You will take over 200 million steps in your lifetime. Imagine if your feet could narrate a travelogue, report miles and destinations, when they are at rest, and injuries they may have sustained. What would they say? They dance and run, burrow in sand, hold you in mountain pose. Your feet connect you. Your feet track memories, record the spot [...]
Happiness. We seek it; we covet it. There are endless number of books about it, how to get it, what it means, where to find it. From professors to psychologists, to doctors and yogis and anyone in between, someone has a suggestion about how to find it. Each of us has our own way to secure happiness. Some may read [...]
Memories of growing up in a north suburb of Chicago remain vivid with me today. In my memoir, Under the Birch Tree, due out in June, I recall my little-girl self’s life in my small town of Deerfield, growing up in the neighborhood of Colony Point, and on Carlisle Avenue where my home, a “red brick colonial was the unspoiled [...]
“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 [...]
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. [...]
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; [...]
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 [...]