I call this “The Journal” instead of “The Blog,” because it’s personal.
Come close, dear. I have a secret to share. Your resistance contains wisdom. Multitudes of wisdom. Like a chest filled with golden, glistening treasures. You just need to stop shutting the lid if you want the gems. Now, I know what you’re going to say. But Sonja, you...
The greatest acts of self-love take the form of holding dear the parts of us we would rather not admit exist, much less look at with kind eyes. Yes, falling in love with what we think of as our most shameful, horrific parts is exactly the spell needed to break the hex...
I pray for you every night in the way of the old religion. By which I mean I slip into your bedroom window just after you’ve fallen asleep. I sidle up to your resting form and lay my hand on your arm. You are steady, heavy, almost peaceful (if you can believe that)....
Let’s face it: we need each other. Intimately. So why are you keeping your distance? I have close to 1,000 friends on a popular social media site I rarely visit. In the last year, I have spoken on the phone to perhaps eight of these people. It is this select group,...
I’ll admit it: the first time I was in a room with 900 naked women was a shocking experience. I was shocked because I was in a room of 900 naked women. But that was only a fraction of what peeled my eyes open. As I gazed upon the cornucopia of bodies – different ages,...
I don’t know when the ritual of tea-drinking began, but I’m guessing it was a very long time ago. Maybe it started before we – in the form we now think of ourselves – were born. I imagine the rudimentary form of us watching a flower from a nearby tree fall into a clay...
I know where the divine lives. I have the holy GPS coordinates. I’m in the DMs of that sacred inbox. I’ll share it with you. Follow my hands as they peel off the dress that has hidden this sublime site. Watch my skin prickle as you see the goddess revealing Herself in...
My wish for you is simple: may you never experience pain. Or sadness, or grief, or terror, or the anger that too often masks these emotions. But that is a false wish, the type that I might have made one adolescent evening only to forget it the next day. It is...
(listen to the audio recording) There’s a woman who travels with me everywhere I go. Her name: Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. Aka, “Virgin Mary.” Whenever I go somewhere new, meet someone new, or have to do something I would rather not do, I loop her image etched into...
If you want to know me, as you say that you do, then follow me into the deep, dark wood. Find me resting in the spongy, loamy soil. That place where your feet will practically bounce on the beds of three hundred generations of leaves. You will wonder if you...
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The Bhagavad Gita 2:40