Crying into my muesli was familiar territory in the days when hormones were more rampant, usually activated by the loss of some love or a response to the all-encompassing despair that used to dog my footsteps. The loves are gone…
a spirited crone exploring spirituality one word at a time
Crying into my muesli was familiar territory in the days when hormones were more rampant, usually activated by the loss of some love or a response to the all-encompassing despair that used to dog my footsteps. The loves are gone…