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No Ground Beneath My Feet
I wonder how many times letting go is accepting what has already gone. When reading a book, I have been known to pause at the end of a chapter. I like to sit with good writing and let it wash over me....
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One Storm at a Time
These past two weeks have been a bit of a hurricane for me, a storm within a storm but today’s post focuses on Hurricane Irma. She took her time crossing Florida and many parts of the state are...
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Are We Americans?
I write about change, which I do not find easy nor do most. We resist before we act, hoping not to have to change our lives. It always means some kind of loss but the longer we avert our eyes, the...
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The Peace in Thinking Bigger
Who is not looking to live with peace of mind, to rest in the reality of every day, to frustrate the frenzy in favor of calm. No one wants to ride the roller coaster forever. It’s exhausting. My way is...
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Every Time He Shakes His Tail
I was in my late 30s, finishing my Master of Arts thesis, when I finally understood writing as a process. Admittedly, it sounds silly but in 1986, the “how-to” of writing was threatening an academic...
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All Right Will Never Be the Same
My primary care physician and I are having our usual conversation when she says, “If you didn’t do what you are doing, you would not be living on your own. Others would be caring for you.” “Thank you”...
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A Murderer Among Us
A murderer lives in my apartment complex and has for the last eight years. Marie stomped her 82-year-old mother to death, after throwing her down the stairs. Marie then encircled her mother’s body with...
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When Zero Was Not a Number
In the woods outside my window, it seems like nothing will stop this growing of green and the flurry of flashy red cardinals as they prepare their nests with their olive brown mates, who blend...
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Zen Meets a Boojum with Snark
Alan Watts tells a story about translating Zen texts into English and the selecting of those books. He consulted a Zen master who found the translation idea pretty preposterous, particularly the...
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Rest, Part I: The Flood Outside My Door
It was just Sunday noon and the excited voices outside my apartment followed by a sharp rap on each door meant emergency. Out of dread rather than curiosity, I opened my door. Without taking a step...
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