Can I Allow Myself to Make Mistakes?
Trying to book plane tickets to Ireland, I made a very expensive mistake. Could I allow for this or did I need to allow for a happier ending?
Our Parents and Ourselves
Anne Lamott said “Write as if your parents are dead.” In an attempt to save people from your truth, you censor yourself from writing about your pain. This pain has made you you and may have been caused by them. And this mutes your most important story. And now Their Shames have become yours. You…
Now is When We Need Self-Compassion
Now is when we need self-compassion.But what if I told you that self-compassion equaled feeling sorry for yourself. Boom, you’d say no, I’m not allowed to do that. I need to suck it up, do the hard things here, and put on a good face for my family. I’d get it if you told me…
It’s Monday, Be Here Now
Twitchy and his /her mate are helping themselves to the cat food outside on the back porch. I just told Crackers to go enjoy squirrel TV at the window. The heat just kicked on and the heat registers are creaking and squeaking their symphony of protest. No school and I am leisurely writing my post….
Garden Grief
I told my husband this morning that I’m beside myself with frustration and grief from the garden shrub and tree flowering that got screwed up with our early warm spell and freeze this March. There was no umbrella of blossoms on the weeping cherry tree. There are three blooms on the wisteria. And the beautiful…
He Gave Up On Me, So I Did Too
My Dad left our house when I was little. I visited him on designated weekends. He wasn’t particularly cuddly but I was wanted. In fact, he wanted to own me. Until he gave up. And because children believe that how they are treated is what defines their worth, I wasn’t apparently worth it. So I…
Aging Issues or My Issues With Aging
It’s a slow insipid slide down the aging chute. And my body betrays me despite my best efforts to ignore it. I have just a few issues with getting just a bit older. I ‘d like to claim them and then just leave them where they lay here on this page and walk away. Today,…
More Flowers and Sadness
After my April post on traumatic stress had diminished, I began to warm up to Spring and the hope it brings. Eventually I was convinced by May’s visual barrage of green and the loud insistent chorus of birds to accept Spring’s arrival of Hope. We’ve taken strolls and played in new sandbox sand. Powerwashed and…
Buddy Buddy Butthead
At 9am on a mid-October Saturday, my husband had called me at our home in Denton from his cell phone. Neither of us recalls the reason for this call. Before the line went dead, he utters the equivalent of “Freaking cat” and probably more unheard expletives. Our cat Butthead had stowed away in the back…
