You know when you’re at brunch and the waiter talks of their artisan jam? “It’s made from hand-picked organic cherries in Michigan, this tiny little farm off 96, and we infuse it with fresh mint from our herb wall over there and really, you’re not going to believe it. It’s divine. Trust me. Would you
Fear of mistakes. She gets it from me. Last week, during a reading lesson, we’re working on ‘meat.’ She says each letter’s sound, slowly, surely, and I tell her good job, let’s say them as a word now, let’s read it together. But I might get it wrong, she says. It’s ok, I say. Getting
Last week, I ran into an older woman – 70, maybe 75? – in the ladies room and commented on what beautiful skin she had. It glowed, truly, with just the right amount of weathering that announced to the world, I have been places. I have seen things. These lines contain wisdom; my face is
This is the part of my story I didn’t want to write. It’s the part the filmmaker sometimes leaves on the cutting floor, because the character does something to offend, like cracks her gum or runs over a cat with her car, and you think, “Can I finish this movie? Can I get past this
You know the drill by now, it’s non-goal time. In a month where we’re encouraged to pick apart bits of ourselves – more of this, less of that – sometimes it’s just refreshing to take a step back and see the landscape for what it is. To swim in the grace we’ve been given; leap