This is what I tell my students: you never enter a moment where you don’t think you are going to achieve your objective. And you fight with everything you have to do just that. Finally, when everything else fails-you stop fighting. You find a new objective after you experience the realization of loss. This is… Continue reading Up and at it
down the drain
I am thinking about the word "damage". I am thinking about how that conjures up the image of a bombed out building. A package ruined in the mail. A mis-sewn pair of jeans. A limb that no longer functions in the full way a limb should.I think of loss. And I think of fear. I… Continue reading down the drain
I have made a mess of it. I have thrown it away. Hurled it really, right out the window. I have made of a go of it. I sat my heart down and said ‘you may or may not be ready but you are going there.’ And I did it. I went. I have made… Continue reading Lock down
A bitter moment
Away in the tiny corners of your room lives the left over magic of childhood. A space that saw so much of you grow and change is now seeing you again as though it were the first time. Yes, sure, the floors need to be swept and the brown boxes need to be broken down.… Continue reading A bitter moment
A good try.
I was not perfect. In fact, sometimes, I was awful to be around. I was not always right, but I tried desperately to always be kind. I succeeded mostly. I did not always apologize (first or at all) but I did leave the door to my heart open and the threshold welcoming.I was learning. I was working… Continue reading A good try.
My heart; the dishrag and other things about summer’s end:
It is time to say goodbye to the season and pack it away in its beach bag for the next year. Goodbye, goodbye. Mostly, what I want to remember when I look back on this moment is that I was trying really hard. And sometimes hard work doesn’t yield the results to the field of newly… Continue reading My heart; the dishrag and other things about summer’s end:
Today was the first day of my week long workshop at school. Before the halls are filled with students bustling, screaming, singing and running-the building belongs to the seventeen of us. I always feel strange about being in a place that is normally so full to the brim with energy without the hustle and bustle… Continue reading The ghosts
This summer hangs, hazy and lazy as a nap on Sunday in which you awaken dizzy blushing with heat. Not so much sticky as humid. Uncomfortable hours spent finding the coolest spot on the pillow. Hours tick by painfully slow without an end in sight. Change comes slowly, so slowly this summer. Do remember a time… Continue reading A fluttering