"...she always strove to repair the small tears in the fabric of society to make things better, to leave things better than when she found them."
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When I was seven years old, I won an award at Girl Scout camp for fire building. We were, with fire pits all lined up in a row, supposed to build a fire that would catch quickly, (a one-match fire as the cool kids used to say), rise quickly, and burn through a length of rope that was suspended several feet above. Let me repeat — I was seven years old. Some people are naturals at downhill skiing or card games. I seem to have a natural ability in building fires. I found this recently, I don’t know the author:…
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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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While we watched an Italian game show, we packed. So it was extra easy the next morning to take off after breakfast. Of course that was after I spilled a whole bottle of water on the breakfast counter “ho sbagliato!” (oops) Linate is always the super facile airport. It’s like venti minuti – twenty minutes to be there, super easy everything. The plane was fast and we arrived at Napoli. Così pazzo. So nuts there. Thousands of people. Our driver found us. Paola. Come si aspetterebbe— As one might expect there were at least six quasi-incidenti – almost-accidents before we even emerged from the parking lot. We chatted in Italian for the whole more-than-an-hour. She drove…
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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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Episode 23. Blue Grace. It was Grace. It was pure, unadulterated grace. Like the old-fashioned kind. The Gift of the Magi kind of grace…when the young bride cuts her hair to sell — to buy a chain for her new husband’s pocket watch. But he has just sold his watch – to buy sterling combs for her long beautiful hair. It’s the kind of grace in that story — the gift of the magi — but not quite. It is a story of our times. Whatever your ideological leanings I hope you will take a moment to take in this…
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I am not the first to write about a wedding and neither will I be the last. My story is personal. The story of life cycle event in pandemic. The story of entitlement, perhaps. The story of change. This is the story of what we do, sometimes, while we process, process, process our life’s transitions while the world is in flux. Our daughter, Bells, told us from the beginning that everything would be blue. That I would be wearing blue, my husband’s suit was to be blue — that flowers would be blue and my shoes would be blue. Everything…
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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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Will you need help down the stairs, ma’am?, the flight attendant asks. No, I am ok going down, I tell him. After the next helper (so kind, I am overwhelmed) and the taxi we are at our destination. We are greeted with weathered leather chairs, mutton pillows. Panne velvet in gold. Fireplaces and stacked wood. I am familiar with the vibe of the heat-challenged North, even in Summer. I am so tired that I don’t think that I ever can move again. But there is dinner to be had. We decide to eat downstairs. At least there is food. And…
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We had just returned from a week away the night before and had all manner of clean laundry hanging to dry all over the apartment. I didn’t really want to leave early the next morning on another adventure because — truly, I was weary. Plus, it was supposed to be one hundred percent chance of rain — all weekend. I expressed this to R and we agreed to stay home that weekend. Then we discovered we couldn’t cancel the reservations. Sigh. So, I perfunctorily packed. We got up early, caught our taxi to the car rental across town. I argued…
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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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Allora…so…siamo arrivati. We have arrived. Today is Day Numero 6. When we arrived, at first, I was sure, absolutely sure that I was fine. I am fine. I am functioning. I slept (un po’) on the plane…so…fine. We took a MyTaxi from MXP to our apartment in the Navigli (canals) district. We found the apartment. We opened the door. Dark. Reeking of cigarettes. I will have to adjust, I thought. Next I thought: What the devil did we do? (or WTAF if you want me to use my full expression of our language…) We will be…