Recent Posts by Rica Lewis

A Few Sage Thoughts From The Birds

It’s the little mysteries that make me scratch my chin, as if chin scratching could potentially stimulate wisdom. I cannot understand small complexities. Such as, why is the fridge constantly bare if I’m always grocery shopping? Why is my wallet always empty if I spend so much time working? Who are these wry leprechauns leaving ...

The Thing About First Steps

Your limbs are dead animals. Your mind is a roaring concert, playing every possible excuse. First steps are hard. But let us remember that getting there is always more difficult than being there. So get there. I recently had a friend ask how to get started doing yoga. This happens a lot, and I expected the ...

Ungraceful Saturdays

It's not very yogic of me. To eat an entire bag of chocolate-covered almonds in one sitting, sporting my dog-hairy sweatpants, that is. But I do it sometimes, on afternoons when I am alone and the thought of doing anything remotely responsible is about as unappealing as dried dog poo in the yard. Gorging is not graceful, ...

This is Beauty

To love my own flesh, the dimpled skin and sinuous, stretch-marked paths… does this exist? There are bodies, smooth and svelte, women with limbs like art. And I have this: five feet plus two inches, breasts that drip and splay, dark knees like onion skins. I have seen shapelier legs, creamy and flawless, whispering beneath ...

Familiarity Can Be Dangerous

I cried when I got a new car. The snow-white paint was a brilliant shade, as if white had been reinvented. The dashboard glowed with new gadgets, a backup camera, a plethora of tiny buttons and icons, an interface exploding with digital technology. I slipped into the driver’s seat, and felt the flesh of the ...

Have We Met?

Today I took the usual route to work, my car laboring through lines of traffic. With my audiobook blasting through my speakers, I listened to an intricate story being narrated. I imagined the scenes and characters: a woman with dusty hair and high cheekbones, the city of Rome with its ancient statues and structures, fountains ...

The Worst Five Words

Pain is a personal thing, sometimes. Try as we might to let others in, there are times when they cannot come and sit in the dark rooms of our souls. Recently, a friend made a statement on social media. Fed up with the phrase, “I know how you feel,” she urged her friends to consider that it is ...

A Simple Truth About Life and Loss

It’s been longer than usual since I’ve posted here. Scattered thoughts have left me with empty pages. But still, I’ve been consuming words. I have been reading one of the most profound books I’ve ever discovered. When Breath Becomes Air is a cruel and candid novel, which is equal parts jarring and poetic. I’ve been ...

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