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: Continue reading
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”: Continue reading
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. Continue reading
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. Continue reading
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. Continue reading
On Sunday, I drove into Boston to hear His Holiness the Dalai Lama speak on the subject of his latest book, Beyond Religion. A performance by Massachusetts’ own James Taylor national treasure, opened the event. The event was well attended with an estimated sold out crowd of 2500.
With everyone in the ballroom standing, as His Holiness stepped onto the stage, the Dalai Lama took his seat on the stage and signaled to the crowd to sit.
“Very strong light,” he said as he put on his customary visor cap that he wears often when speaking on a well lighted stage. He then walked over to Friar Thomas Keating and Brother David Steindl-Rast, the two Catholic priests also on the discussion panel and pulled their Monks’ hoods up to shield their eyes from the strong light as well. His Holiness is well known for his sense of humor which is often directed towards himself, and one finds him chuckling with glee when he steps into the mode of the holy trickster.
Courtesy of Manohar Srikanth
Expressing his joy in the Catholic Priests joining him for the discussion, the Dalai Lama said, “These days I feel I am quite old, but with them… I am young!” Continue reading