One week ago, a group of awesome daughters met to honor our mothers. We began to tell stories that had been held closely for years, and found that we didn't want to stop. Then I shared the story of the pork cake that was replaced by persimmon cake, and how a simple change in perspective (and ingredients) released me from repeating a family tradition that was making me sick. Wouldn't it be lovely to drop a deeper line into this mother lode of wisdom, creativity, and joy? Rituals of … [Read more...]
Pork Cake or Persimmon: Women’s Stories Evolve
I've always found groups of women produce fascinating stories and brilliant solutions. Whenever I am in a transition, there are women around me in the same boat. We bond, magnetically –like Spanky and Our Gang– and the tide pulls us forth. There was an early writing group I dubbed Ladies of the Lake (LOL); then another, Great Ones (GO); I convened a series of Goddess Brunches to … [Read more...]
Honoring Our Mothers; Honoring Ourselves
On Monday, I had the privilege of sharing stories about our mothers with ten women I've known through my writing circles, yoga, and teaching. Our mothers had names like Evangeline, Antoinette and Margery. They raised gaggles of children, cleaned house wearing spike heels, and had dinner ready for their husbands every evening. We said their names. We honored their struggles. We shared our own. I've heard from many more than could attend that the pain of unresolved questions about mother … [Read more...]
Summer’s End
When I saw this painting on Alice's easel, I cried. She was going to die, and she knew it. That's what I saw. My mother loved what she called "jumping off places" like this path across the dunes to the ocean. I couldn't let the painting out of my life, so I bought it and hung it in my studio. One day I was writing about the painting and I noticed that the two figures crossing the dunes resembled the two of us. My mother was shorter than me, and she favored red. I love blue. The conversation … [Read more...]
November Light
Although I participated in two Thanksgiving dinners, I am feeling lighter than last week. Why? Because we finally buried my mother's ashes in the Moorestown Quaker cemetery that she chose as her final resting place. The family gathered there on Saturday morning. We read and spoke of her love and the way she held us to ourselves and to each other. I had removed the urn from my dining room cabinet, where it had rested for more than eleven years. Paul and I had prepared a Thanksgiving feast for my … [Read more...]
The practice of good-bye
I was chopping celery for dinner three weeks ago, when the chirpy Brit-Indian inflection of a BBC World announcer interrupted my flow: Technology Giant Apple announced the death of its cofounder Steve Jobs today. Why was Apple the subject of this sentence? As a Mac aficionado, I mourn the loss of Steve Jobs’ edgy spirit in this world, but as an Apple stockholder, I’m less concerned. “Technology Giant Apple” will survive, or not. I’m more interested in the way we speak about death, our … [Read more...]