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Category Archives: Finding Hope
On April 19, 1987, the Los Angeles Times ran a commentary by my friend Mark Haunfelner. It was titled “A Hope Exists to ‘Cure’ the World” and it was an especially poignant and ambitious kind of hope in view of … Continue reading
How you stand here is important. How you listen for the next things to happen. How you breathe. (William Stafford) “How you fall is also important,” says my friend Nyuol, who is twenty-six but very wise. “If you fall, … Continue reading
Peering at the rain-smeared night through the windows of the airport bus makes me feel the way I used to feel in the 1970s when I was a girl in my twenties sitting on Greyhound buses, lost and confused, maybe a … Continue reading
My father-in-law at ninety sits in his La-Z-Boy playing rousing music on his iPad, a newfangled device he has grown fond of. It’s vintage Czechoslovakian polka music, he says, and it makes him happy, so it becomes the soundtrack for the … Continue reading
We went to visit friends in northern California recently, where we walked in a misty redwood forest and one day along a narrow trail that went on and on with nothing to see but the trees and brush on either … Continue reading
What if the mightiest word is love? Love beyond marital, filial, national, love that casts a widening pool of light, love with no need to pre-empt grievance. In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, any thing can be made, any … Continue reading
I have often felt there is a lack of ceremony in my life, that rites of passage to mark transitions are missing. Difficult events exert their crushing weight without the emotional release some kind of ritual might have provided, and the … Continue reading
It’s time for me to tell you about my other website, an ongoing labor of love created for the gathering and archiving of stories and memories through personal interviews. I hope you will visit and explore it at your leisure. Here … Continue reading
My morning began with fresh-squeezed orange juice that I sipped standing in front of the kitchen window while watching the rain and green-ing hills. Those little oranges may look puny and bruised, but they are sweet and good and plentiful. I … Continue reading
This post is connected to yesterday’s blog of holiday reflections prompted by a photograph from 1962. I also shared the picture on Facebook, and two of my siblings commented. The sister who was a toddler in my father’s lap in that photo was obviously too … Continue reading