No phone can reach my parents, not even to speak three words. I love you.
It’s confusing to figure people out because we lie, as if chameleons we camouflage our real purpose, and hope we won’t be detected.
I was maybe twelve or thirteen, in the throws of heady adolescence, waiting for prince charming to come swooping in and whisk me off my bicycle to happily ever after.
The body tells a fantastic story, does it not?
The beauty of France is difficult to capture with mere words, as is the beauty of a thirty-five year marriage, and enduring friendships, but I shall give it a go.
Seth Godin says, “technology destroys the perfect and then it enables the impossible.”
Times are tumultuous, use extreme caution.
It is not possible to hide your true self.
“Slow down and watch where you’re going.”
I hate to acknowledge any illness, I have this illusionary belief that my immune system is all powerful and impenetrable.
Christmas is like moving but twice in one month. It involves enormous boxes, pulling things down from the rafters, unpacking, wrestling with memories, and lots of heavy lifting.
I believed in many things when I was young, like you should never eat an apple seed, because obviously a tree would grow in your stomach, or blowing dandelions into the breeze would render your dreams a reality.
I know, I know, I talk too much, but I hope to continue this most sacred of journeys with you.
If you’re into labeling, which I’m not, according to a recent Enneagram test I’m a peacemaker.
Let’s start with the Baby Boomers.
Do you ever feel such deep hunger, as if an internal famine, and for some reason nothing in the cupboard seems to satisfy?