Notes From Here No. 2: Slow Is Still Moving
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I’ve been thinking about pace lately. Not in the way people talk about productivity or momentum, but in a quieter, more honest way.
Just…
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Drafts Are Enough
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Ten things I'd write about if I had the energy.
Today it's four.
Charlotte traffic has lost its mind.
I don't know what happened or when, but something shifted. It's not rush hour anymore; it's just... hour. The merge on 277 alone has taken years off my life. There's a longer post here about infrastructure and growth and what a city owes its people, but I'm tired, so: it's bad out there. Drive safe…
Read MoreHunger is Information, Not Urgency
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I've been sitting with something.
It shows up at work when someone says let's grab lunch and what they actually mean is I need to think out loud and I need a witness. It shows up in family, where Sunday dinner was never really about the food and everyone knew it but nobody said it. It shows up in friendships that only seem to exist inside restaurants, and in romance where cooking for someone is one of the earliest ways we say something we're not ready to say out loud yet.I've been sitting with something.
It shows up at work when someone says let's grab lunch and what they actually mean is I need to think out loud and I need a witness. It shows up in family, where Sunday dinner was never really about the food and everyone knew it but nobody said it. It shows up in friendships that only seem to exist inside restaurants, and in romance where cooking for someone is one of the earliest ways we say something we're not ready to say out loud yet...
Read MoreNotes From Here No. 1: Not Random. Not Impulsive.
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I found myself looking into La Marzocco espresso machines today, not because I’m about to run out and buy one, but because some things feel worth studying before they ever become yours. This feels like one of those things…
Read MoreProfessional Overthinker. Semi-Professional Pizza Enthusiast.
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At some point I started signing my emails that way and nobody said anything, so I kept doing it.
It started as a joke. Or at least that's what I told myself. But jokes have a way of being more honest than the stuff you actually mean to say. Somewhere along the way it stopped being a bit…
Read MoreRandom Observation #7,842,003,491,226
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People have been peopling lately. I'm not sure if my antennae are just up or if the behavior is genuinely escalating, but either way I've started writing things in my Things I give a fuck about notebook…
Read MoreNo Hidden Invoice
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If I love you, that love starts with me.
I’ve been thinking about that.
How real love, for me, is not a trade. It’s not a quiet transaction where I give and secretly hope to be paid back in attention, approval, reassurance, or matching energy.
Read MoreFriday Morning Sensory Inputs
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The alarm wakes me before the world is ready… a small agreement made with the night.
Inside, it’s warm. Heat rises and so do I, nineteen floors up, wrapped in stillness. Outside, the cold presses its face against the windows, sharp and impatient. Winter waiting…
Read MoreWhat Held Up
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I didn’t end this year chasing a better version of myself. I ended it learning how to stay.
Stay with the work when it got quiet.
Stay with people who didn’t need me to perform.
Stay with my body long enough to hear what it was asking for.
Stay when leaving would’ve been easier…
Read MoreOn Forming Purpose
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I used to think purpose was something you discovered. Like a hidden room everyone else eventually found, and if you paid enough attention or waited long enough, you’d stumble into it too. I kept waiting for that click. The moment where everything lined up and pointed in one clean direction…
Read MoreRandom Observation #300,298,754
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Year-End Signals
This time of year always pulls at me in two directions. There’s the part of me that’s still figuring out how to walk through December without flinching. Grief doesn’t circle dates on a calendar, but my body somehow remembers anyway. So while everyone else is swapping travel plans and holiday playlists, I’m moving through the days with a small echo in my chest. Present enough to function, not always present enough to feel…
Read MoreNon-Guilty Pleasure: Splurging on Good Avocado Oil
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I’m not sure when it happened, but I started splurging on avocado oil. Not just any oil the good stuff. The kind that’s smooth, almost creamy, and makes everything taste better. There’s something about opening that bottle, watching the green-gold drip out, and knowing it’s going to make a simple meal feel a little extra. Honestly, it’s one of those little things that feels like a small win, like I’m treating myself without going overboard…
Read MoreNon-Guilty Pleasure: Sunday Naps That Stretch Into Evening
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It’s been a minute since I’ve written here. No grand return, just a quiet one, like waking up from a long Sunday nap…
There’s a certain kind of peace that only hits on a Sunday afternoon. The light’s soft, the air’s slow, and the world seems fine letting you rest. You close your eyes meaning to recharge for fifteen minutes, and next thing you know, the sun’s slipped away. No guilt, no rush, just your body catching up to itself.
Read MoreWhat Remains: Outro
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Thirty days. Fifteen voices. Thirty ways of naming what lingers after the noise fades.
When I started this, I thought I was curating a series. What actually happened was a chorus. Friends, family, e-friends, people I’ve hugged in person and others I’ve only known through screens, you showed up and left pieces of yourselves here. And now this page hums with all of it…
Read MoreWhat Remains: In Memory
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Memory is a living thing, shifting shape as time passes. What remains are the vivid moments, the small gestures, the glances and whispers that shaped us. In memory, love endures, teaching us that those we carry with us never truly leave.
Read MoreWhat Remains: E. Fuller
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What Remains
is our essence
when those we love
no longer have our presence
We leave our attitudes biases
and our values like latent fingerprints…
Read MoreWhat Remains: In Voice
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Our words linger longer than we realize. What remains in voice is the echo of conversations, laughter, and even the things left unsaid. Each syllable becomes a bridge, carrying presence, care, and life into the hearts of others.
Read MoreSaved, A Contribution to What Remains
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Saved
A contribution to What Remains
She was a child in a crowded living room church, tambourines jangling, voices rising until the air itself felt holy. She rolled across the floor, convulsing with something larger than herself, not knowing if it was real this time or just another attempt to belong…
Read MoreWhat Remains: In Faith
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Faith is not only belief, it’s endurance, quiet and steady, through the unknown. What remains is the courage to trust when answers are out of reach, and the reassurance that even in doubt, love and hope are never lost.
Read MoreWhat Remains: Kaela
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A Bite-Size Piece of Growth
What Remains
What remains draws you deep and pushes vulnerability to the forefront. Like a mirror, it reflects what is, while your memories emphasize what was. Isn’t it strange that what was lost is easily identifiable, but naming what remains can be challenging? It’s so easy to look back and realize a piece chipped off here, something was lost there, and then to find yourself here… looking at what remains. The losing, the chipping, made room for restoration, elevation, and renewal. To remain means that what was is not the same… and that brings me joy.
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