Four words are better than one.

Four words are better than one. A new twist for a new year.

Let’s face it, resolutions at the new year usually don’t work. They inevitably die by the first of February. This truth lead me in 2012 to adopt a single word on January 1st to be a guide for the following twelve months. The word was to be my theme for the year, chosen based on something I desired in my life. Something I wanted to be more of or better at or achieve.

But similar to a resolution, a single word and all its intentions faded before the calendar ended. I believe in the value of choosing a focus word…

A timeless message.

What does your car really say about you?

Photo by Sudhith Xavier on Unsplash

As I car shopped this week, I thought about a story I wrote sixteen years ago. It’s about a then sixteen-year-old car I was driving at the time and how it reflected who I was, if I were to believe the radio commercials of the time.

Even though the ad campaign is dead, it’s still easy to succumb to brand identity. If I am what I drive, then over the course of my life I’ve been a Cavalier, a Colt, an Explorer, a Patriot, a Mustang, and a variety of alphanumeric entities.

And if it’s true, then I must be…

I purged Mom’s house of chaos and found my inner calm

Photo: Andreas Mann/EyeEm/Getty Images

Buried deep in a box full of stuff located in my mother’s garage, I find a fragile hourglass, filled with shimmery aqua-colored sand. No framework protects its delicate structure. I flip it over and watch the sand form a crumbly pyramid in the bottom globe.

This gets placed in the tub of things I want to keep.

My mom invited me over to clean out her home and garage, so I'm here to climb the mountains of clothes and shoes, topple boxes, and recreate some semblance of order from the current state of chaos.

Little did I know that purging…

An excerpt from Choose Your Scar, Grow From There: A Memoir

I don’t have much time left to live, if you want to call my existence living. Months spent on two waiting lists. Two false alarms. One liver wasn’t viable and I don’t remember the reason for the second rejection. I do remember filling the floor of my side of the car with wadded up tissues during the five hour ride back home.

Frequent visits to the clinic are mandatory to determine rank on the waiting list based on many factors like lab results from blood work. …

Photo by Jeff Kepler on Unsplash

My old drinking buddy still drinks and since I’ve quit, we’ve grown apart. She’s digging herself an early grave. I can see it — now. I was doing the same thing. We’ve talked about it but it’s a touchy subject. And just because I want her to quit isn’t a good enough reason. She has to want it.

I found a site today called Hip Sobriety. The message on their home page alone is powerful. I passed it along to her this morning. She wrote back saying she’s quit overindulging. That’s a start. I celebrate every positive step.

From personal…

Photo by Alejandro Alvarez on Unsplash

Somewhere in my youth I got it in my head that certain things, like home decor, had to match or you had no taste, no class, no style.

At my grandparent’s home, there were oak-paneled walls and a dark, walnut entertainment center. To make matters worse, the living room furniture had wood accents of cherry. My mother’s house was no different.

At my friend’s house, everything coordinated. Rooms had themes and flair. Brass beds, oak everything, antique decor, on purpose. I wanted to move in.

I’ve wrestled with this weirdness most of my life. I go to a bathroom and…

Rebecca Hall

Artist who writes and writer who arts. a.k.a. The Creativ1. Blogs at

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