I waited a year to fix my thumb because I was afraid of surgery. Here's what I learned about the difference between numbing pain and actually healing—and why we need to visit the sad places.
Author: Laura Joy Palma
What the Botanical Gardens Taught Me About Leaving Teaching
Walking among mountain laurels with my adopted South Carolina mom, I discovered I might be a hybrid tea rose—capable of blooming two different ways. Here's what garden wisdom taught me about career courage.
When Faith Moves Mountains: A Family’s Prayer Journey Through Medical Crisis (Repost)
Six years ago, my brother P.J. battled an ulcer that sought to make a widow of his wife and leave my nieces and nephew fatherless. My family battled right back in prayer, and God worked a miracle. Today, a similar circumstance reminds me of this story, where I raised an Ebenezer worth revisiting now.
When Your Body Forces You to Slow Down: Lessons from Hand Surgery
Four hand surgeries in fifteen months taught me that sometimes our bodies know what our minds refuse to accept. Here's what I learned about rest, limits, and listening to what hurts.
Day 30: If Your English Teacher Could Rap – Eminem Meets Heartbreak
I was dreamin' of tomorrow so I sacrificed today... You think there's gold in me, but I'm fractured and weak... In my head, Eminem is rapping these lines about brokenness and second chances.
Day 29: Put them Side by Side – When Your Brain Won’t Stop Thinking
On the phone tonight I successfully carried on multiple conversations... Emily Dickinson had it right, the brain is wider than the sky, high above these telephone lines. An unfinished poem about overthinking everything.
Day 28: The B-Sides – Leftover Love and Cassette Tape Metaphors
Leftover after everything's been said, shared, savored... Just flip the tape over and play the rest of what I never said now that I'm gone. A clever pun on being "besides" and cassette B-sides.
Day 27: Suicide by Sonnet – When Depression Writes in Iambic Pentameter
Oh God, oh Sun, oh servant Christian man, why dare you me, bid me rise when I am blind... A Shakespearean sonnet that let the poem contemplate what I couldn't, written during my first bout with depression.
Day 26: My Mind in a Tanning Bed – Counting Life in Eight Minutes
Count in the seconds, the minutes, they climb... Twenty-five; a quarter of a century, a third of a life, and I am twenty-six. Foomp. Lights out. A stream-of-consciousness countdown crafted in a tanning bed.
Day 25: Palm Open – Sophomore Heartbreak and Empty Hands
Palm open, hanging lonely at my side, empty, longing to entwine with fingers constant and consoling... The images are starting to fade, I can't feel your pulse. A dramatic sophomore's first heartbreak poetry.
Writer's Growth 