Some people can walk up to other people and with the childlike confidence or perhaps innocence make a new friend. Like when we were in elementary school and landed on the ground after jumping down from the monkey bars. We …
I’ve been quiet since Friday. The Connecticut tragedy incited a PTSD reactive response, and to keep myself safe, I pretty much shut down my online presence. Everything I read, whether it was pleas for better gun control or essays on …
The Stigma of Connecting Mental Illness and Violence Read more »
I wrote the following last week . . . _______________ I’ve been thinking about my presence on Facebook. As my page has gotten bigger, I’ve met more and more lovely people. Unfortunately, a few folks have said some unkind, sarcastic …
As my Facebook newsfeed fills with snarky barbs, I sigh and fantasize that the 2012 Presidential Election on the sixth of November has already passed. I could write about the decline of manners; after all, it’s a time-honored pastime to …
I am honored and excited to introduce my dear friend Deborah Bryan, the author of The Monster’s Daughter and Memos from Your Closet Monster, as our guest today. What first struck me about Deb (besides the swell name of her …
Musings on Collaboration and Friendship by Deborah Bryan Read more »
“I’m going to make it.” That was my mantra during the first marathon I ran. I felt unequal to the task, and yet I knew the course and the hills and the pain in my own body would not stop …
Over the last 24 hours, a dear friend and I have been having a deep talk from one coast to the other about conflict. To read Deb Bryan’s take on why conflict is good, please swing by her blog, The …
A few friends of mine have quit Facebook in much the same way that the characters in Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged departed from their corporations and all-too public lives in search of fulfillment. I, on the other hand, have often …
I squinted into the darkness and tried to read my Nike sports band and my Droid 2. 3.02 miles. 69.78 miles in five days. 11:53 p.m. It was time. In one minute I would open the thick laundry room door. …
Friendship, Racing and the Missing Marathon Mile I jogged up the hill and spotted Sam R. about 10 yards in front of the finish line and we grinned and exchanged high-fives. Sam’s Rapunzel-like, silver-blond, braided hair glinted in the …
Friendship, Racing and the Missing Marathon Mile Read more »