About Words of Whimsy and Wonder
Whimsy and wonder are powerful agents of change. Whimsy describes a playful, and often unusual or unexpected nature. Wonder happens when surprise mingles with something beautifully admirable, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.
My words form when whimsy and wonder mingle together. It’s my hope these same words will invite more whimsy and wonder into your life.
My monthly newsletter features a reflection on a topic that’s been at the forefront of my mind over the last month, my latest writings, and a short story. I work through topics such as mental health, relationship and sexual violence, religious trauma, colonization, identity, sexuality and kink, and navigating life transitions through poetry, fiction, and personal essays.
Monthly Reflections
I’m struggling to find words as I write this. Funny considering my recent decision to invest in my writing as a source of income. I don’t normally struggle with writer’s block. Writing has been one of my favorite forms of expression and communication since I was a child. It’s a skill I’ve used to know my inner world better, develop my understanding of the world, to communicate academic knowledge into common language, and to build my career. It only makes sense I would choose this form of communication to carry me into the next phase of my life and career, and yet I find myself continually struggling to connect with the written word in the ways I’m accustomed to. Perhaps that’s the point of it all.
My life is in transition right now, demanding I evolve rapidly. I don’t know where life is leading me or how I’ll arrive at that point. This lack of certainty makes it difficult to connect with anything beyond the present moment. Moments that are overwhelmingly filled with grief, fear, rage, and despair as I watch the world around us crumble, and my footing in falling away.
I was laid off from my job in violence and suicide prevention on federal contracts with a large non-profit research institute in early July. It was my dream job. The issues I’m most passionate about, serving the populations I know best, and leading a small part of the work with the potential to transform the world. Lofty words, I know. But just imagine the implications of successfully implementing a public health approach to violence and suicide prevention in some of the most historically violent institutions in the country. That’s the work I got to be part of. That’s the work I was preparing to start a Doctor of Social Work program for. That’s the work I spent my entire career preparing for. And now it’s the work being systematically defunded to support a violent political ideology tearing our communities apart.
I’m no stranger to getting back up after a hit slams me to the ground. I’m deeply familiar with the underbelly of humanity, both as a survivor and as an advocate. This is different though. These hits aren’t temporary setbacks I can recover from with a little R&R. These are the outcomes of various events beyond my control colliding at once. Events with long lasting, society changing implications.
Layoffs in my field aren’t uncommon. We’re grant funded work, and when the money dries up so does the work. What’s different here is the massive cuts across the entire industry. Funding hasn’t gone to a partner or competitor; it’s been entirely cut. With that reality in mind, I’m embracing an opportunity to approach my career in creative and non-traditional ways. In the past I would have jumped into the job market. This time around I’m asking myself how the things I’ve learned in my academic and professional training can be applied in new ways.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. Your paid subscription makes it possible for me to explore this World of Whimsy and Wonder and to share whatever creations I discover in there.
Latest Writings
I post a mix of poetry, personal essays, and short erotica scenes weekly.
These posts are free and available to share!
Letter to My Inner Girl
Sweet girl,
This isn’t the story you asked for. You never wanted to battle demons or challenge the Gods. You had no desire to tuck in weary from another day of surviving the trenches. You wanted flowing skirts and soft curls. Not armor and plaited hair.
You dreamt of a life under the warm sun. Tending a bountiful garden. Surrounded by fragrant flowers. You imagined a soft breeze tickling your skin. Color bursting all around you. A sweet, delicate life for a sweeter, more delicate girl.
But here you stand. Hardened by years of unspoken agony. Tears have carved a permanent path down your soft face. Scars scattered across your skin. The story of your pain made visible. You have finally grown into the armor that was once too big. You’re now strong enough to wield your sword, and wise enough to lay it down.
You have fought so hard, often alone. Please know you aren’t alone anymore. An army of wise women surround you. They are healers, thinkers, givers, and feelers. They hold you in their hearts. They breathe life into you when you gasp for air.
This may not be the fairy tale you dreamed of, but rest assured you will have your happy ending. And it will be all the sweeter because even after a weary battle has hardened your shell, you still kept your heart soft and your mind flexible. You not only persevere in the hardship, but you preserved the most delicate and tender parts of you. And that, my sweet girl, is a victory to celebrate.
