I miss writing here more than I care to admit. I get hungry sometimes for an existence outside of my treasured community, and get hungry to explore so many other topics, from hospice to breath work to poetry to breathing to presence to transformation to currency to love, and love, and love. I want anonymity. I want attention. I want to know what I want again.
How is it that the whole internet can feel too small, and too intimate, and too close?