Stream of Consciousness

My Room

I lie on my bed floating
in a sea of sensations…
The joy of a colorful world map
tacked to white walls.
The comfort of my grandfather’s photograph
smiling from the shelf.
The soft glow of golden lights around the ceiling.
The pang of singleness in the moment,
the wondering of who will come.
Fresh vision granted in the excitement of
current opportunities.
The satisfaction of revising media platforms.
The image of mischievous smiles and bright eyes
I hope my own future sons will mimic one day.
The fear of sending a stupid email
that could open a whole world.

The wonderment of meeting celebrities,
The overwhelming peace of experiencing
how normal and good they can be.
The worthiness of prayers for years
and the quiet questioning if they will be worthy
for years to come.
The spots of emptiness for times gone by
and cherished moments never to be.
The love of sisters no matter the distance.
The warmth of blankets and depth of pillows.
Eagerness standing on the edge of the future.

Tears coming for the known and the unrevealed,
the knife and the oil,
the pangs and the gratitude.
Knowing in this moving, mesmerizing sea
it will become one dance,
One weaving of souls in eternal prophecy,
One touchable wrenching of relations
that are and were and are yet to be.
And life is beautiful.




La La Land: The Artist’s Struggle


La La Land—last week spur of the moment with a couple friends I saw Hollywood’s newest musical film starring Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone. We laughed and then cried. From a filmmaker’s standpoint, La La Land sports phenomenal art direction, acting, color, costume, and choreography design in my opinion. It’s 90% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and 8.9/10 on IMDb seems to agree. Continue reading “La La Land: The Artist’s Struggle”


Tonight is the night we pass through a portal:

A moment upon which every age has lingered,

A threshold which no one has yet crossed.

We are

Living flames issuing from the Cave of Bethlehem,

Glinting across a dark, dark world;

Breathing the prophecy of a new Dawn.

Light enough to guide wandering feet to the Child;

Warm enough to melt frozen souls.

That the trickle of fresh water

May quench the thirst of Jesse’s root,

Springing anew from once weary earth,

Soon stained by the wounds of redemption,

Yet ever untouched by the frost of waiting.

Such a threshold in which the Fire of Love hovers,

This threshold upon which we stand.


May you have a blessed Christmas season and a happy New Year!

Advent Mysteries


My airplane touched down in Milwaukee for Christmas break during a gorgeous and dangerous snowstorm. I spent the last twenty minutes of the flight staring breathlessly out the window as crystals of snow streaked off the plane wings and glittered in the white lights. I was praying the Rosary, but every so often the wintery sight distracted me. For some reason the snowflakes stretching in icy veins off from the wings reminded me of Hans Christian Anderson’s tale of the Snow Queen. Then inexplicably wandering as minds often do, a new thought popped into my head: Advent is such a strange time for college students. Continue reading “Advent Mysteries”

Blessed Darkness


“If it weren’t for the darkness, we wouldn’t see the stars.”

This is one of a collection of random quotes I sticky-noted to my work computer. This past week, it suddenly dawned on me while wrestling with wanting to know everything (meaning particularly The Future, particularly my control over The Future) that maybe that very wanting is why I have to be kept in the dark. Maybe it is so that I learn I don’t need to know everything, and yet it still works out.

Perhaps also though the darkness is a gift. Continue reading “Blessed Darkness”