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Author Archives: cynthia
Say the word cell. Cell. Say the word take. Take. Say the word death. Death. My silence is a noisy whoosh, a great amorphous inhalation. We are hurrying, waiting, enveloped by unfamiliar faces and smells, swept into the sprawling unglamorous … Continue reading
It’s my last Sunday with a tumor. Tomorrow morning we’ll be heading down to Los Angeles for a series of pre-op appointments, then we’ll spend what I am sure will be a delightful night in a residence adjacent to the … Continue reading
It has become a ritual. We set the alarm, bundle up, go outside, and stand on the deck looking westward and up, sometimes feeling silly. Why are we so drawn to these spectacles in the sky that we rouse ourselves … Continue reading
Sometimes I plan and think about a post before I blog. (Oh, that word, “blog”… it’s so ugly and dismissive.) Right now, though, I am typing quickly in a stream-of-consciousness way, maybe because this space has become a touchstone to … Continue reading
Walking down the hall to the shared bathroom in the morning with my toilet kit in hand, I had a déjà vu sensation that it was 1970, and I was living in a college dorm. When I entered the bathroom, two … Continue reading
We convened among redwood trees, four hundred participants who had come to listen, learn, and be present with one another. It was an experiment. Whoever was there were the right people, and whatever happened would be the only thing that … Continue reading
I live on two levels: here, which is a pretty nice place to be, and there, which is a thick morass of sadness and remorse about things in the past, strewn with jagged rocks of worry about what’s to come. … Continue reading
When I was a child, I had trouble choosing books…and it occurs to me I still do. I think then, as now, it was because I felt overwhelmed by the wide array of possibilities. There were just too many titles … Continue reading
It was a night of colorful dreaming. My trusty bicycle was somehow run over by a truck and lay bent and broken on the ground, but Monte picked it up and straightened it out, and then for some reason my … Continue reading