When Crossing the Rubicon in a Paper Boat

It helps, as your hair fans in its waters, before the other shore is visible, to make your heart new oaths–ones you’ll drag from your death if the river demands it.

I know my oaths. One is to this damn beast of mine. I’m going to explode it to the place it needs to be. I’m not giving up. The other is to my short stories. Why haven’t I ever tried to hone for publication? Who cares. It’s happening now.

Failure is the gamble of every little paper boat sailing into its Rubicon. The coin of experience would be nothing without failure.

It matters not the outcome
If what you will gain instead
Is a heart deepened in the knowing
That experience carves the soul
And the very thing that empties you
Shall surely make you whole

~ The Cruxshadows

I have given Delilah a pair of scissors, and my head is on her lap. But my power isn’t in my hair. It’s in my ability to keep going without it.

Climbing the Caucasus Mountains

Waking up in the Caucasus Mountains


About sputnitsa

Born in the US, I grew up in Africa and the West Indies, and returned stateside in my teens. After a decade in international development, democracy work, and inclusivity training for domestic NGOs, I joined Peace Corps, and after a year, experienced my first Russian invasion. I followed that up by volunteering with refugees and youth, and after some vacation time climbing minarets and mountains, I returned to New York City, where today I work on social justice with college students, produce short films, and write.
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