We haven’t met yet, in person, but I got your letter.
I came out after work to find your hand-written note on my car. I was a little excited to see it, I admit, all folded up and tucked, so sweetly, under my windshield wiper…
I must be the only woman in the world who can see an IUD insertion as a spiritual experience…
I now see that most of the things I wanted from my relationships are actually things I can do for myself. After my divorce two years ago, I panicked at the idea of setting up my own Wi-fi system, cleaning the gutters, and finding help moving furniture.
The truth is that doing these things, or getting help doing them, has been easy.
While on retreat four years ago, I received a letter from my husband telling me that I was, among other things, a “manipulative bitch.”
My 12-year old daughter has decided to be a professional actress. Seriously. Nimaya has joined a theater academy and dedicates herself to learning lines, connecting with her character, taking direction, being scrupulously on time and collaborating with her actor counterparts. Two months ago she applied to the prestigious and highly competitive Denver School of the Arts (think “Fame”) and is about to audition for her first call-back. She is working harder than I have ever seen her. She is working harder than I have ever seen me work, actually. Continue reading
Earlier today I was painting with some younger kids. This one girl—Fiona—is really bright, and though she’s only six on the outside, underneath she understands things in a really deep way. I was painting my own thing while two younger boys painted a crazy picture beside me with lots of paint swirled together in an amazing abstract firework of colors. Fiona, who had been watching the boys, turned to me and said,
“For them, anything is possible!” Continue reading
Last night I watched a movie about babies growing up in different cultures. It was amazing to see the different worlds these babies grow up in—the differences between Tokyo and Africa, China and San Francisco. For some reason—though it was just in the back of my mind—I always assumed that everyone lived generally the same way; electricity, plastic, jobs, etc. Now it hits me with a shock that in places like africa there are only about five things they and I have in common. Continue reading
I was born in Jamestown Colorado and yet I never knew it. I moved to Bristol Vermont when I was age 1 1/2 and lived there for seven years. That was my home, my treasure, my life. Then we moved. Though my new house was only half an hour away from the bristol one, it was still hard to readjust. I lived in that secluded wooden cabin for three years more. My parents then decided to divorce and live in separate houses. It was hard to leave the woods and pond of the old cabin, but not nearly as hard to understand that my parents were not together anymore. My parents promised my sister and I that their houses would always be in the same town, yet a year passed and my father fell in love with another family and moved to Middlebury. I was upset, even though my sister and I switched houses every week and I still had my school, my friends, and my general world. Continue reading
When a child meets another child around their age, they automatically ask “What grade are you in?” without preliminaries.
I personally find this question demeaning and pointless since when meeting someone new it’s best to learn their interests and personality, and knowing the level of work they are doing will not show this. Also, my school—Alpine Valley— is a Sudbury model and so doesn’t have grades. Continue reading
About three weeks ago, my mom was driving my sister and me to the airport where we were to take a plane to Vermont to visit my dad. The traffic wasn’t bad but it looked like construction ahead so we decided to take the commuter’s lane. It took us straight into downtown Denver in rush-hour traffic, just opposite of the way to get to the airport. There were three foot cement walls on either side of the lane, so we missed any turns that could have righted us. Continue reading
