I share my kitchen with the 100 Men Hall and many times what is on my kitchen counter is not representative of me. Right now, there is an enormous bag of cashews, a super sized bag of Fritos half empty, a box of cocoa dusted chocolate truffles, and a pint of rum. I’ve committed to the health and vitality of my body this year and that means, physical therapy, massage and stretching, beginning to walk…
I was in Shanghai when my sister from another mother, Gloria, took me to see an I Ching Master. We walked up the stairs to the small government apartment and knocked on the door, and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but a very thin, grey haired man, opened to let us in. He led me to small table by a window with two seats. He sat in one and I the other, while…
Before Steve and I married, there were moments that have now become seared in my memory where he said something, I felt something, and yet we went on as if nothing had happened. One of these moments happened right after we had had sex in his bed on the floor, on Mason Street, with the foggy light of the San Francisco summer, and the noise of the trolley clanging its way up the hill. “I…
Today, The Writing Room has a visiting writer facilitating the group. Ellen Ann Fentress, a friend of Ellen Morris Prewitt, our writer in residence. I was thinking about The Writing Room in a conversation with Marta Szabo, whose Authentic Writing workshop was a game changer for me many years ago. I came across one of the first essays I wrote in The Writing Room, which coincidentally was about The Writing Room: What Matters? (Oct 2018)…
Is there something you want to tell me? I am a conflict of speed. My go to is to move fast, think fast, and I feel an inner drive to go faster and faster. My body is telling me to slow down, I’m moving too fast, I need to be kinder to the age of my vessel. My mind is telling me to slow down, I’m thinking too fast, I’m turning and spinning too fast,…
“Thoroughly unprepared, we take the step into the afternoon of life. Worse still, we take this step with the false presupposition that our truths and our ideals will serve us as hitherto. But we cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning, for what was great in the morning will be little at evening and what in the morning was true, at evening will have become a lie.”Carl Gustav Jung…
My dreams are always of flight, but my reality is always to freeze. I’ve been saying to my concerned friends that I am frozen, waiting for the sign of what my action should be, guarding my energy so I know where, when and how to strike. My friend stopped by yesterday in fear flight – she is riding the roller coaster guarding her activities, guarding her speech – she is guarded, guarding and on guard.…
In our ACA meeting tonight, we talked about red flags and the familiar way we all ignore them. And then one person said that a writer had written about all the lovely red flags flying all around. The image cracked me up. I’m trying to find the humor in the moment. I struggle. All the red flags flying all aroundAll the red flags flying all around
Yesterday in a zoom meeting someone mentioned this poem: Whatever happens. Whateverwhat is is is whatI want. Only that. But that.~ Galway Kinnell And then I got in bed, and read, and started falling asleep to words, and then I turned off the light. I pulled the covers up and began settling into a deeper breathing. I welcomed sleep. And then I woke up two hours later. Some of the what is was circling my brain.…
In times when everyone wants a piece of you for their own gain, become more yourself. After a few years hiatus, I’m back to the blog. And while you’re at it – check out my niece, Lexi’s blog too.