In Uncategorized on June 19, 2014 at 7:12 pm

Here is something that I saved on my desktop from April 4, 2014. I like to do “thoughtless” writing and this was one of those where I wrote whatever came to my fingertips.


Imagine something green. It wells up and sprouts from your mind. Let it flow. Let it grow. How tall these are, reaching ever towards the sky. The sky is the limit, however it isn’t the limit at all, is it? Imagine walking through and seeing all of the beauty. It touches your soul in a way that you can’t put to words. It’s a feeling beyond verbal communication. There are some ideas too large for words. When you try to explain, you belittle and restrain the thought by putting words around it to define it, to contain it, to transport it but this idea needs freedom to live, true freedom. It needs the little hope of indescribably in order to survive, and then, to thrive. It will be transplanted and will eventually begin to live on its own will and in its own plot. How, then, can we try to limit our thoughts? How, then, can we try to limit our response to those thoughts? How, then, can we try to limit the ultimate fallout of that response? We suppress and retract and hope no one ever associated us with that thought in the first place.

Cup of Sugar

In Observation on May 30, 2014 at 6:05 pm

I recently found myself in the ridiculous predicament of having a can but no can opener. (Isn’t it amazing how much more difficult simple actions that rarely require extra thought can become because of a lack of proper tools?) What was I to do? We’re moving and the can opener was lost in the abyss of boxes and my work was having a Hispanic-themed potluck that obviously requires black olives. Obviously. As most of my generation will do, I turned to Google. “Google,” I said, “how can I open a can without a can-opener?” Based on the options came up, I knew that I was not alone in this sad state of can-opener-lessness. Then Google said, “Check Wiki (with pictures).” Wonderful! Only to my dismay, the home versions of opening cans are…barbaric. You need tools and other sharp things or rocks and other hard things. Not for me. Upon scrolling to the bottom of the page Wikipedia said, “Ask a neighbor.” I stared for a while, a bit dumbfounded. Was I really so thick that I didn’t even think about asking the people that were less than 100 feet from the very place in my kitchen that I was standing? Apparently. So I put my big girl shoes on, knocked on the neighbor’s door, and my problem was solved. How fascinating.

All of that to say, I felt convicted. Where is my sense of community? I find that my generation tries to build its own community instead of partaking in the communities that already exist. This, of course, is a generalized statement but it holds a lot of truth. Of course relationships need to be built and maintained but I feel sad that I will never know the names of the people in the neighborhood that I now live in–I’m moving tomorrow, after all. But how often will I repeat this?  When I was a child, my favorite part of the day was going out to play with the kids in my neighborhood. We didn’t always have to get along or agree but we had a lot of fun and we were creative together. I want my neighbors to know my name, to know that if they need a cup of sugar–or a can-opener– that they can ask me. To quote one of my favorite movies 13 Going on 30, “I think we all – I think all of us – want to feel something that we’ve forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn’t realize how much we were leaving behind. We need to remember what used to be good. If we don’t, we won’t recognize it even if it hits us between the eyes.” I’m definitely going to strive to be that cup-of-sugar neighbor!

Thanks for reading!

advice for a generation

In Advice for a Generation, Office Depot on November 10, 2013 at 7:19 am


As I was speaking with a gentleman I was ringing out, he mentioned that his wife had died some years ago. I apologized and I asked him how long they had been married– 31 years. Amazing. On his way out, I asked him, “What is your advice for my generation?” He said, “I’ll tell you what my parents always told me… there are three “l”s to live by: love, laughter, and loyalty. Every relationship needs them, especially a marriage.”

So that’s it: love, laughter, and loyalty.