Love,
The Woman You BecomeLessons from the Grandmothers
Wash with lavender soap.
Take the money first.you okay?
I’m not okay.
I'm angry. Fist to wall. Knife to skin.
Cackle while I bleed out kind of rage.
Maniacal rage consuming me.
I'm not okay.
I'm disgusted. Maggots and roaches surround me.
Putrid rot permeates the air I desperately need.
I'm not okay.
I'm heartbroken. Despair haunts my dreams and agony controls every waking moment.
Day after the day, flames of hell calling me home.
I am not okay.
Smile. I smile. Bright. Brighter. Brighter! I said FUCKING BRIGHTER!
So they don't see.
Death under those pretty eyes.Always, Little Girls
It's always little girls. Paying the cost.
Rollback
Restrict
Deny and defund
Just little girls. No power or strength.
Just little girls. They’ll be fine.
All bows and frills. They won't even know.
Just little girls.
So many little girls. Carrying debts of fathers and grandfathers and grandfathers before them. Look at easily she
Loves
Shares
Forgives
Sweet little girls. Soft giggles. Games of magic. Twinkling eyes. It's what little girls do. Dress up, play house, never complain.
Little girls. They give and give and give and give.
Hearts
Minds
Bodies
Spirits
Of so many little girls. Holding it all. Bearing the weight alone. Stronger than any man she knows. With her bruised heart, fractured mind, broken body, and stolen dreams.
Forgotten little girls. Washed away in the missing pages of
History
Always, little girls
From the Memories of the Rivers of Eden
A Short Story
A gentle thrumming rippled through as celebratory sounds echoed across the still surface of the water. A stillness held the air, a breath waiting for release. Something small sat curled into itself at the grassy bank. A tearful face hid behind a veil of long dark hair, salting the water as they fell. . “Nara, come! Your groom is waiting,” a woman’s voice yelled into the shadows. The figure stood, solemnly following the voice.
Nara came to the bank to wash early the next morning. The air was still cold, but a colder chill swept through when she entered the water, as though she held the icy depths of the ocean inside her. She tore off her clothing. Screaming as though it were on fire. Scrubbing the clothing with a violent force. Gentle waves formed around her, rippling her pain into soft crashes on the shore.
“A salt scrub helps,” a lion-haired woman said as she approached from the woods opposite Nara “I know what I’m doing,” replied Nara. “I don’t doubt that, just sharing what I’ve learned,” her words were soft and confident. Nara paused and glanced at her. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. Be untamable,” the woman cooed. She softly placed her hands on Nara’s shoulders and leaned into her, “Be so fucking insane they fear you.” A gentle roar vibrated in the back of her throat and caught on the light breeze. e. A ray of sunlight caught on her cherubic face, and her eyes sparkled with the depths of the underworld. “Meet me here tomorrow and tell me how it goes,” she said, sauntering back into the woods.
* * *
The sun was peeking over the horizon when Nara arrived at the bank early the next evening. She dipped her garments in the water and poured salt on them. The lion-haired woman emerged from her edge of the woods, a basket of clothing in her arms.
“Lucky you, only having to scrub one set. I have a household to wash after.” Nara raised her eyes in question. “I’m Sol. I care for the home in town your men visit when they can’t get what the good scripture forbids at home.” Nara stiffened at Sol’s words. “They’re not my men,” Nara said.
“What are they to you then?”
“Captors. Jailers. Enslavers.”
“Another thing we have in common.”
“Caution befriending a wife of the village, you may get caught in the shadow of sin always following her” Nara whispered. “Caution befriending a woman that might tempt a wife with wicked ways” Sol winked.
A bird suddenly burst through the trees, drawing the women back to their reality. Nara quickly packed her garments and ushered a good-bye to Sol. “I’ll see you here tonight, if you wish to befriend someone,” Sol called softly. There was a pause in Nara’s movement, and then she was gone.
