I saw a video in the early hours of this day – around the time of the blood moon eclipse – of a dog who had fallen in love with a small pumpkin at the pumpkin patch. He carried that little pumpkin around – cuddled with it, nurtured it, slept with it. It was his “emotional-support pumpkin”. Today is the midterm elections. There is quite a lot of energy associated with today. Mostly I have been laying low. Preparing for the apocalypse. Ha. Today is also the anniversary of the death of my father. A few weeks’ ago R and I had…
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(This is also the transcript for the podcast Breathing Out Stars — Episode 31) There is a moon in the evening sky. Around it – many clouds. A storm has just passed. It is stunning. It is, in fact, the reflection of the moon on the clouds that makes it look thus. It was quite a storm. It was a few days before my first surgery that I happened to read that you don’t get the transformation unless you go into the Underworld. But we will talk more about that later. I beg your indulgence as I share this story.…
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Challenges create opportunities for action. We are in a time now where there are opportunities for you to find faith – to reach for something greater than yourself.
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(Episode 27, Breathing Out Stars Podcast) Before I begin I want to say a thing about carrying on. It is said that at the top of every mountain is the base of the next mountain. This is a super important lesson for us to get – that when we finish something, accomplish something, we are not done…it is just time to start the next thing. When I reached 25 episodes it was a lovely benchmark. A milestone. Not an easy thing in a difficult time. But rather than resting on my laurels I sat down immediately and began episode 26.…
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There once was a five-year old boy. It was summertime — and of course — there were fireflies. Many, many fireflies. This child, with his mommy and his daddy, spent one summer evening chasing those fireflies…and catching them…and putting them each, one by one, into a tall jar. Now…there is this jar….like a lantern….filled with maybe twenty or so fireflies. This classic childhood adventure was then followed by a bath — and bed — and the lantern of fireflies was put on his dresser. There was then a story, a kiss and the door was closed. It was perhaps thirty…
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Months ago, before my surgery, we had dinner at an Asian restaurant with a Chinese friend, M. She ordered us a dish — a dish, she said, that she makes at home. “I can always tell how good a restaurant is by the quality of this dish”, she said. When the dish arrived it was white and opaque and long and lovely and sour and spicy. It was shredded potato. From that day on I have craved this dish. Two weeks passed and before I was admitted to the hospital I had to have this dish again. I went back,…
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The San Remo 2018 Music Festival has chosen its winner! Italian artists Ermal Meta & Fabrizio Moro won with their song “Non mi avete fatto niente”…(“you did nothing to me”). Although R and I also loved Annalisa’s “Il mondo prima di te”, this Meta & Moro piece was stunning, was moving and, as the winner…a well-deserving piece and, in my humble opinion, a great one for the world stage…possibly as an entry in Eurovision 2018…but I am unsure if it automatically gets entered in the larger contest. This song, “Non mi avete fatto niente”, is a song of hope.…
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I am sweating. I am gripped with fear. I am at the post office. This errand, in particular, I have been avoiding for weeks. Yes, we ordered some sneakers for R from amazon.it (don’t judge…it has been a lifesaver) and no, they didn’t work out. So yes, with my prepaid packing label taped to my package (yes, I had to do a lot of research just to find tape), I mapped out the way to the closest Poste Italiane and walked there. When I arrived, rehearsing in my head, over and over “devo restituire questi pacchetti” (I have to return…
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Avevo paura…ho avuto paura…avevo avuto paura. Prima, avevo paura delle molte cose. I have been afraid…I was afraid…I had been afraid. But now — now I am brave. The first thing that I was afraid of, when I arrived, was the shower. You know, the shower. As in — a way for me to become clean again after walking miles and miles through the city. Or after sleeping. Or after cooking with garlic. The shower is very, very narrow (la doccia è molto stretta — quasi troppo…). It is probably only about twenty-two inches square…and the shower entry is…
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Being Human - Blessings - Darkness - Difficulty - Family - Fear - Hope - Light - Loss - Safety - This really happened.
The Fire and the Roses
Eleven years ago we were getting ready to leave the house for the first seder at Jane’s house. Russ was just finishing the mowing of the lawn, our table was set with china and crystal for the next evening at our house. I heard a crackling sound coming from the kitchen. I knew that I wasn’t cooking that evening…so as I entered the kitchen I saw about a foot of smoke undulating at the ceiling above the door to the garage. I went outside and found the wall between the house and the garage aflame. Quick-thinker that I am, I…
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It was just one of those beautiful mornings in early June in the way, way North…the kind of day which starts out bright at 5 – and just gets brighter. It was yesterday. They had hired a Guide, Ben and Rob did. He was “Big Jim”. Someone to teach them fly-fishing in the Canadian Rockies. So there they were, in hip waders, in streams. Just a flick of the wrist, it is said. There is a rhythm to it – flick forward and back. And back again. The sparkling sun on the water. Standing, standing. Standing for a bit longer. Nothing…
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She gave me permission to write this. We were all sitting on the couch watching the end of the basketball game. She, and the young one, and I. She looked at the vase of flowers and said, as Northwestern was losing the game, “Hey, those need more water”. She started to get off the couch, said she was dizzy, her legs collapsed under her. I caught her. I’ll get more water for the flowers, I said. Something didn’t feel right. I re-watered the flowers, hurried to the cabinet in search of a blood pressure cuff. It was over 180. Way…
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Being Human - Blessings - Childhood - Darkness - Difficulty - Family - Fear - Hope - Light - Loss - Uncategorized
Watch me reading The Hospital Bed.
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The first time I saw Cirque du Soleil was in Los Angeles, 1987. When the first notes of the clarinet began and the lights came up, the performers were wearing masks of lovely ancient people with innocent faces, reddened noses, jowls, double chins and glasses. They had exaggerated bellies and bottoms–and waddled about doing what ordinary people do: riding their broken shaky bicycles, struggling under sacks of potatoes; collecting milk and bread . . .and breath. They were modest, sad, hardworking and beautiful. Awkward, ugly, shattered by life and yet still walking forward. I was so moved by their broken…
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To write this, I wrote it five times — and then a sixth. It was still a mess. I printed it out and with my green pen. I scratched out everything. Well, almost everything — so I could start again. I haven’t been able to think straight – too much on my mind. I needed a little something. Then I woke this morning thinking of garlic. If you use a little garlic it is amazing. It adds that special something to everything you eat. It is almost magical the way it transforms a dish. For some, garlic is their favorite…