“I have a confession to make . . .” my substitute yoga teacher said last week at the beginning of class. Her tight face admitted guilt, matching her sheepish eyes. “My kids have been home on break and . . . I haven’t practiced yoga all week. Until this morning, when I came to my mat to prepare for this [...]
New Year resolutions come and go. They are made with a vengeance, fade mid-year and then are soon forgotten. The many resolutions I see and read, in print, on broadcast, in the stratosphere of the internet, once private, are made public with an outpouring of mind, body and soul. Most resolve to lose weight, eat better, perhaps make peace and [...]
Religious faiths such as Judaism, Muslim, and Christianity have more in common than not, especially when it comes to their holiest time of the year. This is not an observation that speaks to deep theological meanings, or the study of Gods, but rather speaks simply to humankind, of connecting to one another. Whether Christmas, Hanukkah, or the Qu’ran is observed, [...]
The holidays are a time for connecting. Whether Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah or Passover, we mark these holidays as a time to join with family and friends and celebrate traditions. And there couldn't be a more important time to find home than during the holidays. In my memoir, Under the Birch Tree, I discover the many connections that bring me to [...]
In my forthcoming memoir, Under the Birch Tree, I explore the discovery of connections and their meanings in my life. Growing up on Carlisle Avenue, I deem a birch tree, not only my buddy, but also synonymous with home. I would carry this first connection, a catalyst for many others, through the decades. Home, by definition, takes on several meanings. [...]
What is “home?” Most people would say it’s where they live, citing their address, as if to establish their unique footprint. For others, home is where they grew up, where they started. Some may even have more than one home. In my forthcoming memoir, Under the Birch Tree, my story begins with my girlhood home, the place where I grew [...]
In my early years, I grew to know a particular birch tree, planted on the same plot as I was. Its delicate arms played in uncomplicated innocence, inviting me to circle around it. I am reminded of Robert Frost’s reflections of innocence, carefree spirits, and evolving years: I like to think some boy’s been swinging them . . . And they seem not to break; [...]
“And then there was my birch buddy, never failing to wave in the picture window with its branches posing like an umbrella over our reflection, providing peace in the silence and innocence of child and home.” When I was a little girl, I remember sitting on my Dad’s lap in the wingback chair in the living room after dinner. We sat snuggly in [...]
One year ago, 38 writers, including me!, shared their stories. This writer's companion includes tips for dealing with the inner critic, strategies to motivate in dark times and lessons learned from mistakes made and overcome. I still refer often to this portable bundle of inspiration and recommend it even if you are not a writer and need your own inspiration [...]
A birch grew tall and arabesque in the corner of my front yard of my girlhood home. Through the decades, my birch tree followed me, no matter where I would find myself, signaling home, my place to be. My birch tree became my buddy, shadowing me when I would need to leave yet another resting place. No matter where I found [...]