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Author Archives: CC
“You either walk inside your story and own it or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness.”– Brené Brown Dearest Wee Beauty, When I told you that I am on a medical leave from work, you understood … Continue reading
My dearest wee bee, As I sit here, writing this love note to you on your eighth birthday, I cannot believe you are eight. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you were, my wee beauty, only seven? (Here I am imagining … Continue reading
Oh, home, let me come home/ Home is wherever I’m with you- Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros (lyrics by Alex Ebert and Jade Castrinos) Dearest Wee Bee, Life often (always) has different timing than we might have planned. Heck, … Continue reading
“The dark is for dreams…” by CC “The dark is for dreams–and morning is for making them come true”- Chris Hadfield, The Darkest Dark *originally I was going to post this on The ROHO Project but it felt like more of a … Continue reading
“If you’re always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be”- Maya Angelou Seven. Wow! It may seem unbelievable, dearest wee bee of mine, but when you were making your way out of my belly … Continue reading
…as someone who has spent a lot of time in the arena, I’d like to focus on one particular piece of Roosevelt’s speech: “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by … Continue reading
Dear Friends, I want you to keep the oceans and water clean for the animals. If the water is dirty or polluted with garbage and extra plastic, it will make the animals sick or they might even die. Here are … Continue reading
You are only free when you realize you belong no place- you belong every place- no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great- Maya Angelou Dearest Wee Bee, When I first read this quote by the … Continue reading
When I was one, I had just begun. When I was two, I was nearly new. When I was three, I was hardly me. When I was four, I was not much more. When I was five, I was just … Continue reading