Gather the Good

In our family it’s a well-known fact: I like to talk. I can talk with almost anyone—and I do. Once I get past my initial shyness, I start chatting. Before you know it, I’ve fallen effortlessly into yet another long and meandering conversation.  Although I enjoy conversing and getting to know people better, I admit my chattiness could benefit from a little discipline. Practicing mindful speech might be the best way to make that happen. There is incredible power in…

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It began as a pleasant evening at home. But with one act of tenderness it quickly became a cloud nine kind of night. On a recent Saturday, my husband and I were relaxing at home, hanging out with the dog and watching television.   When my phone rang, I realized it was a FaceTime call from my son. “What?!?! Why does it always happen that he decides to FaceTime when I’m looking my worst?” That was my first thought.  …

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I recently read a couple interesting books by Michael Singer, The Untethered Soul and The Surrender Experiment. They’ve given me a lot to think about. One of the things I’ve been pondering is how much I have in common with things like flowers and flags. Really! When flower buds appear, they emerge fresh and tidy. They’re eye-catching and pretty, but some of their appeal centers on the anticipation of what they will soon become. As soon as they’ve opened up,…

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To my beloved— As I reflect on this amazing relationship we share, I find it hard to recall my life before I knew you. With you is where I often long to be. When I’m weary. When I’m seeking inspiration. Or when I just want to be.  When we’re together, I can lose all sense of time. The cares of the world begin to slip away.   You support me, and we settle into our rhythm rocking gently together.  Because of you,…

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I wanted to write stories. “But you’re not a writer,” the voice inside my head was quick to point out. I hoped to share tales of the goodness I’d seen in the troubled kids I once taught. “Don’t you remember what I told you?” my sensible mind whispered. “You are no writer.” I wanted to help spread love in the world. I longed to speak of our shared oneness. I yearned to help people find connections with one another. But…

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There are some holidays I’d like to rein in a bit, and Mothers’ Day is one of them. Like many special dates on the calendar, this one seems to have been commandeered by Hallmark and other retailers. There are ads galore in the weeks leading up to that special Sunday in May. They offer countless options for the perfect gift to honor the “best mom in the world.” Most of us will fall in line and purchase cards and gifts….

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Next week is Teacher Appreciation Week. It’s an opportunity to honor those who dedicate their professional lives to educating children. Throughout the week teachers sometimes receive thank-you notes, edible treats, and small gifts. As a former teacher, I was always thankful for the gifts and the kind gestures. As the mother of two sons, I even participated in bestowing various tokens of appreciation on teachers over the years. Now looking back, it seems most years I was just going through…

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“I am a brick wall! You will never break me!” the strapping man-sized teenager thundered. Day after day he refused to participate in activities with the other students at the detention center. Not even “The Birdie Song” could win him over those first weeks. His attitude was typical of many kids in detention. The barriers they’d erected for their own protection and survival seemed impenetrable.   Some months later this same boy was tried as an adult and convicted of…

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PECHAKUCHA! “What? What was that? Oh, did you sneeze or cough or hack or something?” Nope, I just said “PechaKucha!” It’s a real word, and it’s actually the name of an event I attended recently. PechaKucha (pronounced puh-CHAH’ kuh-CHAH’) is a unique performance where speakers can talk about pretty much anything they want to. They can relay whatever passion or perspective they want to share. There is one catch, however. The program follows a 20-by-20 format, which means each speaker…

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The old beat-up car was barreling up the street toward me. It came to a screeching stop along the sidewalk where I was walking. The passenger door immediately flew open, allowing me a glimpse of the driver, the vehicle’s lone occupant. He was a middle-aged man with disheveled hair and stern, angry eyes. Though this happened years ago, the words he bellowed will be forever embedded in my memory. “Get your ass in this car!” Instantly my adrenaline kicked into…

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