There are millions of stories swirling around us — tales of whoo-hoo! Tales of OMG-you-have-got-to-be-kidding…
All happening. At the same time. In this crazy world. Like feeling dumb-struck grateful for having two opposable thumbs. Or waking up at three o’clock in the morning with another blast of existential angst. The utter joy when a Gen Z cashier with tattoos, piercings and a beautific smile, bags my groceries at Trader Joe’s. That quick jolt of numbing cold when I get another notification on my phone from… well… the bad news bears.
Stories about remembering — that good health is temporary. So is every one. Every thing. Every moment. Tales about holding on…for dear life. Letting go… for dear life. With a sorta-open heart and kinda-unclenched hands. Thank you for sharing your personal bandwidth and precious time with me and may you find yourself in these stories too.
Please leave your comments because this story-telling business goes both ways. I can’t wait to hear from you!
One of my dear friends implores me to go zip-lining in Koloa. “My husband went upside down,” she tells me gleefully. For most people that would NOT be a tempting invitation… But I am intrigued. Craig and I have zip-lined once before on the North Shore of Kaua’i and it…
I am here on the Garden Island of Kauai…to decompress. To put a little distance between me and doing, doing, doing. To sh-sh-sh the crazed hamster turning wheelies in my head. To tear myself from my cell phone long enough to breathe and not get sucked into another wormhole. I’m here to…
First I hear it. Then I see it. Then my life passes before my eyes. In slow motion. It falls with a thud and bounces on the hard floor. I hear wood kaploof and strings buzz like confused bees. It lands face down, my precious Koa ukulele. This is NOT where…
It’s 5:30 P.M., dinnertime on this balmy Monday evening. My husband and I are high on salads these days as I have discovered a cornucopia of succulent green stuff at the local farmers market. All I have to do is empty part of my weekly harvest into the salad spinner…
So who made up the rule that there are ONLY twenty-four hours in a day? Because that isn’t enough time especially if you want to…like…sleep. Too. I’ve been a busy missy and haven’t had a chance to write a blog for a while. But I think about you, my online…
It’s two days before New Years. Late 2015. I am doing a morning Target run, trying to beat the crazy holiday crowds when all of a sudden a shrunken Medusa head drops from the ceiling. Just to my right. Hundreds of itty-bitty black dots are swimming in circles around her…
