The goal is not to repress what the heart is stirred to express (hopes, losses, despairs, longings) but rather to hold it all in love....and then release.
In hindsight I have so many questions for my former self. Why did you, former Sarah, take so long to start writing? Why didn't you start using anti-aging face cream sooner? And why oh why did you sit in that suffering place for so damn long?
Tomorrow will mark a year since I sang a song for my mother, an experience that still gives me goosebumps. Everything about that experience was infused with loving grace. I'm writing another post for tomorrow, but in the meantime I thought I'd share that post from last year.
2016 WENT LOW BUT WE WILL GO HIGH! Yesterday I started a list lessons from the little bastard teacher that was 2016. Numbers #1-10 were posted yesterday.(My spirited child hindered efforts to finish this in one fell swoop.) And now, I present #11 - #20.16, Lessons, gifts, and gratitudes (is that a word?) from 2016: #11. SWEATY… Continue reading A list of 20 things I am grateful for from the hell that was 2016
I have decided to take the high road with 2016. I'm done whining. Here is my attempt to make peace with the worst year ever.* 20.16 lessons and gifts from 2016 [amended: this is only parts 1-10 because my kid is mixing paints and that spells trouble.] A YEAR of this blog! Discovering the show… Continue reading A list of 20.16 gifts from the year 2016. No for real, I’m done bashing 2016. (For the moment.)
The neighbor's pine tree was removed today. It stood several inches away from our property line. But it felt like my tree. The large crew of workers cheered when the tree came crashing down but I stood and cried. Oh I had plans, all internal mind you, to talk to our neighbors about my their tree. They told… Continue reading The Pine Tree (But it’s Not About the Tree)
I started this blog a little more than a year ago and so much has changed in that time. I thought about this earlier this week as I rolled a pie crust, dancing to Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett, belting out old standards that my mom loved. I felt so much joy. This was possibly… Continue reading A year later: broken open but not broken
My mom was 43 years old the day that she listened to the voice. Five years older than I am as I type this. She listened and so she lived. To see graduations, birthdays, weddings, births. To adopt new identities: Mother-in-Law, Great-Aunt, and yes, even Grandmother. When my mother paused in the kitchen that day to listen, perhaps with… Continue reading Choosing to Dance: My Mother’s Breast Cancer Story
Today has been melancholy. Blah. So MONDAY-ish. Maybe it was the return to work after a great day at the beach with dear friends who were visiting from out-of-state. Maybe it was the post-deathversary-grief. (Grief, after all, is the gift that keeps on giving.) Maybe it was that first thing this morning what did I… Continue reading Squirrels, diiiiiings and a cause for celebration!
Remembering my beautiful mom today. I continue to draw sustenance from her love. In the redwood ecosystem, buds for future trees are contained in pods called burls, tough brown knobs that cling to the bark of the mother tree. When the mother tree is logged, blown over, or destroyed by fire –when, in other words,… Continue reading Redwood Ecosystems and Life After Death