Nara emerged from her edge of the woods just as the waning moon rose above the trees. She glowed in the soft light, as though a vessel for the secrets of the night sky. A dark, angry shadow was cast across her face, unmoving. She relaxed when Sol emerged from the opposite end of the woods. They crossed the short distance between them, quickly finding each other in an embrace in the middle of my shallow river. They held each other as Sol gently brushed her fingers through Nara’s silky hair, soothing her with whispers so soft even the wind didn’t hear. Nara’s breath hitched before she softened into Sol’s arms. Their lips met slowly. They moved with a gentle ease under the night sky,
“How can I return to my life after this?” Nara asked. “You don’t. Play your role when the sun is up and meet me each night. It’s all just a game, so we do as we desire when no one is watching,” Sol grinned as she spoke. “You speak as though rules are not real,” Nara sighed.
“They are only as real as we allow.”
“I think the village leader would disagree with that. He says they’re ordained by the heaven’s. That to question them is to question the knowledge of the creators.”
“He speaks nonsense. I come from the creators and I assure you, there are no rules. Only our dreams,” Sol insisted. Nara sighed, trying to imagine a world made of her dreams. “I dream of telling stories, of sharing the secrets in my heart,” she whispered. The wind fluttered as she spoke, dancing with the vibration of her words. The trees rippled in the breeze, sending night birds into the sky. Sol faced her, inviting her to share more. Nara paused for a moment, then whispered, “I come from a world on the other side of fire. We fly on the backs of beasts larger than your greatest trees and drink from waters turned purple by the red sun. We eat fruits so rich and sweet, they extend life, and yet we dance with death.”
Sol softly kissed Nara’s eyelids. “The world I come from whispers of portals between us all. Places where things are unfinished, and possibilities are endless. They say a thread hangs from each of us, waiting for a tug to unleash the tapestry it will weave. I do not know if I fell into this world or if my thread was tugged. Only that I was here one day, fated to care for the souls this world throws away,” Sol said.
* * *
Sol waited for Nara at the river for hours each day. Sometimes visiting two or three times. Nara didn’t return to the river until the moon had grown full and began to wane again. It was a clear night when she returned. The shadows cast across her face faded to a deep yellow. She undressed slowly, revealing new ones scattered across her body. She washed gently, moving slowly in places pulsing with pain. The waters of life flowed through her, quiet but steady as the currents that turn the earth. After washing, she lay in the warm sun and pulled a paper and quill from a simple bag. She scribbled at first, as though words were being forced faster than her hand could move. Each word purged a rage burning inside her. She radiated with power. With an agonizing scream, she tossed the paper and quill to the ground, and threw her head back in anguish. She screamed until she released a torrent of tears into the grassy earth. She lay on the earth emptying herself. Frantic screams slowing to deep sobs. She slowly rose and swept the papers into the river.
I saw the devil in his eyes when he lunged at me. At first, I feared, and then I remembered. My life has no value. I’m nothing more than a vessel to birth his legacy. Death would be a gift. A return home. …my heart stopped when she looked at me …she tasted like sunshine... I suddenly remembered how desperately I wanted to live. He spat at me and said, “get on your knees and show me I am your lord.” If I were to worship anything, I think it might be dreams. I want to be left to these waters when I die. The only place I’ve found love in all of this.
Laughter danced on Sol’s lips when she stepped out of the woods late in the day. She moved slowly, delighting in the hummingbirds darting among the blooms. “This has always been my favorite time of the day. I love the warmth of the high sun” she said. A butterfly danced across her path as though delighting in her words. “Until recently that is.” A playful smile parted her lips as she teased the wind with her secrets. Time stopped as she held the world’s attention. “Now I love the night and grieve during the day. A child of the shadows and wife of man has captured my heart.” She mused, a sadness tightening her throat. “It can never work. We are from worlds never meant to meet. Trapped in a place never meant to be.” A bumblebee fluttered near her ear, eliciting a giggle. “Star crossed lovers do make for the most delicious stories, don’t they?” soft laughter rang in her voice, only the hint of a quiver beneath it.
She shifted and stretched lazily in a long patch of sun. Luxuriating under the warm sun, moving only to sip her sweetened water.
