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Writing in-and-of-itself can be a microcosm for life. The other day my goal was to edit a poem I wrote last spring, but what came out of that editing period was "Inseparable" and my old poem still in need of attention. We don't live our lives in a vacuum, and I think it's quite powerful to reflect on how our lives have been shaped by our experiences. This is not to say we are forever ensnarled by our past experiences (this is where mindfulness can help), but our habits and perceptions were shaped in those formative years of early childhood.

Sometimes, I will come across a piece of text that simply zings me. I still remember where I was when I read this following excerpt from Anne Lamott's book, Grace (Eventually) Thoughts on Faith:

“When I was a child, I thought grown-ups and teachers knew the truth, because they told me they did. It took years for me to discover that the first step in finding out the truth is to begin unlearning almost everything adults had taught me, and to start doing all the things they'd told me NOT to do...They were all running around in mazes like everyone else."


by Lauren Taub Cohen

Hydrangeas planted

in acidic soil

absorb aluminum

which cause the

pointy-tipped petals

to turn a bewitching shade

of cerulean blue.


if the soil's pH

is neutral

then aluminum

cannot be absorbed

and so the hydrangeas

turn a flushed shade

of coquettish pink.

Can't the same be said

of us?

Don't we


take on the color

of our experiences

and reflect

the home

from which

we came?

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