I am reminded this week that if we have any power at all, it is in this very moment. And as I write that, I realize it sounds like something you’d read on a cocktail napkin at a Tony Robbins seminar. Apologies for that. Mea culpa, but I’m still plunging ahead here. This post was…
They were tiny, in the beginning, as children are. Tiny and innocent and selfish and sharing all in one. They corrected each other’s grammar, helped each other up the climbing wall in the gym, listened patiently and without judgment as yet another fellow tot rambled on about bugs, or space travel or endangered species. They…
I do not normally celebrate the Day of the Dead, a holiday celebrated in Mexico. But this year, the Universe decided to include me. I’ve previously written about the circus I like to call my backyard. I’ve talked about the wild rumpus before. Rest assured that it continues. If there isn’t a pint-sized human running…
I’m venturing into a virtual minefield with this post. Into a veritable hotbed of opinions. The battle lines drawn around this topic will make my last post on women’s rights look positively demure. We’re about to delve into kitschy culture. Coming soon to a television near you is—gasp—the Hallmark Channel’s Christmas movie lineup. I’m not…
I have been too quiet of late. Such weighty issues playing out in my nation’s capital—women’s rights, human rights, the balance of power. And I have been uncharacteristically silent, here, in the place I best use my voice. I have not been true to my bitchy stock. I think many of us are weary of…
My Jewish friends tell me that arguing with God is par for the course. That it should be done early and often. That such wrangling—a good scolding now and then—is good for the soul and for my spiritual relationship. I was raised Roman Catholic. Not only did we not argue with God, we even capitalized…
My hair stylist is a tough man of few words. But he has opened up as he has gotten to know me. Today, he is a chatterbox. I have just introduced him to the enneagram when this tatted up, ponytailed tough guy tells me he is certain he would be some sort of warrior type….
She looked at me and said, “Aren’t you worried that you won’t meet someone special? Now that you’re alone, that you will die without ever feeling like you truly loved?” To my single and divorced readers: Unclench your fist. I did not clock her, tempted as I was. Instead, I gave myself a moment. I…
When my mother died, her daughters had the unenviable task of going through her things. It was something my father would not really have been up to, even though when she was alive he itched to help her purge things around the house. Oh, the irony. Mom kept things more than she threw them away….
We absorb what our parents show us, deep in our cells, unknowingly. Even as we fight, as teens, to be anything but them, their love seeps into our bones—the very marrow–changing us. Some of those changes appear as is, others are stored for future us, tempered in our cells with time. It must be hard…
