Thoughts On Help

Well, Haiti then. I don’t know how to process large moments, grand gestures. Once in Los Angeles, I walked into a roomful of 15ish friends gathered for my surprise birthday party and, after becoming startled and then grateful, I promptly accepted a mimosa and hid in the bathroom to take deep breaths for four, five

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Over & Out

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

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Wait and See

When the season begins to shift in the Midwest, when the leaves begin to float from their branches and collect on the sidewalks in oranges and yellows and rubies, we all take notice. Garage doors fly open; kids play badminton in the driveway. Bikes that have grown dust in the hot summer months whiz by

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When In Ecuador…

1. Turn off your phone. 2. Head straight for Otavalo and book a room at Casa Mojanda. Room 1 is rad because it has a fireplace and is closest to the food. Also, the llama. If you’re coming in around midnight on a Saturday, you might catch an indigenous rave and smile at the baby

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Cold Water & A Road Trip

I write about these things and I think that if the type sets hard enough, if the words are black enough, the sentences ending in period, perhaps I will get it right? I have not yet got it right. A road trip, then. It is Saturday, just the girls, and we have two hours of

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A Secret, A Craft

Earlier this week, to the secret pond. In truth, it is not a secret pond, just a quiet one, and one that had been a secret to us for the first four years we lived nearby. Bee and I discovered it on an errant right turn and have been turning right ever since – on

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Voiceless

It happened like this. I went to bed last week with a voice – albeit a throaty, hoarse one – and I woke without one. I was in Austin, scheduled to keynote a conference with a gaggle of women who I simply couldn’t wait to meet. They were “Me, too” women – the kind that

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A Scarf And A Dinner Party

  I’m notoriously bad at taking pause for celebration. I take pause for necessary things – things like rest and rejuvenation, self-preservation and service – but when it comes to a celebratory pause? I don’t know; I hesitate. There’s just always something to do – another project to complete, another email to send, another lesson to learn,

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