Fireweed & Flannel

What It Feels Like To Begin Outgrowing Your Story By Lisa R. Conner Hitting publish was one kind of courage. Waiting in Amazon jail was another. There is something surreal about spending years carrying a book in your body, months writing it, days formatting it, and...

When You Stop Explaining By Lisa R. Conner Sometimes the universe doesn’t send a lesson.It sends a moment. Small.Unexpected.Almost nothing. And then—everything. A detail you can’t unsee.A tone you can’t ignore.A pattern you can’t keep talking yourself out of. This is...

Apparently, It Was Never Just About the Candy By Lisa R. Conner I have a thing. Actually, let’s be honest.I have several versions of the same thing. I leave the protective film on devices and appliances for far too long. Phones.Monitors.Refrigerators. Anything new and...

If you’re the strong one… read this. By Lisa R. Conner A friend texted me a meaningful message this morning. It’s not mine to share. But it sparked. It cracked something open. Later in the day, she sent me a video. She knows me well. She knows my medicine. The message...

A More Human Way of Moving Through Change by Lisa R. Conner After 26 years in real estate, I’ve learned something most people never say out loud: You do not move just for a house. You move because life is changing. Sometimes that change is painful. Grief. Loss....

On Reconstruction, Reinvention, and Beauty Redefined Lisa R. Conner No one prepared me for the long middle. People understand the diagnosis is terrifying. I’d describe it less as terrifying and more like a whopping gut punch. I’ve never personally been punched in the...

There are seasons of life that only make sense in hindsight. At the time, you are simply trying to survive them. You are putting on your clothes, catching your flights, showing up in the room, smiling when appropriate, taking notes, and trying not to fall apart in public…

Before you reach the front door, I want you to know this: I have never been able to look at anything at face value. Everything means something. The path means something. The threshold means something. The mask means something. The rooms we avoid mean something. The stories we inherited, inhabited, and confused…