I was so sad to leave my mom’s house this Mother’s Day that I picked a fight with my sister right before we left. Or maybe she picked a fight with me, I’m not really sure. Either way, we fought and I’m almost positive I was the one that started it. Continue reading
As you squint against the oppressive rays targeting your exposed, defenseless body from the merciless bulbs above, you can feel tiny drops of sweat gathering at your hairline, and you know what will happen next. The fire will continue to reign down from above, and those little tears will turn into roaring streams as they cascade down your face, slip over the ledge of your chin and plummet down your chest and into your belly button.
You wonder why a sunny day never feels this insufferable. It’s as if each ray is a member of the audience glaring at you, arms crossed, expecting you to do something. You’d give anything to be a guest right now, staring back at you, comfortably and perhaps a bit bored waiting to be entertained. Best of all, you’d be the one in darkness, safe in your shroud looking out into the light.
There’s this poem that I read in college in some class taught by my favorite English teacher. I didn’t know the poet, but apparently she’s pretty famous. I didn’t know she was famous then – just that my teacher was like friends with her or something. Anyway, the poem, it starts off something like this:
This story was recorded at The Corner, a live storytelling event in Lewiston, Maine. On November 13, 2014 I was asked to perform as a featured teller at Gutherie’s Independent Theater. The theme of the night was “Home” and I told a story about the time my mom and her husband slaughtered 4 turkeys on their front lawn.
As my favorite holiday season kicked-off, I settled-in for another hectic week, the kind that has become annoyingly typical this year: too many commitments squeezed into each inflexible 24-hour day, a problematic reliance on my perceived infallibleness and a false assumption that I am capable of successfully executing this absurd agenda.
Looking at my calendar, I observed how completely I had filled each millisecond, ensuring that every step I took marched toward an ultra-specific goal. But as the weekend approached, the same fatigue from all the weeks before began dragging me down, and I was, quite visibly, coming apart at the seams. Continue reading
In the crevices of silent moments…
A haunting: Continue reading
“Love isn’t about finding people who do what you want them to do or act the way you think they should act. Forget “Potential” – it doesn’t exist. It’s just our way of forcing people to be more than they are ready for. The act of Love is about committing to the people you care about because of who they are…right now, today. Then whenever you can, shut up and listen, don’t judge and try to make them laugh as often as possible.”
– The #DevineLife Guide to Love.