Close up Hands Tea x

Sit a bit and hear some observational stories I’ve been steeping.

“Mom, is that true?”

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Make Hey! — while the sun shines. Even a little.

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Envy. Envy. Envy.

Green-Eyeglasses
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Journal

Abuse Molds You

17

2015

Abuse molds a person, whether by actual hands of aggression or by words. Patrick Stewart recently came out to talk about the abuse he was subjected to as a child and I’ve never wanted to hug a stranger (which I often do) so much in my life. What particularly affected me was his take on the flip comments made by others about the abuse, about what triggered it. As if it were justifiable if someone asked for it. One of […]

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Honest Observation

17

2015

As someone who writes about Observation for Conversation (says it right there – ^ – up on the website banner), part of the process is being sensitive to what goes on around me. This may come as a surprise, but being sensitive means… I am sensitive.  There is a vulnerable underbelly that gets exposed now and again.  Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because having a gooey, creamy center allows you to care and feel deeply and that is a […]

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Not dead yet.

16

2015

An awful (and I do mean awful) lot of my head space is filled with the voice of the great patriarch in my life saying things like, “It is such a shame you didn’t do anything with your life, when you were younger.” And, “What a loss, that you didn’t do more with your life.” Those phrases started when I was 24 years old. I have to tell you, it has been pretty demoralizing to have to live with the […]

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Mothership Adrift

09

2015

Awhile back, I stopped writing for anyone but my private journals (many small books I keep in my purse, my nightstand and a designated file in my laptop), at the time explaining that I was empty and had no more to say. That wasn’t entirely true. An awful lot of what I needed to say did not need to be shot out into space. The words swirling in my head and heart needed to be contained in a capsule of […]

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My house is in order. But my hands are a mess.

17

2015

For a moment I can say, “My house is in order.”  I’m pretty sure that this business of being “in order” will last about five minutes. Honestly, I’d really like it to last longer, but I’m not so sure it’s in the cards for my household.  Five minutes is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, but I’d still like more of this balance and order.  I dunno.  Say, maybe… 20 minutes?  After all, experts say […]

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Radio: A game of minutes.

17

2015

Every now and again, I have an interview with someone who ends our segment by saying, “Wow. I had no idea exactly what all you had to do in a few short minutes!” Yeah. When you get to see all of the plates being spun at one time it can be dizzying to watch. It’s even more so, when you’re the one in the roll-y chair behind the microphone and every minute is accounted for.  Well, every second really. Today, a […]

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She Who Harvests/Reaps

18

2015

The name given to me at birth — either by the nuns, my birth mother or my adopted mother (they all had a different story) – means “Reaper” or “She who harvests.”  No matter who bestowed the name, I have always said, when asked what I harvest/reap, “I collect people.” Not in the weird, creepy soul-collecting way of the horror genre of film and television, but in the “YOU could be my friend” way. Today, was my birthday. While I […]

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