Whose Story is it Anyway?
Every book, every story that ever insisted on being written holds meaning for someone. Maybe even many someones! The first step after writing the story the best it can be, is to send it out into the world so that those someones can find it. Many authors have mentioned this phenomenon, this relentless voice in their head that turns into a story that clearly demands to be told.
Having Faith
Home isnât always a Christmas card scene: the perfect family gathered in front of a blazing hearth, smiles oozing love. Home is that place within yourself, that core deep inside. Home is that voice that says youâre okay, no matter where you are or who awaits your return. Those you love and those who love you are the foundation, the walls, and the roof. Everything else is up to you.
About Ozzie
The oddest thing happened last night. I picked up my iPhone and on the screen was a photo of Ozzie, my funny-looking and beloved Jack Russell Terrior. When I closed my screen and reopened, there he was again, evidently set as my background photo, which I did not remember doing. Seems like I would.
This and That
Here’s what I believe. We live our lives within our own perspectives. And our perspectives are based on what we feel is best for us. And if you believe Darwin and his theories, at least the overview, it all goes back to natural selection and species survival.
Book Publishing 101
This is pretty much a self-serving postđ. If you feel magnanimous, read on and share a part of my life right now.
His Mama Would Have Been So Proud
Motherâs Day. The day we honor and give thanks to our mothers for the ultimate gift of life. They cared for us when we were young and helpless, and taught us to mind our Ps and Qs until we wised up enough to have our own children and do the same for them. The cycle…
Nocturnal Wanderings
2:41 am. And Iâve already been up twice to pee and pace. Lately I find myself waking up sometime in the wee hours of the morning and wandering through my dark home like a ghost. Each room, with its particular vibe, seems to whisper, reminding me of the life in this happy home for the…
Einen Guten Rutsch
In Germany they donât just say Happy New Year; they say Einen Guten Rutsch ins neue jahr, wishing you a good slide into the new year. Ease and fluidity. Possibilities. A chance to look at oneâs life and make changes. Maybe a condensed version of a do-over, a new start, or a leaving behind of…
Our Lives
I never thought of myself as overly nostalgic but now I think I am. Every afternoon I wander upstairs and sit my butt on the carpet to ferret out more memories. Itâs telling that the bin sat in our office for the last three years without me digging into it until a few weeks ago.
Chasing the Shade
This thoughtful photo of Georgia OâKeefe in her advanced age, with this heading, could well be me. And, yes, I have been waiting to be myself again. Not just for the summer, but I can only hope that as heat and humidity scuttle away, some of me will come back with the freshness of our…
Holding It Together
Anni’s kind and loving email made me think about the bonds we have with the people in our lives, how they are formed and how they affect us both consciously and subconsciously.
Legacy
When my aunt opened up about her past, she told me emphatically âI want the truth to be known.â This will be part of her legacy. Sadly, my father passed away on March 5th. The book is also a legacy to him.
From Joy to Sorrow
My last Rumination dealt with time passing. Nostalgia. And regrettable, yet inevitable, lost connections. I didnât know what was coming next. We never do, do we?
Chronometry Redux
The new year was gliding along, mostly smooth with a hint of ripples. And then a tsunami blew in as a reminder that we are not in control.
A Study in Contrasts
I have often sat and wondered how much of our humanity we will lose in order to live/survive within our rapidly advancing technological world.
A German Christmas Memory
I waited impatiently for the big night and watched the snow clouds pile high in the frigid sky, alternating between wishing for the beauty of snowfall and a clear night to accommodate us on our quest for the perfect tree.
Tick Tock
Time had little meaning; only the essence of the moment seemed important. But all wonderful things come to an end, or they would lose much of their lovelinessâitâs the contrast that is delicious.
DöstÀdning, the gentle art of Swedish Death Cleaning
DöstĂ€dning is the âgentle art of Swedish death cleaningâ as defined by Margareta Magnussen in her book titled the same.
On Writing for Eternity
I believe we write because words are eternal. Our written thoughts offer a type of validation of a life.
Fearless
The next time you feel a strong aversion, or a gut punch at the thought of dealing with something, check in with fear. Give it a precise definition and slide it into the background.
