Dionisia Hatzis
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A historical “Popcorn Alley” house in Telluride. (Look up the history for some scandalous tales)

2020. HOME.

2020. Home.

2020. A year in which ‘home’ took on a potent meaning beyond our understanding of it in our lifetime.

A year in which home became our EVERYTHING.

A place of safety. A place of protection. A place of security. A place of work. Of belonging. Of socializing. Of Zooming. Of teaching and connecting and watching the news…and counting numbers. So many numbers.

So many numbers in 2020.

And…such a strange year to not have had. A. Home.

A year of one-way tickets and drives.

One-way doors. Because some only swing one way, unlike the swinging doors…

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“You guys broke up? I’m so sorry! What happened?!” is the typical response one hears when they share that they and their significant other are no longer an item. Our society has an obsession with coupledom, and we simply don’t understand how to deal with endings, especially ‘relationships-gone-wrong’.

What if our response was something along the lines of “I support you as you go through this beautiful time of transition.” Because isn’t that exactly what a breakup is? A transition?

After two back-to-back relationships that ran their course (one that ended very sweetly, another one, not so much), I view…

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Your lack of presence is felt.

Exhales breed sighs and hairs raise on necks.

Another week’s passed and we pray for paychecks.

A quagmire of rotting dreams, compost bins of despair and wilted desire.

Do we germinate the seeds or should they burn on the pyre?

The passage of time is writ large on a clock but no one bears witness.

Raise our white flags, we say we’ve learned lessons, yet can’t seem to quit this.

The honey has morphed crystal, oxygen confined in a space.

The sourdough bubbles keep our minds on time’s pace.

The season’s turned over, green…

…And why you should have started sprouting your greens…years ago.

Ok, let me start with — I am in the same boat as you. I have wanted to grow my own micro greens and sprouts for years — but, as is the reason with all things we ‘want’ to do, but never get around to doing — I didn’t have the ‘time’. Now, I’m saying to my past self, “What a load of horse$#*%”! Fast forward to today — when I’m feverishly looking up sprouting jars and lids and kits and seeds — and not only are they all on…

5 ways to maintain normalcy (& sanity) while #SocialDistancing

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Before we begin, can we all agree that the phrase “Social Distancing” is not appropriate? More than ever, we are socially connected and close— rather, the appropriate term here ought to be “Physical Distancing”. But that’s beside the point.

There is no ‘guidebook’ for dealing with a pandemic, and there is certainly no guidebook for holding onto your sanity during one. No one alive has experienced near global collapse due to a rapidly spreading virus, so we are truly venturing into the Great Unknown, which is surely to rattle many a set of nerves.

We may not have control over…

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Corona virus has made NYC a ghost town.

To most, this Manhattan water tower is simply that. A Manhattan water tower.

To me, these days, it is a signal of a new day. It is the first thing I see, part of my new daily ritual when I take my morning ‘walk’ to my temporary home’s patio. In isolation, in solitude, in quarantine — this water tower is a symbol of beauty.

It is only day 3 of isolation, and my heart feels such a deep compassion for those who are imprisoned — imprisoned by the system, by borders, by their own selves.

A highly social and extroverted…

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Thank you, body.

Thank you for healing.

Thank you for breaking down to let me know when you’ve had too much.

Thank you for splitting wide open when you haven’t had enough.

Thank you for your exhaustion, your ecstasy, for your joy and your bliss.

Thank you for always being willing to see the good in others even if they have hurt you.

Thank you for moving along with me and showing me unconditional love.

Thank you for serving as my temple, guiding me through my spiritual journey.

Thank you for your willingness to try, try, try again and never…

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If I could kiss the petals of your lips a million times a day, I would.


Brimming with anticipation. Velvet smooth meets velvet smooth.

Parting each fruit gently to join yours with mine.


Into One.

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