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This is it.

January 15, 2023

A friend pulled me up short the other day.

“This is it,” she said. “Stop planning your death.”

I hadn’t realized how much I talk about dying: where, when, how. All the details.

In some ways, I believed that planning would make it seem less stressful. But what has happened is that I focus so much on the end, I forget I am here now. This poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer says it all:

This is it, I think, as I lie in bed, not wanting to leave the warmth.

This is it, my feet meet the cold wood.

This is it, I water the orchid.

This is it, I boil water, make tea.

I think, I’ll be a better person tomorrow.

This is it, me dreaming of fresh starts.

This is it, defuzzing the sweater.

This is it, paying bills, answering mail, frying eggs, washing pans.

No life but this one.

No fresh start but here.

This is it, the cat sits on my papers.

This is it, the phone doesn’t ring.

This is it, the floors need mopping,

the letter needs written, the class needs planned.

This is it, me wishing I could be more perfect.

This is it, this. This only. Only this.

This is it, this flutter in my chest

when the sun enters the room,

the natural leaning toward the light.

This is it, this silence.

This cold. This warmth.

This longing. This song on my lips.


Filed Under: anxiety, culture, emotions

The Loveliness of it All

October 4, 2022

Photo by Courtney Cook on Unsplash

I was never much of a hugger. Being a New Englander, and earlier having all ancestors from England, I tend to be a little stand-offish.

But I’ve had a few hugs lately that have warmed me from the the top of my head to the tip of my toes. Coming home from Rhode Island means seeing friends after months away. And after Covid (and now double boosted) and not hugging at ALL, I find a need to grab friends and hold on for a few moments.

This morning I had one of those hugs from someone I don’t see very often. After a long squeeze, we caught up, and I found myself answering her questions about family, Rhode Island, travel, and poetry. It was so affirming. I ended the quick conversation with “Life IS good.” I hadn’t said that in a while, and it felt almost overwhelming to admit. I can wallow around in dark places for too long when I start thinking about my health/aging/loss issues.

Landing back here in Virginia was hard. I missed Rhode Island desperately, and being here felt strange and awkward. I mentioned to David how loud it is. We live on an emergency route, so we hear sirens all day and night. People walk home from bars and restaurants late at night and laugh- loudly. Dogs bark. Cars and motorcycles roar their engines. It’s almost too much.

I do berate myself for getting mired in this– after all, I have two really cool places to live, food to eat, heat for my houses, and children/grandchildren I visit with regularly.

But it was good to feel like I was getting over the hump this morning. It was good to realize again what lovely friends I have here. I could feel the weight lifting.


Filed Under: community, culture, home

Well, hello there new year

January 1, 2021

I read once that you should find a few things that are treats, things you love, to boost your spirits. So, in addition to capturing morning sunrises, I’ve discovered these:

  • podcasts while I walk (Ten Percent Happier, Untangle, Routines and Ruts, Hurry Slowly, Unlocking Us, Everything Happens and more… (they help me walk longer)
  • a warm really, fuzzy lap blanket that I crawl under to read or watch netflix. I mean, it’s so fuzzy I rub my hands over it constantly- it’s like a fake fur. And it’s blue!
  • hot chocolate in the morning around 10 am (not too late to cause stomach issues but a kind of a boost to keep me going)
  • a bath with lavender oil
  • white flickering fake candles on timers all over the house

I can’t tell you how these simple changes have improved my life. They are not things to be earned but ways to give myself a moment of comfort – just because.

“Have patience with all things. But, first of all with yourself.”

― Francis de Sales


Filed Under: culture, home, Uncategorized

How Are Your Emotions These Days?

November 15, 2020

“Internal pain always comes out. Always. And who pays the price? We do. Our children, our colleagues, our communities.” — Susan David

I’m fine, I said a thousand times growing up. I’m fine. I was taught to hold those feelings in, bury them, and put on a happy face. Well, I imploded later in life, and it affected me and my family. I wish I’d had a better handle on dealing with feelings, but the one thing I can do now is try to do better.

I’ve been reading Cassandra Speaks: When Women Are the Storytellers, the Human Story Changes by Elizabeth Lesser. She helps explain why many of us, especially those of an age, struggle with speaking up in a clear, confident voice. Her anecdotes and research, though, tell a future of a new hero’s journey, a better path for all of us to exist in community.

This is what she says about her book: Part One explores the myths and stories that are in the DNA of our culture. Part Two looks at women and power and redefines what it means to be courageous, daring, and strong. And Part Three offers “A Toolbox for Inner Strength.” I offer introspective exercises to help us be both strong-willed and kind-hearted, to overcome the “imposter syndrome,” and to support each other as we navigate a collective rite of passage. And I include my own stories of failures and victories at work and at home, as a mother and a wife, as a leader in my organization. I do this because I know when one person digs deep and tells her most honest, vulnerable tales, it helps others claim their own stories and use them to grow into their most courageous and creative selves. And that is my greatest hope for Cassandra Speaks. 

While we are home during this pandemic, spend this time with your feelings. Let them play out. Wallow in them if you need to. But then deal with them. Change the ending to your story. As Susan says, “we own our emotions. They don’t own us.”


Filed Under: culture, emotions

Practicing Forgiveness

October 25, 2018

I am a feeler, an empath. “You’re too sensitive,” I’ve been told.

But over the past ten years, I’ve been practicing being more resilient, more forgiving of myself.  Writing helps, finding the parts of my story that don’t work for me any longer. Breathing deeply and whooshing it all away helps, too.

There is such a mystery as to why we act the way we do and make certain choices. Becoming more thoughtful about those choices– and realizing that we do, in fact, have a choice, has helped me feel less stressed.

Two new practices:

  • listening to a meditation podcast before I go to sleep each night
  • paying less attention to the news

When you forgive, you in no way change the past – but you sure do change the future. Bernard Meltzer

Be kind to yourself….


Filed Under: community, culture, kindness

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