The things we try to carry on our own

The things we try to carry on our own

I had a dream last night in which a woman I didn’t know was collapsing in grief on the sidewalk in front of a brightly lit theater marquee.  As I went to lift her up, she said, “You always know what to do.” I said to her, “Let me hold some of...

Learning How to be Wrong

Some years ago, I heard a story about three-year-old Nolan running into his house to retrieve another ball.  He had to get another ball because Kurt, who was 47, “made a really BIG mistake,” having tossed the ball into the neighbor’s fenced yard,...
Never Apologize for Chocolate Mousse

Never Apologize for Chocolate Mousse

Trust that your generous gestures are enough. I have a lovely friend who gifted me some “surplus” homemade chocolate mousse (surplus? Not in my house). As she handed it to me, she apologized for a bit of visible whipped cream that “wasn’t...
I’m Over It. Not.

I’m Over It. Not.

It took me many years, lost friendships and missed opportunities to understand: anytime I even think the words “I’m over it,” I am telling myself a story. It’s a story of invincibility from the most bullet-proof version of myself I can conjure up. It’s a story about...