Books and films take time—years perhaps—before anything comes of them, if anything comes of them, other than myself and my writing partners arguing over the number of times I have to correct ‘it’s’ to ‘its’ in yet another final version.
My daughter is newly planted in San Francisco, settled into her dorm and doing better than ever. It was an uneasy transition—would she go? Would the last minute be me wrangling her away from her summer bliss, she kicking her very long legs as I pressed her into the loaded truck?
Five years ago, when I was pregnant with my son and a manager of multiple departments, people, and programs (too many), I called my boss and not-calmly, told-not-asked “I don’t want any of them. None! Dump ‘em all! And don’t ask me what to do with them either!” I hear people say to me all […]
Coming into adulthood is no easy feat. Our brains are a morphing, reaching, expanding, crystallizing, uncontrollable mess as we enter adulthood—the somewhat imaginary line of independence. As a parent, I am in awe of my own stamina to bear the weight of anchoring a young person to this planet while they are taking shape. Many days, I am not sure if I am qualified, strong enough, or resilient enough to carry on.
In my decades of immersive experiences, I have learned that there is an important, sacred, often overlooked or even rejected integration period afterwards. It used to feel like “coming down” and I would feel sad to return to daily tasks and deadlines. I would long to stay in that place of liberation and expansion.
But it’s important to close. It’s wise to close.
Over the last several months I have reflected and written a lot about self-care. Part of that is honoring our desires for howwe love friends and romantic partners, and the structures in which those relationships occur. Sometimes it feels like we have to pick from a limited number of colors in a generic box of crayons. What if we mix our own colors? Can we broaden the palette?
Part of my creative process is clearing my headspace so I can focus. I want to make sure I have shown up for my other commitments so my mind feels free to wander and write. But I have to be careful of not waiting for everyone and everything else to be okay before I turn within.
We spend a lot of time waiting in life. Waiting for our name to be called, waiting for the next episode to be released, waiting for the work day to end. Waiting for the kids to outgrow this phase, waiting to be discovered or seen, waiting for someone to become what we know they can be. Can one wait for circumstances to change while also being whole and happy in this moment?
Stretching the vessel with longing I have been wrestling with how to articulate an experience I am having, which I’ll call the “Both / I Don’t Know.” The concept is this: What if something feels painful and beautiful at the same time, and that lingers? Recently I journaled, “I’m sad, but there’s also a sense of […]
What are we passing down and who does it serve?
Someone once shared with me, “The family is the unit by which culture is transferred from one generation to the next.” If that’s true, it takes a lot of power to interrupt patterns and cycles, and just as we transfer love and values, we transfer secrets and dysfunction.
