I was given notice this week.
Of my five-year blogging anniversary.
My mind automatically flew backward five years ago, when I lived in the SF Bay area, creating stories for the writing classes I taught, spending hours writing chapters for my novels, and stuffing it all in computer files and sagging file drawers.
And then my nephew arrived. Continue reading
“It’s only after I’ve given the matter some thought that I decide to take the man up on his offer.
A quid pro quo, so to speak – I help him out, and he’ll help me out.
The only problem is that I don’t need any help. Or at least not his kind.
I’m a published writer, so I promise to give him tips on how to find the right publisher for the book he’s writing on “the zen of wellness.” That’s my title for his book, I think his is more esoteric.
Whatever, I’m looking forward to sharing my experiences with this fascinating man. He’s slight, middle-aged, with brown-speckled-with-gray hair pulled into a small ponytail. His crystal light eyes seem to see way beyond my own eyes. He peers further inside.
Which perhaps is why I’m hesitant to let him practice his trade on me: Continue reading
How often do you let go of your emotions?
If you could lighten up a bit, would you let yourself laugh more?
Or cry more?
I used to lose control – emotionally – when I was younger, and thus was embarrassed many times, particularly back when I didn’t have the discipline we “adults” are expected to display.
I cringe when I recall times I’ve “lost it,” so to speak.
Movies are a prime example.
Before I knew myself better, I’d watch movies that destroyed me. I’m reluctant to give an example, but since I’m trying to lose control a bit, here goes… Continue reading
Are you kidding me? Failure is a huge deal. Immediately, some of my worst failures come to mind:
Cartwheels
Breaststroke
A Job in the Big Apple
Vaginal Birth
Agent Elimination
I’ll expose these failures to you in hopes that you’ll reciprocate in the comments section below. Continue reading
Whenever I hear the expression “you are the wind beneath my wings,” I think about how my friends have blown me through misgivings, doubts, mistakes, dilemmas, marvels, damnations, mysteries, and discomforts.
The times I laugh the loudest, and cry the hardest, are with my friends.
The wind beneath my wings.
One night this week, a group of six friends took me out to celebrate the publication of my book, The Right Wrong Man. They passed around cards of encouragement and pride, they plied me with chocolate bars to fortify me in my (writing) times of need. They gave me a bag full of ‘writing essentials’ in case the power went out: notebook, candle, pencils, pens, and an eraser that says ‘delete.’
God, I love my friends.
I cherish the faded photos of my first steady friends – friendships cemented during our college years of love found, love lost, tests failed, classes 
passed, maturity endured, parties survived.
And I cherish the photo of us, decades later, still smiling together.
Women are only as strong as their friendships, yes?
Decades after college, still smiling.
A week ago, another friend, “Inda the Bride,” took me out for lunch to celebrate my book, and before I knew what she was doing, two glasses of champagne sparkled on our table. Her friendship goes way back, including an evening 20 years ago when my daughter made glittery nameplates for our dinner table, but the glimmering “L” came off long before dessert. Linda’s been Inda ever since. Oh, and she and her love married in our house; I even pressed the CD button as she came down our stairs, so Pachelbel Canon in D Major would soothe her jittery nerves.
The wind beneath our wings.
Just as I’m writing this, I see an e-mail pop up from a ‘new’ friend. We’ve only known each other for 12 years. A Baby Friendship. She writes:
MADS helped me survive New England winters, teaching me how to drive in the snow (close your eyes and pray), how to tutor special ed students (stare them in the eyes and love them), and how to laugh when you want to cry.
The wind beneath my wings.
When I began this blog almost two years ago, the second post I wrote was about a long-time friendship – “A Place I Could Easily Call Home” (http://bit.ly/placecallhome), and the first poem I posted explained that “Friendship sooths the rough edge of life.” (http://bit.ly/friendshipoem).
As I scroll down the friendships of my life, the special women who have helped me get through my fears and my devils, helped me celebrate my joys and my loves, I thank them for the wind they’ve provided beneath my wings.
Cheers and love to you, my friends!
