Not (quite) what I had in mind

You know, when I set out to write about what it’s like to be in my 50s just a few short months ago, I was envisioning something like this — adventure, culture, more adventure, more culture. Trips to chronicle. Events to dissect for their deeper meaning. I...

Advanced humility

The word ‘humble’ keeps coming up in my Morning Pages. Sometimes it feels virtuous. Other times it pisses me off because I feel it’s born of having events forced upon me that show me I’m not in control. As in, I am so humbled by my knee injury...

Bubbles and clouds

Kevin has been gone for more than a month and I’m still not ready to use past tense. I know what will happen. A month, two months, three and before I know it … a year. Maybe then I can say, “He loved to talk about spirituality.” But right now,...

A poetic awakening

Back in my college days when I was discovering non-traditional viewpoints on so many levels, I was transfixed by a poem by Marge Piercy. Up until that point, my exposure to poetry and my love for it had been limited to verse that was melodic or nature-based or...

The illusion of control

I suppose today I needed to be in control of something. And that’s why my closet is suddenly pin straight and I scheduled arthroscopic surgery for my knee on April 18. Because God knows I’m not in control over the big stuff. You know, death. My Aunt Laura...

Basking in the gray

Walk the Line is one of those movies I can’t go past when channel surfing. Not really a fan of Johnny Cash’s music, I figure it’s because the relationship –really, courtship — between Cash and June Carter was a non-linear, non-traditional...