Sometimes I feel so bound by the things I want to say that I end up saying nothing. I don’t know where to begin, or how to lay out the words to create the story picture I want to share. I feel stuck.
So I am learning the value of being willing to not know. It’s about a willingness to begin, and to figure it out along the way (the doing is the finding out). It gets me moving.
Let me try to say it another way. Continue reading “Be willing to not know.”
Lawyers are on my mind and in my heart today. I was in law school when a light-bulb went off for me about praying. I went to a Jesuit university, though I’m not Catholic and wasn’t raised in church. Praying wasn’t part of my regular life. But working as an extern for a Federal District Court judge, I read a lot of motions. I often came upon this phrase: prayer for relief.
And I realized: Oh! To pray means to ask. Continue reading “Prayer for relief.”
I’ve been spending time at the Botanical Garden. It is Spring and so things are blooming. Also, the Botanical Garden reminds me of someone I care about very much. Some years ago, before Parkinson’s, we spent an afternoon walking through the garden and he told me all about the plants.
There are some very fascinating plants there: the aptly-called monkey hand plant, all the feathery and colorful protea from South Africa, and the unusual grass tree from Australia. There is the century plant that blooms once every ten years, and then dies. Continue reading “There’s room for you here.”
We were supposed to meet for dinner, but then I received his text: I have to cancel. I have to wind down the company as our funding got pulled tonight. He is my friend and the company is an extension of his deep belief that there is a better way to do X. He sees this possibility and so for the last four years has poured himself into making it exist in the world.
And now this. A kind of freedom. Continue reading “Taste freedom.”
Almost four years ago I went to a friend’s wedding, wearing a pink dress and white heels that had little flowers on them. I lived in San Francisco and the wedding was in Menlo Park, and I didn’t have a car. I took MUNI to the CalTrain station at Fourth and King, and because I had some extra time I stopped in the Safeway across the street and picked up some sushi to eat on the train ride down.
I was going to the wedding alone, even though I don’t like going to weddings alone. But, I thought, you never know who you’ll meet at a wedding. As it turned out, I met someone who gave me a ride back to the city, and became a boyfriend for the next 2 years. Continue reading “The doing is the finding out.”
This is a game I play. It’s like flexibility training for desire and imagination. It cultivates internal resilience, curiosity, and confidence. It releases anxiety and prevents your inner bully from jumping up and smooshing your ideas. It unleashes the power of curiosity and pleasure, so you can taste pure, open possibility. It’s a little intoxicating.
You need the right friend for this. Here’s how it works: Continue reading “I have the most amazing life.”
Before. The rhythm of my week began with a heavy Monday and marched along beige-grey cubicles to Friday afternoon, before releasing me into the weekend. There were things on the side, like color, laughter, yoga, writing, teaching, and being outdoors. For a while there was also a man, and talk of how things would be in the future. Together.
After. There was learning to be single again. There was my final Continue reading “Notes from the After Life.”
You’re on a journey, and you will forget this. Sometimes you will feel disconnected, left behind, abandoned, lost, or unwanted. None of it is true. I want you to remember that there are more people than you know who are holding you with love in their thoughts and heart.
I’m one of them. Continue reading “I’m rooting for you.”
This was a big year for me, with many transitions. Some I never saw coming, and others I orchestrated with great care. I’m still in an in-between place and being at this cusp of year into year has me feeling wobbly. . . yet also held in love and inspired by each new day.
This year holds my broken heart. In February, the man I felt so certain of abruptly Continue reading “What the year held.”
There is always room for more love songs. Keep loving. Keep writing. Keep singing. Even though love songs have been around for centuries. Even though we’re all singing about the same thing: the hope, sweetness, bliss, and ache of love. It doesn’t matter. We want to hear your version. We want to hear your words, your tune, your voice, your arrangement.
Tell us how it is. We want to know. We can never get enough.