Art Imitating Life

January 30th 2026

Do you ever come up for air after reading a page or paragraph of writing and your mouth slowly falls open in amazement?

As if you’ve just discovered a new form of magic.

As if someone said,

“Of course you can breathe underwater, you jus- here lemme show you.”

I’ve been spending my days writing writing writing, reading reading reading, cooking baking cleaning, laughing and smiling over the phone during counseling sessions realizing I may be enjoying them more than my clients do and I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or a great thing.

I walk at the park most days, forcing myself to shut the laptop.

Step away Rebecca step away, let it breathe, go get out in the cold air and come back.

I stand up on foreign legs and tingling feet. One cat is chirping and rubbing against my legs as I open the door to my office. The other is smiling in her sleep curled in front of the fireplace, in the same dream she’s been in since breakfast.

I look at the clock on the oven.

How long have I been writing?

Is it time for dinner already?

Did I change my underwear today?

I walk the same trails at the park, but always in different shapes.

I’ll start out in this direction today so I can face the sun. Then I’ll take that wooded trail back to that loop and make a figure eight on my way down to the lake.

Authors Photo

Crunching rocks then smooth pavement then pine needles and swishing crackling leaves and knobby roots that thump beneath my feet.

I step to the side of whatever texture I’m on so I can type notes into my phone at rapid speed.

The words I was looking for an hour ago just made their way into my mind like a message turning right side up on a magic 8 ball.

THAT’S IT!

Two walkers pass by me and nod.

I barely heard them approach me. I realize I’m wild eyed and grinning hunched over my phone like a mad scientist.

I imagine they’re writing stories in their own mind.

I must be sending racy messages to a secret lover.

Attaching witty hashtags to my latest tiktok video. #getoutside #goddessisgood #vitaminD #natureislife

Or maybe I’m exchanging hot gossip.

…which honestly that last one is often kinda true.

There’s a lot of,

“Remember that time you crapped your pants on the playground in fifth grade and you kicked it behind you like a gumball!? Oh man that was great. Anyhow, are we still on for drinks Friday? I need the full story on that neighbor with the lip liner.”

Sometimes it’s that.

Sometimes it’s me thinking about my husband, his sleepy face and resting his chin on my head while I handed him his coffee this morning when the sky was still dark, and I look down at my phone to see he texted- I love you.

Sometimes I’m continuing what I shut my laptop on an hour before. Writing a quick 2,000 word draft wondering why the joint in my right thumb aches and then I realize,

Oh this is why the joint in my right thumb aches.

Thinking about what I’ll make for dinner and taking notes so I don’t lose the ingredients when my daydreaming throws all other thoughts into the recycling bin.

Some fresh ginger, scallions, Sriracha and extra red pepper flakes…cilantro. I’ll pick up some ground beef. Make bread crumbs from that box of saltine crackers in the pantry…

Most days are simple.

The same paths in different shapes.

You’d think you need more than that to feel magic.

But books are only black ink dabbed into letters squeezed into rectangles and sometimes I think Merlin would shut the cover speechless and go drink his evening chamomile dumbfounded.

I was sat up in bed the other night propped against my pillows with the comforter pulled all the way up under my arms just like I like it, reading something beautiful and thinking,

Shit that’s good.

Shit.

This is torturous.

I have so many stories I try to put into words…but… this must be what stroke victims feel like when they’re trying to convey that they’ve touched the face of God but the nurse thinks they’re asking for help to the toilet.

From downstairs I could hear gunfire and a woman’s voice,

“I need a medic! I need a fucking medic!”

My husband’s laughter. I know he has one cat under his arm and another one draped across his knees. He’s joking with his buddies over the headset about job sites and equipment moves that need to be done tomorrow in-between gaming terminology I’ll never understand.

I like it this way.

Some nights I’ll lay next to him under his father’s orange and yellow afghan reading and sipping tea. He looks over and winks and mouths- I love you. He slips the headset off and tells me how many KDs he has and I put my book down and say,

“Uhhh who’s KATIE…?”

Because I like to be see the way his ears move when he laughs and smiles real big.

Maybe if I just go back to the basics…

I think as I slide down onto my pillows and wiggle my feet,

Maybe if I just listen to what my spirit family is always saying- Just pay attention. Are you paying attention? Pay attention.

It’s ok if I’m not the greatest writer. There’ll always be someone better. Maybe that’s a relief. I can just enjoy sharing stories, that’s enough for me.

I feel my spirit family smile and tuck the blanket around my feet in agreement,

“Honey with soil this rich? You don’t have to be a great gardener.”

Thank you for reading. We love you 💕

Authors Photo