A few months ago, I turned sixty-six, something I never dreamed would happen. It wasn’t that I thought I’d die early. I just never visualized
Last night in a dream the Professor left me. Initially I was terrified, desperate to hang on, consumed with the desire to return our relationship to the status quo. But just before I awoke I wondered, could separating from a relationship that no longer serves be a good thing? It is. First, my dream’s interpretation is not literal. There’s no separation or divorce planned in my household. My dream was not about us but about me, or rather about two sides of me. One side sees with clarity that all is not as it seems and urges me to step away. The other clings to the way I’ve always done life, fearful of change. Each side struggles for control. The fear of the consequences of change have kept me in the status quo camp. No longer.
Maybe home – where I really belong – is not anywhere I’ve already been. Maybe it’s just a little further on, somewhere over the rainbow. And maybe that’s not wrong.
On the heels of a spectacular neighborhood party on the block last night, I started to think about the qualities that make and have made
I’m dismayed at the silence of some elected officials (some who are right now reading this) on Donald Trump’s authoritarian justification for the overthrowing the
Norman was a good boy whose time came last month. I stumbled across this piece (Norman, My Tie That Binds) this morning. I had pushed