I remember the one tragic time my dad truly did something for himself. It had been his dream to restore an antique truck, something from the 1930s, when headlights were still set out on top of the front fenders. When I was in high school, we found the body of a 1937 Ford pickup on … Continue reading Why don’t I believe in resting?
I hadn't told anyone I knew that I had been blogging because I was worried about what people might think.
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I went to yoga this morning. Later, I reflected on what the voice was saying.
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The voice demands, “Who do you think you are, aspiring to such heights?”, and something in me wants to respond with, “Yeah, maybe I’m not capable of being more.”
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I visited the killing fields in Cambodia, just outside Phnom Penh. It is so terrible that what happened there. There are no words. I think people should know about it but I don't have the words to tell it. A while ago, the area was excavated and they dug up all the bones they could … Continue reading Healing from betrayal
I’m in the living room of a girlfriend with her, my husband, and a mutual friend who is staying at her place while he’s in town. He has a background in music and South American culture, and he’s tinkering on the piano. My friend suggests he teach me how to salsa. “No thanks,” I say, … Continue reading When my worst nightmare of public humiliation came true
