A few evenings ago, when my broken and surgically repaired elbow had healed sufficiently to be able to turn the steering wheel, and I had already driven my car to physical therapy two days before without a problem, I still asked Tony to drive me to my next PT appointment,…
I used to think this question was motivational and even profound: “What would you do if you could not fail?” Now, I hate it. The saying taunts me as if to suggest I’ve somehow forgotten my dream. The dream I’ve held onto with a loosening grip since I was old…
How I’m using my pottery class as a practice in learning to “dare greatly;” be vulnerable, be willing to fail in order to succeed.
It occurs to me as I approach the Interstate, that I’m about to follow a sign that I’ve been avoiding eye contact with for years. And this time I’m on my own. Well, except for Bruce the psychedelic sea turtle, a stuffed passenger I’ve named after my driving instructor. With…
Not Getting on (the PhD) Track Not until senior year in college did I learn that not everyone has to earn PhD. That’s how I used to put it, anyway, and only half joking. My parents both had PhDs, their friends all (seemingly) had PhDs. I certainly knew that plenty…
An unexpectedly effective therapy for fear of highway driving.
“I’m always afraid my first swim of every season,” a veteran triathlete told me at my second open water swim practice with a local triathlon club. More than a few good swimmers and determined triathletes told me stories of feeling fear or even having panic attacks in open water. A…
From the sandy beach, I followed the gaze of the triathlon club’s swim test official. He pointed to the buoys marking lengths across the roped off area of the lake; four lengths were required, roughly 200 yards. I regularly swim 2000 yard workouts in the pool and am barely winded after…
A friend says crochet is as much undoing as doing; unraveling hours of work is simply part of the process. You will inevitably notice a mistake many rows later and then have to tear out row after row of work to fix it. Then you move forward again. That sounds…
I think it happened this way: I am sitting high up in the salon chair, covered in a black vinyl cape from my neck past my sneakered feet. George, former stylist to the stars, and I consider my hair in the mirror, contemplating a new style. Maybe I am in…
