I was a hyper child. I spent a lot of time in my early teens creating a list of synonyms for hyper.
Effervescent. Enthusiastic. Gregarious. Energetic.
I was, and still am, quite enthusiastic.
There is a little corner in Los Angeles where radical hospitality lives. I took advantage of this space after a near-desperate call to my sister-in-law to see if the small place in her backyard was open and available. Within minutes she replied, “Yes, of course!!!”
That much of her life and work is guided by these two words, radical hospitality, made the asking even easier.
Tucked under an enormous oak tree, this once-dilapidated garage offers calm to a tumultuous spirit.
It is no small thing, this dear friendship with my sister-in-law, my husband’s stepsister, a world-renowned artist. We eyed each other suspiciously when I first came on the scene. Me a prim, Christian suburbanite eager to fit in and be liked. …
“Depression takes all my vibrant colors and bashes them together until I am gray, gray, gray…Perhaps this is why so many depressed people become artists, to reclaim the power of answering the question: What is the point? We are clawing at the ground with pen and paper while drowning in quicksand.” Glennon Doyle, Untamed.
“What’s the point?” That’s my prevailing thought on this bright sunny day in Southern California. I want the sky to match what I feel inside. Instead, I wrestle with the profound incongruity between what is external and what is internal.
The sun is mocking me.
I fear writing that question, What’s the point? It is something I ask more often than I want to admit because there is often an accompanying flood of insufficient answers that come back at me. The point…
In light of recent events illustrating our deep divisions in many categories, I considered tabling this writing. But just as I am certain there are historical and present-day issues requiring sophisticated reflection, I am equally certain that there are threads of togetherness that can be still be woven into a tapestry to connect us in the midst of our differences.
There are five words I want you to consider adding to the interactions you have with people in the new year. They are powerful and have the potential to offer a transforming paradigm for connection.
We’re All in This Together.
Arguing for this concept is not an empty, vapid band-aid to cover critical issues that require painful examination. …
Recently, I was checking my email and saw a message with exciting personal news. I yelled out with enthusiasm. My youngest, who has Down Syndrome, jumped up from his seat at the computer with screams of his own. He didn’t know what we were celebrating. But if there is celebrating in our house, he is in!
It isn’t just celebrating.
It’s extra celebrating.
Having a birthday? He is right there to light the candles and sing. At 5 am.
Christmas morning? I can hear his breathless enthusiasm as he punctuates every other word with, “I’m so excited” while trying to extricate his brother from his bed. …
Writing on this platform has rapidly become one of my favorite things. I enjoy expressing my voice and sharing it with an audience bigger than my mom and dad (who are great fans, don’t get me wrong) For the first few weeks, it was an unadulterated joy, crafting stories and learning new ways of publishing them. My friends remarked about my energy and enthusiasm.
But I was waiting, waiting for “Not Enough” to infiltrate this love.
And “Not Enough” has arrived.
I received a Nespresso machine for my birthday this weekend and I think it has changed my life forever.
This is not a plug for the company, although the pods aren’t cheap, so Nespresso, if you’re reading…
I haven’t been this productive in a long time. I mean, after cleaning out the fridge, making a three-course breakfast for my son, organizing my closet, editing another piece on Medium all before showering, I think drinking four Nespresso pods is my new formula for success.
I zipped through my shower, never having shaved my legs faster, and leapt from the water to ensure I recorded all these nuggets of caffeine-fueled insight. …
It started simply. I needed a summer job in college and the owner of a farmer’s market stand needed help. It never dawned on me that I would navigate the biggest ethical dilemma of my life at twenty-one.
I find myself with a little extra space and quiet today. Space and quiet that I long for when I don’t have it. But, I often fear the space I desperately want because when I have this openness in my time and my mind… the shoulds take over.
I have long used the phrase “don’t should on yourself” borrowed from an unremembered source but so clearly articulating a familiar feeling. What I should be doing.
In adulting, there are many necessary shoulds. I should brush my teeth daily. I should sleep regularly. I should include water in my diet. I should pay the electricity bill to have power. …
My newly turned 13-year-old (gulp) recently returned from surfing one afternoon and began telling me about his experience.
I smile, celebrate his enthusiasm, and google the terms later. Sometimes, in my more centered moments, I feel confident enough to ask what the words mean. I remind myself I am strong enough to withstand the eye-rolling.
You see, I am originally from Virginia, where, from what I hear, people do surf, in Virginia Beach. But they do not surf in the Washington, DC suburbs where I grew up. Although I have now lived in California for over 20 years, I have only ever seen surfers “in the wild,” that is until we started having one live with us. …