sacred boundaries

  • He was the confessional without the collar. No stained glass. No wooden booth. No priest waiting patiently on the other side of a little brass screen. Just a telephone that was almost always on speaker and a man who could never keep his sins inside his own mouth. Behind closed doors, they poured out. The…

    Read more →

  • “I am a version of you.And you are a version of me.” That is the part people hate hearing. Because if I am a version of you, then somewhere inside your chaos lives the awareness you keep trying to outrun. And if you are a version of me, then somewhere inside me exists the same…

    Read more →