Memory is a funny thing. This time of year, a particular memory always returns to me, and I have no idea why. It’s from December of 1988. I was 21 years old and studying for a semester at West Chester University outside of Philadelphia. My roommate, Nancy, invited me to her house for the weekend....
The other night, I attended an “evening of creation” designed to help us access our “practical spirituality.” One of the presenters, Jonathan, played music for us on a handpan drum. I wasn’t familiar with the instrument, and the sound was ethereal and relaxing. Jonathan was one of those splendid individuals who manage to come across...
I was gushing on about the Enneagram and feng shui the other day to a friend. I’ve spent a great deal of time in the past two to three years learning about both and applying the knowledge and practice of each to my life in some pretty uplifting ways. “It’s funny,” my friend said. “I...
Last week, I wrote about how art saves us. A reader e-mailed to share how listening to music every day kept her company during the isolation of COVID. She’s older and has health issues, so has spent much more time alone these past couple of years than she probably would have otherwise. I asked myself...
I was listening to an interview with brilliant children’s author, Kate DiCamillo, on the On Being Podcast. She told a story of a little boy who was leaning heavily on her while she signed his book. His mother said, “Don’t lean on her, honey.” And the boy answered, “It’s okay, Mom, she knows me.” This...
I was listening to an episode of Poetry Unbound, a podcast hosted by Padraig O Tuama who is definitely a person I’d love to have at my dinner party. He mentioned that in Irish when you talk about emotion, you don’t say, “I am sad.” You say, “sadness is on me.” You don’t become the...
The other night, I was attending a summer festival put organized by friends of mine. I was watching math magician, Petter Kolm, perform card and mind tricks. He asked for a volunteer from the audience who was savvy with his/her cell phone, so, of course, I did not raise my hand. Like any good Gen...
Back-to-school ads brought a childhood memory to mind. In eighth grade, I was disappointed to get a certain English teacher. He had a reputation for being boring and dismissive and not too bright (although I’m sure 8th graders had harsher terms for him). And he proved to be all of those things. But halfway through...
The other day, I was watching a YouTube video of Lynda Barry, painter, writer, cartoonist, playwright, editor and more. She told a story about watching a mother in a restaurant who was busy on her cell phone, while her four-year-old son tried to get her attention. When he couldn’t, he started playing with his food,...
When I was a kid, Christmas Eve was my favorite day of the year. We had our large extended family gathering at my grandmother’s Victorian-style home in Boise. Good food, all my aunts, uncles, and cousins, and that night, Santa would come. I sometimes think he’s part of the reason I have the values I...