Reflections on the small things, and the big ones, that impact our day-to-day lives.
1 Car, 2 Cars, Red Car, New Car
I don’t really remember the first, first car my family bought other than that apparently my parents listened to almost five-year-old me when I requested “fire engine red” and that we bought it…
Gratitude
In an essay by Joan Didion that I go back to again and again, she writes: “there’s no getting around the fact that setting words on paper is the tactic of a secret…
Ain’t too proud to beg
I’m stretched out in bed, 9:30 p.m., a weeknight. A little early for me but it’s the stretching out that I crave. To lie back, my neck propped against a trio of pillows….
Talk less, say more
I have a dream . . . in which I’m sitting at a kitchen table with my cousins—very close cousins, whom I love dearly—and we’re reminiscing, schmoozing, laughing about old times at another…
The road not taken
Last week I got lost on my way to synagogue. If there’s a metaphor here, getting lost also speaks literally to my uncertainty (not to mention the spike in anxiety) when driving someplace…
The holy or the broken
It’s taken me a long time but I think I’ve figured it out: my mom’s affinity for musicians who are good songwriters and poets but TERRIBLE singers has something to do with her…
