Mindful Nachos

I CANNOT live my life like I eat nachos. They are one of my favorite foods, and I should enjoy EVERY bite. Instead, I’m always looking ahead: “Look over there, that one has the most cheese potential.” I don’t fully chew a bite before plotting my next one.

Further confession: it’s worse when I share nachos. Certainly in “real life” I want others to enjoy the good stuff too. But I’m selfish with this particular tex-mex meal. I want to pay attention to “my favorites” in life, and not be too focused on the “the next” and miss the present. Therefore, I write this corn chip confession...

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Thanksgiving Guts

If I’m honest—really honest—I’m afraid of cooking a turkey. It’s not about the worry of something tasting bad; that’s a whole other article of vulnerability. No, it’s that sack of guts that lives inside the turkey. Some turkeys don’t even have it in a sack. You have to be a pilgrim or pioneer and go in there blindly. I SHUDDER.

Something—no, everything—about this sack of guts grosses me out. I try not to think about it. But something in this “small” moment of fear seems relevant. Let’s dig into these past weeks.

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Frankenstein, Miss America and Troll Doll Walked into Halloween

My brothers costume idea confirmed it: Joshua was a kid genius. He was probably ten and declared, Ill dress up as Frankenstein and you girls can take turns being Igor.According to him, we would have the opportunity to push Frankenstein door-to-door in the wagon. My twin Rachel and I were actually excited about this idea. Some adult must have stepped in...

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Book Cape

Last month, Oprah, Will Smith and Stephen King were all in DC. Our Nation’s Capital powerhoused the National Book Festival and the opening of the National Museum of African American History and Culture: big people and big moments. However, true to Brave Tutu, I’m going to focus on a small striking moment: a kid with a self-made cape. This child ignored stretching lines for famous authors like Katherine Patterson and Salman Rushdie. Instead, he laughed and laughed, chasing his friend as the red power source flowed behind him.

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Dahl's Dreams Trumpet All

This September many celebrated Roald Dahl’s birthday, the famous author would have been 100. I reread his book, The BFG, and knew I needed to share—Brave Tutu style—how Dahl’s words make me look up from my everyday life. Small moments with his small character Sophie took me into memories of family road trips. I remembered my Mom reading us the book and as the Texas terrain slowly passed by, I imagined I had a giant friend that let me ride on his ear as we galloped across entire countries. This possibility felt palpable. My hopeful imagination blurred the lines between dreams and reality. 

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Sugar Cube Search: Un-Cupboard, Uncomfortable

MISSION: Find and eat the sugar cubes! As kids, we spent HOURS playing church hide and seek. To be fair, we felt like finding sugar cubes was a simple extension of the game. Parish halls = coffee. Coffee = sugar. Simple math.

When were really young, sugar cubes were still a thing and our dad was a visiting minister. We had many new territories to explore. 

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Rush Parking

I was running late for work. In accordance with parking-late-law, that meant zero convenient spots. Up in the heights of the garage my green beetle climbed. Around each turn…Oh is that a spot? SMART CARS, you tease! Jumbo SUVs were in the compact car spots. I imagined they were embarrassed, jammed in and refusing eye contact. Ultimately, the Nissans and the Elements kept Forrest Gumping me— “this spot’s taken.”

I should have arrived earlier.  You do this to yourself, Rebekah.My negative voice takes a microphone when I’m already frustrated. I got to the highest point in the parking garage and thought, Great. Outside and its raining. No wonder. I pulled in and grabbed my things. Just as I closed the car door, I looked up!

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Untied Bow

Last weekend, our Dad was rushed into the ICU, not for the first time. Two of my dearest college friends came to support me, also not for the first time.

“Bow, how is Brave Tutu going?” Amanda asked.

“Struggling. It’s hard to pump out positive, uplifting articles when my heart is feeling so low.”

“Bow, I don’t think Brave Tutu has to always be happy…”

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Paint Doors, Gain Passage

Our apartment’s elevator is inoperable. When I moved in, my landlord told me, “It hasn’t worked for over thirty years.” People would stand and wait. To deter hope of the elevator’s function,someone put a giant plant in front of it. Months later, a plywood covering followed. Recently, maintenance painted over the entire operation. Now, only the trained eye can spot the buttons.

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Toy Perspective: Outside of the Box

At Christmas, do you ever wonder how the old toys feel about their replacements? The playroom buzzes on Christmas Eve in Jim Henson’s film, The Christmas Toy (a.k.a. Toy Story of the 80’s).  All the characters are excited about the promise of new additions to their toy tribe, all except Rugby, last year’s star gift.

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WHAP! WHAP! Gratitude!

I want to really go back. I’m hungry to taste our traditional cinnamon roll and Lil’ Smokies sausage breakfast. I’d wash it all down with grainy pulp-filled orange juice. To be true to tradition, Joshua and I would fight over the last wrinkled Smokie, even though I’d be stuffed and the aromatic promise of true stuffing filled the air.

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