Moonlight crested the wooded canopy when Sol woke. Long, soft shadows curtained the ground. A branch snapped in the distance, pausing nature’s movements. Sol’s eyes glowed a warm brown, as though she held a muted sun inside them. She softened when Nara emerged from her edge of the woods. She rushed across the soft grass to embrace her. Nara stepped into the light, revealing the shadows scattered across her body. “Nara, what did he do to you?” “He didn’t like it when I was untamable,” Nara said. “Oh Nara, I would have never suggested it if I had known.” The women held each other, slowing their breathing in rhythm to the other. “He may own me, but I will never be his,” Nara finally said.
* * *
Nara awoke first and cried out when she saw the sun rising rapidly against an overcast sky. She pulled Sol in for an embrace, holding her as though she were an anchor to the world itself. She forced herself to pull away and rush home, a look of defiance across her face. Sol watched for Nara throughout the early part of the day.
The wind picked up, becoming cold and sharp. The sun disappeared behind darkening clouds, and rain threatened but did not fall. The clouds grew fuller as the sky darkened and a storm threatened on the horizon. Nara’s side of the bank remained still through the passing day. The air grew thick with tension as the day stretched on. Sol tread quietly from her side of the woods just before the sun set. She settled in a soft spot and watched the sky while she waited.
Sol breathed a sigh of relief when Nara emerged from her edge of the woods. “You made it,” she cried as she ran toward her and pulled her into an embrace. Nara collapsed into Sol’s arms and released a soft cry. “I am not made to be a wife, and yet it is the only path laid out before me,” Nara said when words finally found her. “It may be the only one you can live in the light, but it is not the only path you have. You have me. You have the magic of this place,” Sol whispered. “We fell through this portal and found each other. Our threads are intertwined and that is everything.” Nara pulled her closer, tasting the promise of easy love and gentle days on her lips.
Fire light and angry voices burst from the edge of the woods. “This is why you refuse me? Because you have been enraptured by a whore?” a man demanded. Nara pushed Sol behind her, positioning herself in the middle. “You may be my husband under the law, but you are not who my heart belongs to,” Nara said, a quiet strength to her voice. “The law is all that matters, Nara. No one is concerned with your heart.” More angry voices emerged, some carrying torches and others wood or rope. “She seduced my wife in the ways of sin. Grab her,” the husband demanded.
Nara and Sol tried to run but the rocks were slick and they couldn't get their footing. The men reached them quickly. The husband held Nara back while she thrashed against him. The others circled Sol, caging her like a hunted animal. She fought them fiercely but was not powerful enough to overcome the mob. Nara cried out while they built the makeshift pyre and tied Sol to it. “You will watch her burn, and trust this is your fate if you refuse to accept your fate,” the husband said. “If she burns, I will burn with her,” Nara spat. “Torch it,” he ordered.
Sol held Nara’s gaze as the flames caught. She did not break her hold when the smoke grabbed at her or when it filled her lungs with black tar. She cried out once when the flames caught at her feet and licked their way up her legs. “From ash I came, and to ash I shall return. Destined to rise again, a spirit that will haunt your days until my love is free,” Sol cried out as the flames consumed her. Nara collapsed at the edge of the bank, cutting herself on the rocks as she scrambled toward Sol. The husband held her back, laughing cruelly at her grief. “Let this be a lesson. Defying me is defying the law of this land and the teachings of our great creator.” he spat. Nara raised her head and met his eyes. “You do not know the demon you unleashed. Husband.” Cold fury burning with edge each word.
* * *
The wind blew warm and low the following day. The sun cast a hazy glow against the heavy gray clouds. Sol’s ashes mixed with the waters at my shore, merging with the salt in Nara’s tears and promises in her words. Life buzzed quietly, as though afraid to disturb Sol’s ashes.
The moon did not rise when the sun set. Perhaps there was no light left in her either. Was it possible for the men to put out all the light there was?
