I didn’t anticipate a passport stamp to Haiti. But then again, rarely do I anticipate the greatest gifts. Ken, out of left field. Bee, surprise! Even the site you’re reading this on, this glowing rectangle that’s oddly held just enough space for a decade of myself? Wildly unexpected. And now here’s Haiti. I’m going for
Well, here’s what I think about being unplugged. I love it. I love to be unplugged, to wax philosophically over what our nation’s ultra-connectedness is perhaps doing to our children, to our elders, to the society at large, to the shape of our culture forever and ever, Amen. We talk about it often, at dinner
Mom? What rhymes with air conditioner? What about plankton? Piano? — Hey, how’d you sleep? Want coffee? Did you sign the paperwork? — Does plankton rhyme with clankton? Can I stay in my pajamas today? Can I have ketchup? What’s a home study? — Does your mom need the car seat? Are we forgetting anything?
We used to call her the ‘Dance for me’ baby. At two weeks young, she’d look at you with blank eyes and blink, expressionless. Brow furrowed. Eyes glaring. She, the statue. We, the minions. She willed us to entertain her. She lorded over us daily with that steely face and when friends would come to
Living simply does not mean you decant quinoa into glass jars and your medicine cabinet is free of Pepto Bismol. It does not mean you wear the same moccasins daily, or that you have long wavy hair and a flower crown and you frolic in the field by day and when the moon rises, look,
You were wild. You were big and unruly, a giant butterfly in the draperies. You were backyard swinging and hammock reading, leaf collecting and worm searching. You were skinned knees and balance bike riding and Mom, can I wear my helmet to the grocery store? and Well, yeah, I guess so, if you want? You
A year now. For a year now, I’ve been trying a new way of being. It’s a slower life, one that allows a tiny splash of grace to trickle into the moments that are frenzied, like when the dogs are barking and the kitchen timer just went off, and the toddler peed on the rug
Cure is perhaps the wrong word, but I have seen this technique work time and time again, in my own life and in the life of others. It worked when I found myself in Los Angeles, lost in the Sepulveda sea, pulling over and enduring my second panic attack of the week. It worked when
