For most of my life, I had this terrible thumb-biting problem.

One of my favorite things is to give my dog Bird water when we’re in the car.

One of the greatest gifts I got from my time with Kathy Delaney-Smith was the permission to live wholeheartedly while letting people see how hard I was trying.

Earlier this year, I heard the words “adoptee” and “adoptee trauma” for the first time. 

I’m writing about this book because I can’t stop thinking about it.

My mom burned her journals when she was young.

An old man, his mouth open, watched my brother lift a heavy chest of drawers and maneuver it up into the moving truck.

This is the hardest thing I have ever tried to do.

You have always told me how beautiful I am and how lucky you were to get me. I think I was (am) afraid by this seemingly boundless potential that was handed me—was I a princess who deserved everything? Sensibility told me no. So did that mean I was basically nothing? Sensibility was speechless.

SAVE THE DATE!

Stillness is our breath, our heart, our body, where we reside. Tornado is the mind, a place of stories and of others.

I can’t talk about David’s book as a whole here because that would be like trying to explain New York City to you in a single breath.