Grasp & Release

My Father lost everything: his home, his store, almost his life, to the Nazis. After the war, he lost everything again trying to open another store in London. And finally in his later years, he lost everything again, bankrupting himself with an ill-fated travel...

Thanks for the Memories

I don’t remember any of my Mother’s stories. I do remember her by the bed, leaning over me, singing:  Tell me a story Tell me a story Tell me a story  And then I’ll go to bed There are more verses and I remember them as well. But I can’t conjure the image of my Mother...
Sing Me a Story

Sing Me a Story

There is a theory that before humans developed words, they sang to each other, like birds. Imagine the nuance of melody as the angry female demanded to know why the man was so late coming home from the hunt. Or the cooing of a lovers’ conversation. Diplomatic...
Ode to a Spatula

Ode to a Spatula

It was a beautiful relationship. Always there when I needed it, scooping, wiping, scraping without ever a complaint, our orange spatula had been with us since the days before silicone utensils. It had traveled with us when we moved from New Jersey 22 years ago, a...
Time is On My Side

Time is On My Side

It started innocently enough. I was working with a retired client and asked how she had done with her movement practice during the last week. I had given her 5-10 minutes of movement explorations to support her learning. She sighed, “I haven’t done it once. I just...
I Smell You

I Smell You

I was on a walk the other day and passed a woman who smelled like she had just stepped out of the shower. The fresh, pleasant scent wafted down the street, making me smile. Why would that scent make me happy?  We live in a world of smell: the scent of bread and...
Get Real

Get Real

Merriam-Webster has announced that the word of the year is “authentic.” Apparently it was searched more than any other word this year. You’d think we know the definition: not false or imitation: REAL, ACTUAL. The folks at Webster explained that humanity’s concern over...
What’s Yours Is Mine

What’s Yours Is Mine

The harvest is done. The deer got all the grapes. The voles feasted on the sweet potatoes (I rescued eight). The tomato hornworms had their way with, yes, my tomatoes – in spite of my propitiating the devas, thanking the parasitic wasps who laid their eggs on...
Who lurks beneath the mask? 🎭

Who lurks beneath the mask? 🎭

Shortly after I had given up my performing career, I was invited to a Halloween party. I had just spent the last 25 years donning costumes, performing on stage and at hundreds of parties as everything from a Florida retiree to a Star Trek character. The idea of...
Who’s Complaining?

Who’s Complaining?

I wasn’t allowed to complain as a child. Each time I whined because I wanted a parka like Kathy H’s or a Barbie like Mary J’s or at least pizza, I was admonished. “You have no right to complain. You have not been captured and tortured by Nazis. You have not had your...