Being a musician, I have spent most of my time with men, for most of my life. There are numerous reasons for that, but most of them are not relevant to the points I want to make. That may be fodder for another post. For most of my life, most of the people who happened […]
Did you have a good Thanksgiving? I had Friendsgiving here, which was just fantastic. No pressure, no pain, no stress, no guilt . . . No weight gain, either, because I feasted with other health nuts, and we ate in moderation. I feel warm, but not puffy. Full of peace, but not bloated. Satisfied, and
I live in a town that is, frankly, dominated by a university teaching hospital. This place doesn’t just have branches, not just satellites, it has tentacles. They have an urgent care center in the damn grocery store. It’s becoming like our own special version of Waffle House; somebody stands in the parking lot of a
I avoid talking about politics, not because I am afraid of the fight, but because honestly, I would rather expend my energies taking care of myself and the people around me so that we can all be our best selves in the face of the chaos and dangers that are, sadly, a reality of this
On the first day of Samhain, my true love gave to me, a bite of immortality . . . On the second day of Samhain, my true love gave to me, two caramel apples and a bite of immortality . . . Samhain, aka Halloween Old School, is a High Holy Day, a cross-quarter day,
This song is true. The first two verses are about people I knew who recently took their own lives. The third verse is what I hope will become more and more true. Eckhart Tolle’s remarkable book, “The Power of Now,” recommends becoming an observer of our thoughts. Feeling something difficult? Take a step back and
It’s time, and it’s about time. It’s always all about time. Time is one of the oceans we live in. Sound is the other. Both are, apparently, as close to infinite as it gets. You just can’t run out of sound. You can run out of things to say, but you’re still making noise. Breathing,
I was in a car accident when I was four. No, I wasn’t driving. My mom was driving. I was in the back seat, rattling around like a marble in a shoe box, because there were no seat belts in back seats at that time–there weren’t even many seat belts in front seats in 1968.
I have a former step-nephew-in-law (gotta love these blended/extended families) who probably died this week, a victim of Hurricane Irma. His family was being evacuated, but he refused to go. He believed that the government had ordered him to defuse a bomb, so he fought evacuation assistance and ran. The family was given a choice:
I haven’t been camera-shy my whole life; I have been camera-phobic. Terrified of having my picture taken, not because I was afraid I’d lose a piece of my soul. I just didn’t want to see how I looked. Like many women, I am my own worst critic. Used to be when people said they thought
