A friend asked me recently if I’m a hugger. We met post-pandemic, are new friends and are still in that stage where these little revelations are significant. “Yes!” I enthused. Followed by a pause. “Well, I think I am.” More pausing. “I suppose I’m a hugger more in theory than in practice now.” The pandemic... Continue Reading →
If I were to run smack into my sixth grade self right now, my first thought would be, "Oh, honey." And then I'd get straight to work helping me be slightly less of a dork. The problem was that I just had no clue. Other kids were a little like aliens to me. I didn't... Continue Reading →
My current life is highly improbable. Maybe that's why I find it so beautiful. It's a bit of a mystery to me how I got here. But, yet, here I am. From the time I was 8 years old, adults constantly nudged and prodded me toward leadership roles. But I was having none of that.... Continue Reading →
A woman who carries a secret is an exhausted woman.Women Who Run with the Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estés I gave up being exhausted in late 2008. For 33 years, I'd been collecting secrets (big and utterly minuscule) and stacking them precariously in various corners of my soul. Which meant I couldn't round a corner without... Continue Reading →
I don't know everything. Hell, I don't know most things. But here's one thing I'm sure of: if you are a white person getting down to the hard, soul-searching work of becoming anti-racist, you're going to need a life raft. Because there's a tidal wave of rage, grief, regret, and full-blown horror headed your way.... Continue Reading →
When we moved to Atlanta, we walked up into a ready-made group of friends we lovingly refer to as The Tacos. When we're all together, there are 21 of us (adults & kids). And, pre-quarantine, every Thursday we'd taco. All together. In a restaurant. (Actually, there may be 23 of us ... this is why... Continue Reading →
Getting sober is HARD. But life on this side of being a drunk is pretty damn miraculous.
Through quick glances in my rearview mirror, I watched my sweet 6-year-old sob on the way home from the grocery store yesterday. I wish it was because I wouldn't buy her something in the checkout line. Or because she'd gotten in trouble AGAIN for her reckless driving of the shopping cart. But it was much more complicated--and painful--than that.
On Tuesday morning, Jane and I barely made it out of the house on time for school. Getting ready in the mornings involves some pretty stellar teamwork—and when I say teamwork, I mean that Jane is responsible for getting her own self dressed & ready to walk out the door. It each girl for herself... Continue Reading →
