Morgan Hale Books

The Gift of Fire

Our world is on fire, standing in collective horror at our deepest darkness exposed. Part of me can't comprehend it. How can this be real?

As I watch the videos and listen to the narratives, some part of me grows numb. It's too much to process.

Another part of me wrestles with something I believe.That fire can be a gift. That darkness can be beautiful.

But if this is what the inferno of extreme darkness looks like, how can any fire be a gift? How can any darkness be beautiful? Or am I deluded? Am I deceived?

I 💖 Swingers

Swingers.

It's a concept that makes some people cringe. Like Amway. Or Katy Perry on Blue Origin.

I guess I favor cringy things.

I'm a lifelong Katy Cat.

I sold Amway products in college.

And I've had some great experiences with swingers.

My Rock Bottom

I couldn’t stop crying.

I don’t remember the day. The month. Even the exact year.

But 13+ years later, I still remember the inside of that bathroom stall.

Are right and wrong in the way?

Is it possible that narratives about right and wrong, good and evil, make it harder to have intellectually honest conversations about what is true about ourselves?

And if that’s true, do we really know each other? Can we? How can we ever truly love each other if we don’t feel completely safe being seen?

Totally seen.

The Kansas sun beat down on my tiny hands. Tiny, busy hands. They added another tower to the castle I crafted in the sandbox behind my parents’ shotgun house. I built castles in that sandbox often. And every time, I prayed I might be swept away from my life. That the castles would become real. And that I could live like a princess in one of them.

Safe.

But reality always came crashing over those dreams.