Rebelle Society

The Transformation Of Amy Lunaro: Chapter Twenty Four. {fiction}

She could see the yellow yolk of the full moon bleeding over the water outside. She couldn’t wait to run down the beach again. If she closed her eyes, she could feel her feet sinking into the sand and the cool rush of salty air on her skin. She rubbed at her thin legs under her long white nightgown.

poetry

Three Axles Or More. {poetry}

Yet, she steadies, ears on and always steady, a tenacious mistress, we awake in South Bend, all units secure a frantic heave from our bellies, US-31 to the end and finally the beginning assignment complete, our golden calf, away from her I step. Alone.

wisdom

The Beauty in Brutal Breakdowns.

As a hospice nurse, I have the rare privilege of sharing in the exquisite and brutal breakdown that is death and the dying process.

yoga

Being A Body On A Floor Flirting With Death.

Savasana is where appropriate reasons to be on the floor meet the gut-wrenching ones. It’s such a skillful, shocking, relevant, underestimated Yoga pose, don’t you think? The most regulated way of being a body on a floor flirting with death.

wisdom

I Will Not Fear Failure, And Choose To Achieve Greatness.

I noticed the mental chatter about how fickle I am, and decided rather than to judge so sternly, to inquire, openly, about how my feelings change, what makes those changes happen, how what feels good shifts so often for me. I came to the conclusion that like all sentient beings, I am drawn to ...

you & me

The Coloring Book Called Life.

Some cards you look at, think how pretty, how nice, or how funny, and toss. Other cards are keepers. You put them away in a special place and, when you need a quick boost of emotional B12, shake them out and gulp them down. Every now and then, a card arrives that is like a shell on the beach, a ...

art

Strip Down and Free Your Crazy.

My crazy woman asks for no permission and waits for no one. She feels, she acts, she loves, she fights, she senses without reason or logic but with the cells of her body and the clamor of her soul. And she creates.

Learning How To Accept Love As Real Women.

By Jes Fyall

art

My Truth Expressed Is Beautiful — Because It is.

Don’t let anyone take apart your thoughts, dissecting you like a first-year medical student’s cadaver. Your thoughts, your perceptions, are a mosaic of your life steps and their resulting feelings. Your thoughts are not unlike a painting one may stop in front of for minutes, even hours, in a ...

archives, fiction

Finding Magic in the Most Unexpected Places.

By Carolyn Stubbs

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