Pamela Leavey

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Category: Essays

Reflections: The Bailout Plan

A few weeks ago, I posted a short essay on My Grand Mid-life Crisis Adventure, which ultimately brought me and my daughter, home to live in Massachusetts, although the destination at the time, seven years ago, had been Eastport, Maine. It was the fall of 2008, the economy had tanked and I had been planning our move to Maine weeks before Wall Street had collapsed.

It felt as though there was no choice but to follow through with our move, as my personal economic situation had worsened as did the situation of so many other families living on the edge of poverty.  We took to the road with a sense of humor and deep-down inside a sense of great trepidation. This was our bailout plan, to embark on a cross-country journey and move, that would forever be affectionately known as My Grand Mid-life Crisis Adventure.

The story continues…

The Bailout Plan

There were stacks of packing boxes lined up in a 6’ x 12’ space marked off with red tape in the center of the living floor. I put another heavy 12” cubed box of books on one of the stacks and wondered if I should not try to get rid of more of my books. I swiftly tossed that thought out of the open window of my second floor apartment into the 90-degree heat and mused I would not miss that heat. It was the fall of 2008 and we were preparing for our move from Los Angeles to the Down east area of the northern coast of Maine.

The economy had been slowly sinking for the past few years, and as predicted by many who had seen the economic disaster coming, including myself, the bottom was now falling out. The timing was perfect to move from Los Angeles, where the cost of living was quite high, to coastal Maine where the cost of living was considerably lower. At least that was my frame of thought as I prepared for the 3500-mile trek across country with my 19-year-old daughter, Juliet. (more…)

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Reflections: Trees

When I seek sanctuary from the trials and tribulations of life I spend time in nature. I walk amidst the fields and forests, along the marshes and beaches. I spend time observing nature and becoming one with it. I never cease to marvel at the sights and sounds of nature. I revel in the colors and textures I see before me. I reach out to touch the very palpable flesh of a blade of grass, a pebble or shell on the beach, the bark of a tree. What marvel is the bark of a tree for it is so many colors and textures.

Trees speak to me. They tell me of their struggles surviving in the forest or standing alone in the middle of the field. Trees share their stories with each of us, but we must be open to receive…

 

Ode to Trees is a lovely essay by Herman Hesse and it can be found in his book Wandering: Notes and Sketches: (more…)

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Exercises In Creative Non-Fiction: Let The Woman Scream

I recently finished my 5th semester in a row towards my B.A. in Creative Writing and Digital Age Communication. I’ve written and been published on a variety of topics and subjects over the past decades, but obtaining my B.A. always seemed to allude me.

Now with a few different writing courses under my belt, I am learning to understand my own varied writing styles, techniques, and issues surrounding the ever-present writer’s block. That said, pre-writing practices have become a huge part of my writing process.

This is a piece I wrote a few months ago, for an exercise called “Let The Woman Scream”: (more…)

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Sanctuary

Sanctuary

They were two friends who had known each other for four years and yet they were proverbial strangers. On the final day of summer, they prepared to ride out together on his highly polished black and chrome Harley Davidson towards the verdant coast of Cape Ann, to the port of Gloucester, Massachusetts. There were billowy cumulus clouds in the sky but still, the sun was shining fiercely. Even with the indulgent end of summer wind that bore the perception of fall in its flurries, it was the epitome of the perfect day for riding. She swung her right leg up over the seat, positioned her left foot on the foot peg and slid onto the back of his bike. Once positioned comfortably on the back seat of the rumbling Harley, he instinctively took his cue that she was ready to roll and they roared off in search of some succor for their solitary souls.

As they rode along the winding road to Gloucester, the lush green landscape showed an indication of the ambiance of fall colors to arise as the temperatures shifted with the season. Yes, the day was already holding the promise of fulfillment. Both of them appeared to be drinking in the scenery as though it were a snifter of fine cognac, the taste of which rolled onto their taste buds, washed down their throats and warmed their souls. Over the thunderous roar of the Harley engine, they conversed intermittently of the splendor of the diverse terrain where they dwelt. (more…)

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Comparison Essay: A Life in Two Cities

A Life in Two Cities

In the summer of 2008, I finally decided that I had had enough of living in Los Angeles.  The time had come for me to return to my native New England. However, instead of longing for the banks of the Merrimack River and the sandy beaches of my childhood in Massachusetts, I longed for the lure of the rocky, rugged coast of Maine. When the opportunity arose to move to that rugged Maine coast in Eastport, I was ready to make that leap with my nineteen-year-old daughter.

The irony did not escape me that we would be moving from one coastal corner of America to another. From the southwest to the northeast, or should I say, Down East, as Eastport, Maine is the easternmost city in Maine’s Down East region and the United States. This move from one city to another was not a mere cross-country relocation from one expansive city to another. Oh no, every aspect of Eastport was polar opposite from Los Angeles and I could not have chosen a more perfect place to detox our spirits after living in L.A. for nearly twenty years.   (more…)

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Narrative Essay: The Day I Met John Kerry

The Day I Met John Kerry

On a cloudy and rainy day, I find myself reflecting on my life, searching for an experience that changed who I am in the world. I have had more than a few life-altering experiences in my 56, almost 57 years that have influenced my life in many profound ways. As a woman of many stories to tell, that all seem to intertwine in the narrative of my life, the one that stands in clear alignment when I map them all out, is the day I met John Kerry for the first time, ten years ago this month, September 2003.  For that day ultimately empowered me and changed my life in many ways. (more…)

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