Desert Laura

Have you ever seen anything in your life more wonderful than the way the sun, every evening, relaxed and easy, floats toward the horizon and into the clouds or the hills, or the rumpled sea, and is gone— and how it slides again out of the blackness every morning, on the other side of the world, like a red flower streaming upward on its heavenly oils, say on a morning in early summer, at its perfect imperial distance— and have you ever felt for anything such wild love— do you think there is anywhere, in any language, a word billowing enough for the pleasure that fills you, as the sun reaches out, as it warms you … from “The Sun,” by Mary Oliver

As another Valentine's Day passes, I start to think ahead for what I'll do for next year's event. I can hardly believe that it's been 3 years already since my first anti/alternative V-day extravaganza occurred. It started as a chocolate and wine party...the perfect setting for friends to come over and share stories, relax and enjoy each others company. Oh, and I remember that we burned items that our ex-lovers gave us. That was a nice highlight. Just a side note: chocolate Hershey's lips don't burn and give off a strange glow when on fire. So on this day, during this week, I celebrate all things lovely - and with that, all the things that I love and am grateful for in my life. This year, 12 close friends and family gathered at my house for a dinner party. I prepared a meal for everyone; about 80% of the food came from local farms or the Market. And everything was Italian-inspired. Since most of us were going to run the 1/2 marathon the next day, I thoug...

That time I thought I could not go any closer to grief without dying I went closer, and I did not die. Surely God has His/Her hand in this, as well as friends. Still, I was bent, and my laughter, as the poet said, was nowhere to be found. Then said my friend Daniel (brave even among lions), "it's not the weight you carry but how you carry it - books, bricks, grief - it's all in the way you embrace it, balance it, carry it when you cannot, and would not, put it down." So I went practicing. Have you noticed? Have you heard the laughter that comes, now and again, out of my startled mouth? How I linger to admire, admire, admire the things of this world that are kind, and maybe also troubled - roses in the wind, the sea geese on the steep waves, a love to which there is no reply? poem by Mary Oliver

Sometimes I think I have my mother's hands. While hers are remarkably soft and white, mine are calloused, tan and rough. But we both share the wrinkles that come from age, in addition to burns, cuts, scrapes and bruises, from cooking, cleaning (and in my case gardening...my mother hates to garden). But more often now I think I'm not a whole lot like my mother. I'm not a mother nor a wife. I've never had to sacrifice the things she has for her husband and children. I've never been forced to choose between those two and live with that decision for quite some time. I wish I was more like her. I wish I shared her grace, poise, patience, and hope. These days, I work to make my mother proud of me, if only she could see herself in me just a little bit. I wondered what she thinks when people ask about her daughters. What does she say about me? Does she say "I have 2 lovely daughters, both are married to handsome men and have beautiful, amazingly gifted chi...

Step 1: document what you believe has happened and what you need to forgive Step 2: Acknowledge the way the incident made you feel Step 3: Recognize who is being hurt by your unforgiveness Step 4: Acknowledge the part, if any, you played in the incident Step 5: Acknowledge both positive and negative parts of the relationship Step 6: Write a letter to the person who has wronged you. THIS LETTER IS NOT GIVEN TO THE PERPETRATOR (okay, that's the "official" thing to say, but if it's not incredible hurtful, mail it) Step 7: Crate a ceremony to rid yourself of the letter, symbolizing the end of your hurt (like hitting 'send' on an e-mail, or putting a stamp on the envelope...that should do it) Step 8: Understand that forgiveness is a process and some of the feelings may manifest themselves again. This is not unusual, but creating a method of reducing your anger is helpful ( and drinking should not be one of your healthy methods, as much as you like your red wine...

First of all, I'm the first to say that I make a very bad therapist. I'm a pretty good social worker, but as far as therapy goes...I stink. Here are some reasons: Some would say it's good to write a letter to someone you hate and tell them all that's on your mind/in your heart; but don't mail it! But I say, mail it! What's the point in writing it if you don't get the satisfaction of knowing they've read it and know exactly how you feel? Now, I know that it won't mean much and not to expect anything from them, but it does feel good knowing they've heard your feelings. Some say it's not healthy to check the voice mail messages of your ex's, follow them, sneak up on them, or check their computer history. I say, how else would you know what they've been up to? I mean, really. You can't trust people these days, especially an ex or a "soon to be" ex. It helps to be aware of their habits because when there's a brea...

It's been a while since I can remember my dreams. So, when I woke up remembering this one vividly, I wonder about its meaning. The dream: I am outside in a public area. Don't remember who or what was around me. I see pine trees and woods all around. Some other stuff happens that I can't remember, but the part that's vivid is the last piece. I'm walking up a slope towards the trees, woods, and see stuffed animals all around. Under each tree is a stuffed animal propped up against the tree trunk, just sitting there. And throughout the woods floor are stuffed animals just sitting around. As I'm walking towards them (maybe to pick one up and throw to my dog???) they all start to frown. Then, as I get closer, each of them has a frown face on them :( For some reason, this is my cue that something bad is going to happen. I begin to run back down the hill/slope and tell the people all around (now there are random people around) that the flood is coming. My...