud, I was one concerned look away from an…

  • Like Therapy – No Appointment Required

    Life is a journey—and what a messy, beautiful one it is. There are peaks that make you feel invincible, and valleys that make you question if you packed the right shoes.  Triumphs feel like fireworks; failures feel like stepping on Legos in the dark. Each stumble, each victory, leaves a little mark, whether we notice…

  • Yeah, I Told You So

    There’s a side of being an educator we don’t talk about much. At least not in staff meetings. Maybe over coffee. Definitely in therapy. It’s not just about caring. It’s about pattern recognition.  It’s a very human thing. And God knows, the kiddos already think of me as anything but human. In my role as…

  • Out of Office… Somehow Still Here

    This past weekend, a group of us got caught up in one of those group texts that starts light — a string of funny memes, a few inside jokes — the kind that makes you laugh out loud in the middle of Saturday morning.  But somehow, almost inevitably, work wormed its way into the conversation.…

  • Just Like Hers

    Funny how when you have a hankering for something, it doesn’t matter what else you have.If it’s not that one thing, you’re not satisfied.You’re left with just a little emptiness. You can have a fridge full of options, a pantry stocked like you’re prepping for winter, and still… none of it counts if it’s not…

  • Somewhere Between

    There is a quiet moment each night that almost no one talks about. You lie in bed. The room is dark, except for the faint glow sneaking in around the curtains. The ceiling fan hums its familiar rhythm. Your eyes are barely a slit — not open, not closed — just enough to blur the…

  • Got a Minute?

    Conversations can be a source of great entertainment.And sometimes great discomfort. I’ve had the dubious distinction of experiencing both — sometimes in the same day, often back to back, and once — memorably — in the very same conversation. That part still fascinates me. How can something begin as amusement, drift into awkwardness, and somehow…

  • Still, I Walk 

    There are many who move through the world carrying more than they reveal. You pass them every day—at stoplights, in hallways, in quiet moments of laughter that arrive right on time.  They are not broken. They are not asking to be saved. They have simply learned how to live with weight and still walk upright.…

  • Like Molding Clay, But With Words Instead

    When I first started my blog, I had a very clear vision for it. It was going to be my place to offer observations, rapid reactions to issues in education, and—if I’m being honest—to become one of those people other educators sought out for advice, knowledge, and expertise. I tried. I really did. But it…

  • Like the moon in broad daylight…

    Visible, yet unnoticed.Present, yet somehow distant.It hangs there quietly, pale against the blue sky,as if it doesn’t quite belong to the hour it inhabits. There is something aching about it—a reminder of night in a world that has already moved on to morning.A soft glow that no one asked for,a light that wasn’t meant for…

  • Longing…

    Longing for human touch begins as a subtle stir beneath the skin, a tremor of sensation that no words can fully name. It is in the brush of your own fingertips along your arms, in the ghost of a hand that might have held yours, in the quiet ache that rises where warmth is missing.…

  • Several Hundred Words Later

    We’ve all been there. Not as heroes, not as villains—just as silent witnesses to someone else’s emotional eruption. That strange moment when you realize you’re no longer part of a conversation, but the audience to a performance you never bought tickets for. You don’t interrupt.You don’t argue. You simply stand there, nodding politely, mentally taking…