The night passed with no sign from Nara. It was near dawn when she emerged from the wood’s edge. She was so pale against the night sky it appeared as though the moon walked the earth. Rivers of grief flowed freely from her sad eyes. She moved slowly toward Sol’s ashes, falling to the ground when she reached the bank and found most had washed away. She gently scooped the remaining ashes in her hands and carried them to the grassy edge. She laid them in an open patch for the light to find. Nara curled protectively around the ashes and finally rested. She did not move when the sun reached its highest point or when the evening crickets sang. The sky darkened into another black night. The morning star had just risen when the voices of men came searching for her. The fire they carried was a distant glow, but their voices rang with immediate anger. I gently splashed against the bank, trying to stir life back into her. Her head rose slowly, creased with the rocks she had lain on throughout the day. Her eyes were as red as the blood she washed away in her early days at my bank.
“There you are, wife,” the husband said.
* * *
Nara rose slowly. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the flame-bearing man in front of her. She glared at him and spit at his feet. “You think you have the power to defy me?” he mocked. The men circled them, trapping her between them and me. She stepped back, watching closely. “You plan to run away to the woods? Live among the heathens and whores?” the husband taunted, stepping closer with each word. Nara stepped deeper into my waters. The men closed in around her, pushing her deeper in. I felt life thrumming powerfully from her, beating in tandem with my deepest currents. “Nara, let’s not play silly games. Come home,” the husband cooed. The clouds shifted again. The morning star peaked through the haze and shone gently on Nara through the clearing in the trees. Her breath steadied, her heart slowed, and the life inside her went silent. “Nara, do not make me come into the water to get you,” the husband said. Irritation laced his voice, and the threat of violence rumbled underneath it as he stepped angrily toward the riverbank. The clouds followed, unleashing a torrent of rain as lightning cracked across the sky. “It’s time to stop playing childish games and return home,” he demanded.
“This is my home,” Nara said. She raised her hands up toward the sky as a bolt of lightning flashed through the trees. The world was white with light. I heard the men screaming, fear and horror in their words as they stood frozen in place. Nara collapsed into me. Ash scattered all around.
The husband turned to the men, disgust and rage in his eyes. “Let this be a lesson! Any woman refusing to submit to her wifely duties will be destroyed by the creators themselves!”
* * *
Nara emerged from my waters first. Instead of legs, she slithered on her belly. Brightly colored scales sparkled in the sunlight. She moved cautiously until she found Sol’s ashes and laid a single egg. Sol emerged from the earth slowly. A single bud of life at first, but in time her branches grew high and glistened with brightly colored fruit. In the quiet of the woods, they almost forgot the men from their earlier life. Days and nights faded gently into each other, and the women loved in a world of their own making. Until Nara caught a familiar scent and the wind warned of a familiar voice.
The husband emerged from the woods on a bright, warm day. A day full of promise and hope. A young woman walked behind him, her hand gripped tightly in his. “My father created all of this. A beautiful world for us to prosper in,” he claimed as he gestured to the beauty around him. The woman followed his movements until her eyes landed on Sol. “You must know to never eat of this tree or drink of these waters,” the husband warned. The young woman moved near the tree, eyeing the red fruit dangling from the branches. “The fruit looks perfectly delicious, why must we not eat it?” she asked. “These fruits unleash the knowledge of evil in your mind,” he warned. Nara slithered up the tree for a better view, her scales glistening in the light. The light caught the young woman’s eye. “Strange, a serpent with the coloring of a hummingbird. I do think I’ll be back here,” she whispered as the husband led her away.
* * *
What’s Up Next
I’m learning this new platform and adjusting to the shifting pace and responsibilities of my life as I navigate this professional transition. I hear a calling to return to my roots in direct service, but with the insights and tools I’ve learned not only in my professional journey, but in my personal healing experiences. Writing will continue to be a part of this transition. A place to record my experiences and the way I understand the shifting world. A place for creative expression and imagining new ways of living. Even a place for occasional escape when the pain of reality is simply too much to bare and we need to turn to words of comfort, love, and a little bit of whimsy and wonder.
I share a piece of work every week, which includes poetry, erotica, and personal essays. I write about my human experience- love, dreams, and the kaleidoscope of experiences shaping me at any moment. The paid subscription provides access to my monthly newsletter, which includes my “reflection of the month” and a (amateur) short story.
I’m excited to share this journey with you!