Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Who you are

In my father's case, dementia was an exacerbation of his personality. He couldn't remember things he never did remember, was obsessive but always had been, asked the same questions many times but was always soothed by repetition. I read a NYT article about analysis done on Reagan's speeches to determine when his dementia began. I wonder if behind a fragile layer of social grace we are born demented. I wonder if it's part of our composition instead of something that arrives. Maybe it's incurable because you can't cure who you are.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Not doing

    I've lately been marveling at the things that are resolved by non-action, like the document I was struggling with that got sorted out while I slept.
    If you have been pushing really hard, experiment with not and see what happens.

Don't look

    1,000 times I've heard my yoga teacher say "don't look at what your neighbors are doing".
    Anyway, one of my yoga buddies has made such progress over the past year that I started feeling frustrated at my inability to advance at his pace.
    On Sunday, side by side on shoulder stand, I mentioned we were in a pose considered to be rejuvenating.
    "So?" he asks. "I just turned 26".


Sometimes I walk around in Whole Foods and wonder what I ever did to be dropped into such an abundant, colorful heaven.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A good reminder

The beating of your heart is a good reminder that the most wonderful things you take care of are related more to your existence than your intervention.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Proof that you can handle anything

You've managed the most momentous things - your first kiss, friendship, the creation of relationships, your role in family, conceiving your own voice - with no preparation or training. I'm not saying experience isn't critical. I'm saying your past is proof that you come equipped to handle anything.

Friday, March 20, 2015

What we don't know

My dad is in and out of consciousness and only sometimes knows who we are and my siblings and I are sitting around his bed, whispering, waiting. 
"He did have an incredible life" my sibling is saying. "It's like he lived four lives instead of one".
"That you know of" my dad replies.

Thursday, March 19, 2015


My dad is on his death bed, eyes closed, liver distended. I'm lying next to him, his hand in mine, and I'm not even sure if he can hear me.
"Will you take care of me from wherever you go?" I ask.
He smirks. "I will take care of you and intervene even when you wouldn't want me to". 

He was always overprotective. How silly of me to assume death would change that.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Sound advice

My dad was the king of making bad advice sound like it made good sense. When I got married the first time he was on marriage number three. I was experiencing a bad case of cold feet. 

"Sweetheart." he said. "Just marry him. It's not as if it was forever".

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Alien concept

I frequent a gym brimming with beautiful people. I'm always stunned when I hear gorgeous women looking at their naked reflections complaining about what they see. I'm deeply grateful to my mom for being so comfortable with herself that I never heard her utter such words. 

Thank you mom for making the concept of not liking what I look like so alien to me.

Thursday, March 12, 2015


The boy at the back of the bus is about to dash for the front door. That’s when I hear an ambulance approaching; our driver will hit the breaks. You know what happens next: the boy’s thrown forward and flies, head first, across the length of the bus.

It’s an affliction. We see things before they unfold but are unable to stop them.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Go find them

Have you ever noticed how beautiful someone (friend or lover) looks as you come to love them? 
From this I infer that beauty has little to do with physical attributes.
And that if someone doesn't think you are beautiful you should go find all the people who do.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

I love tea.

I love tea. I love smelling the canisters at the store and choosing something leafy to bring home. I love pouring a steaming stream of water into a cup that fits well in my palm, warming my hands around it and holding it up to breathe in while it seeps.
I then set the cup down and sit at my computer and forget all about the tea in its snug hot cup.
I love tea, but I seldom drink it.

(Photo: Heath Ceramics.)

Monday, March 9, 2015

Unfair curfew

When I was 16 I had a strict, conservative Dad who imposed regular curfews. Mostly I acquiesced but sometimes I'd try out some sass.
Him: I want you home at 11:00 p.m.
Me: But -
Him: Home at 10:30.
Me: Hey! I just -
Him: Be home at 10:00.
Me: (Certain I would floor him) Why? I could have sex during the day too, you know.
Him: (Not even looking up from his book) I'm not concerned with your virginity. I'm concerned with your safety. Home by 9:00.
Sass never was very effective.

Monday, March 2, 2015

No such thing

How often do you go through something frustrating, sad or boring and realize later that it was the key for something perfect later on?
This can only mean one thing: there is no such thing as a waste of time.