Manna Meditations

seeing into the future …

Manna Meditations, Day 31

Yesterday, in a moment of joy, I lifted my iPhone to a dogwood branch knotted with small dark buds – the hope of things to come.

By accident, though, I snapped a photo of my own upturned face, lit with quiet wonder.

I offer these two images today in humble recognition that they are both, in a way, photos of the same thing:

Unguarded Hope.

And also, beauty.

Because really:  anyone who can see hope outside herself is someone who harbors it safe within, too…

And that, friends, is a deeply beautiful thing. ❤

Everyday Wonder

on flowers and fearlessness …

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always loved flowers best just before their petals fall … 

It’s as if, in the final days of their existence, they decide — at last — to open fearlessly wide, in the most elegant disarray. 

They hide nothing. Hold nothing back …

And then they’re gone.

Today, I’m contemplating the bouquet of white tulips that a dear friend gave me, since they seem to be doing just that:

Ah, Lord… Teach me to be that open, always. ❤


Ask me anything …


Can I tell you a secret?  It’s weird, keeping a blog.  I post photographs and snippets of poetry — sometimes shamelessly personal prose.  I dream in blazing black-and-white, and then I come here and splash those dreams on the screen.  Still, though …  There’s so very little you know about me.  

And you know what else?  There’s probably even less I know about you.

So today I thought we’d try to change that.


My proposal is this: ask me anything.  Pose whatever question you’d like in the comment section — whether it’s serious or silly, profound or profoundly mundane — and I’ll try to answer it, either there or in a separate post.  In exchange, all I ask is that you reveal something interesting about you. 

(Think of it as a meeting of new friends around a big, round table.  Imagine there’s coffee.  Or a bottle of your favorite wine.)

As always, I reserve the right to delete any comment that makes me uncomfortable.  That said, I’ll sincerely try to meet whatever genuine and thoughtful question you throw at me… whether I get two questions, or twenty.


Cheers, friends… Here’s to many sweet conversations to come. ❤


What Happens Next

The truth behind the quiet …

If you’ve been reading my words for awhile, you may have noticed a quiet here, building.  It’s not that I haven’t been posting; it’s just that I haven’t been saying very much.

This is a tell:  it’s something I always do before I’m about to speak.  

… A little intake of breath, I suppose.


Tomorrow, I’m going to reveal a new project to you.  It’s a simple one, but like all of my projects, it’s going to require some vulnerability from me.

Honest words?  Sharing myself in this space — my body and my story — has always been hard for me, but it’s been a little harder than usual lately.  There are more readers here than there used to be, and in recent months, a few of them have paid me more attention than I was entirely comfortable with.  It’s taken me a little while to get my head around that, to figure out how to manage it, and to decide, at last, not to let it silence me.

Because if I’ve learned anything from my little blog, it’s this:

The place just outside of my comfort zone?  That’s where the magic happens.


So.  If you stop by tomorrow night, I’ll be talking about what’s next and about why it’s so important to me.

And maybe we can make a little magic together…


See you then. ❤


Coming Out of the Quiet

It’s been awhile since you saw my words here — almost a month since my last post.  In real life, I’ve been busy … sometimes even frantic.  But in this space I’ve let the silence fall like a curtain, heavy and thick.

I needed that silence.

On the heels of my last series — Same Body, Second Glance — I felt tired in a way I haven’t before.  I’m not talking about a tiredness that comes from writing a lot, or shooting a lot, or editing a lot.  I’m used to that sort of thing.

I’m talking about an exhaustion that comes from a steady daily output of white-knuckled vulnerability.  Which is a different thing entirely.

Don’t misunderstand me:  I never felt this exhaustion was negative.  It was necessary for me, and good, in the way that exhaustion after a long, hard workout is necessary and good.  But I knew I needed to respond to it.  So I stepped away, and I rested.

And in the meantime, the snows melted, and spring unfolded outside my windows… Lush.  Rainwet.  Green.  The birds returned, waking me at first light with their warbling.  In the afternoons I’d find velvety pink rose petals scattered on the steps to the backyard.  Then there was the scent of it:  turned earth and damp leaves.  Honeysuckle.

I stayed silent.  I photographed nothing.  I drank in the green and, for almost a month, felt no obligation to explain it to anyone.  In this way, I reminded myself that my life was my own…

My story.

My body.

My words.

These things are all mine, to give or to keep as I choose.  They always have been.

And yet, after enjoying them for awhile, I am ready, again, to share them with you.

I suppose I always knew I would be.


Welcome back, friends.  ❤

What Happens Next

Breaking Silence

I’ve been quiet for more than a week here — maybe you noticed.

I needed that time to step away … to sink into silence.  Sometimes I need silence the way so many good green things need winter — maybe you know what I mean.

Not long ago, I mentioned that I’ve been mulling a new project for this space … one that requires more openness than I’ve had to muster before.  Vulnerability always comes at personal cost to someone, and you’re reading these words because I’ve decided I’m willing to pay it.

All that to say this:  on Friday, I’ll unveil something new here.  Some people will like it, some people will hate it, and some people just won’t get it.  I’m okay with that.  What I know for sure is, I’m after the beauty, always.

I hope to build something small and humble and beautiful here:  to break silence and turn winter to Spring.

I hope you’ll come along.