A decade ago, when I was in my son’s room folding laundry, he told me about an experience he was having on a school sport’s team. The exact details don’t matter – all kids deal with some sort of challenge in the middle school years. But if I had to name this one it … Continue reading It’s Just Material: Writing as a Coping Strategy
I sat at the kitchen table watching the Google map icon move along Route 80 West. It was my first time using the location sharing feature of Google maps – and it hadn’t even been my idea. My son had suggested it. He had just left, minutes before, on his journey back to college. This … Continue reading Location
I thought serving warm chocolate chip cookies to a group of teenagers would be a welcome offering for a first class on a Saturday afternoon. Especially in winter. “Cookies? Help yourselves,” I said. Silence. No movement toward the center of the round table where I nestled them in a double layer of foil. “Really! Take … Continue reading What Your Teenager’s Brain is Craving (hint: it’s not warm cookies)
Two days after my mom and I culled the disorganized racks of a post-holiday sweater sale, I needed her guidance with a sweater I’d been knitting for Andy, my college age son. It was the afternoon before he needed to go back when I called her for help. “We are really down to the wire,” … Continue reading Sweater Woes
In the same week that I decided to put up bird feeders along the busy road in front of my home, an owl moved into the owl house outside my kitchen window. The house has been there for years. I watched it often in the time period immediately after Dave put it up – naively … Continue reading Owl Watching
My heart was still racing thirty minutes into the swim, my arms and legs flailed, there was no ease or even any discernible rhythm to my body’s movements in the green murky water. I concentrated on just trying to move fast in my failing effort to burn off the energy my nervous system released. I … Continue reading What Made Me Swim Across the Deep Dark Lake
My proclivity for sweets remained with me over time. Chocolate, in particular, served an important role. A piece of it was really the only way my brain knew that the meal was over. Like the credits at the end of the movie, I only seemed to stop eating if I sent the specific ‘sweet’ signal to my brain.
The dog sitter expected me to save the chicken. What would she think of me if I didn’t? What would my brother think of me if I did? I went back and forth. I could save the chicken for the dog sitter so she thinks I am a good person OR let the chicken die so my brother doesn’t think I am crazy.
I have probably announced, dozens of times, that I want to practice meditation. I started my official announcing of this goal nearly a decade or more ago. Declarations are my first step toward taking action and I even recommend my wishes on others -- before I do them myself -- in the form of sentences … Continue reading Jumping off the High Dive Again and Again
My high school English teacher, Mrs. Michael, rarely gave compliments or A’s. She was renowned throughout the school for her high standards and tough grading. I never got above a 'B' until one noteworthy essay my senior year. When I wrote the essay, however, I didn’t think it was noteworthy at all. It seemed … Continue reading Do Not “Like” This