Annually I ask for a word for my New Year, usually on New Year's Day. I follow this prompt from Abbey of the Arts: “give me a word” we ask – something to nourish me, challenge me, a word I can wrestle with and grow into. The word which chooses us has the potential to transform … Continue reading My word for New Year 2020
Even though I typically feel some sadness or melancholy around my birthday, that feeling caught me unprepared this morning. After all, it's a clear-blue-sky sunny day after a night of thunderstorms. Everything feels clearer, sharper. More alive. Except me. It's my birthday week. A reminder that I'm aging quickly, that life has gotten harder in … Continue reading Do you ever feel sad around your birthday? I do.
Even if we aren't conscious of these traumaversaries, they have an impact on us. Because—on some level—we remember the pain and connect it with that time of year.
Yeah, I'm a bit superstitious, so I'm hesitant to share my good news about acupuncture. But here goes, jinxes be damned! First, my background with acupuncture. Seven plus years ago I had several rounds of acupuncture during my chemo treatment time periods. I think it helped, but since I didn't have a "normal" baseline, I … Continue reading Acupuncture: I’m afraid to jinx myself, but . . .
Many of you know that each year around January 1st I choose a word for my year. I was inspired by the Abbey of the Arts and the process suggested here. A former student who has made it a practice to choose a word for her year in January asked via Facebook message if I … Continue reading Floating to find a word for my new decade
A year ago I was finishing my week in a rehab hospital after having both my knees replaced. I thought that by now I'd be healed. I was only partially right. I don't have the excruciating pain of a year ago. But I'm also not pain-free. And I'm certainly not walking well - especially when … Continue reading One year after double knee replacement
As I continue the series of blog posts in which I explore my racism, I'm focusing on my high school years. I don't have a lot of actual high school memories that touch on race. The first has to do with riding the bus to school. My guess is that this was during ninth or … Continue reading Considering My Own Racism: My High School Years