Yesterday morning, I ran into a friend— let’s call her Jo— who told me she’s been working on her golf game all summer. “I can’t wait for us to play,” she said. Her sincerity and eagerness was no mirror image to my internal response. What gives?
Edith Andersen
Welcome to my blog of ruminations and essays.
The ringtone, Twinkle, goes off on my phone. I recognize it as my youngest. Glancing at my phone screen, it’s Wednesday, and it’s 11:09 am. It means she’s walked the two kids, Andrea (eight) and Kai (six), to school. Four words into the conversation, and I usually have a pretty good idea of how her day started. This time it took only one.
What goes up must come down— Newton’s law of gravity. But gravity is not responsible for the mental hem and haw, from contentment to discontent, back and forth, again and again. We worry about the future, feel guilty about the past, and are too often consumed with dark thoughts. Some people seem blessed with an easy-going demeanor able to accept their circumstances without resisting. But even those lucky few experience nights of tossing and turning. What is it in the human mind that disrupts the tranquility of our soul?
Tim thinks that high heels look good on some women. If you read the sentence closely, you’ll recognize that Tim is a man who thinks before he speaks to his wife. First, he points out the high heels look good on women. This is how he avoids his wife saying, “well, you should wear them.” […]
When our daughter, Gréta, called and asked, “are you interested in doing a Forest Bathing?” we said, oh yeah! We knew enough about Forest Bathing, sometimes called forest therapy, to want to experience it. After all, time in nature is preventive health care. Without it we experience more joint pains and body aches and lower […]
Choosing natural birth always seemed like a good idea in the planning stages and a terrible decision when in the throes of labor. As the last munchkin pushed her way into the world, I folded and pleaded for pharmaceutical assistance. “Edith,” the nurse said, “it’s too late for that now.” Boy, I hated her.
She was tall and terrifying. She wore tunics of many colors, with her mass of red hair reaching her hips. Her blood curling screams and the spear in her hand instilled terror in all who faced her.
