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When I ope my lips, let no dog bark
Don’t you sometimes wonder about the way we humans think? Why do we assume that how we understand things transcends all other mammals -all other animals or plants for that matter? Is it simply a matter of our hubris, or is it because each of us is conscious of our own individuality: our difference from…
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There is flattery in friendship
I have always admired liminality; for me, boundaries are also thresholds. And yet there are areas where, until recently, only angels dared to tread. But I am content to watch from afar; I have neither the need, nor the desire to trespass; I am content with who I am, but curious about who I am…
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My body, myself
I have to admit that I have long considered that expressions like ‘I was just following my heart’, or ‘It just felt right’ were on the woo-woo side of the curtain -that they were attempts to justify an action for which no other suitable explanation could be found. As if we felt compelled to resort…
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Utere, non numera
There was a time when I believed that practice made perfect, but now that I am old, I have to wonder why it matters. Not so much the need to practice, you understand, but more the need to strive for perfection. Surely practicing is meant to accomplish something else -we can never achieve perfection. In…
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The feast of languages
I’ve never been very good at foreign languages -perhaps that’s why I am so fascinated that some people can speak more than one with seeming ease. Some languages, I can recognize by the sound alone, although I don’t understand what is being said, for others I can make out a few words, although seldom the…
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A hug is always the right size.
I did not grow up in a hugging family. It’s something I had to learn -along with shaking hands, and little taps on the arm to indicate I was both listening and understanding what the other person was saying. We did not touch each other very much. I don’t want to suggest that we never…
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I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks.
There was a time -an admittedly naïve time- when I assumed it was not only polite to thank somebody if they did something for me, but rude and ungrateful if I neglected this common courtesy. I still feel that way, of course, but of late I’ve wondered whether constant thanking dulls its effect: if every…
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A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise
I’d like to think I’m generous; I may not have as much to contribute as Bill Gates, but I have to hope it’s the thought that counts, not the amount. Still, there has always been a nagging feeling that I could give more if I were -what?- more aware of the needs of others? More…
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Normal is an illusion
When we are very young, asking the question of whether or not we are normal would be unlikely: we are all different. Unless we are twins, we don’t look much like the others with whom we play; we act differently, have varied preferences, and often exhibit our unique personalities when reacting to things we encounter.…
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Derivative Anger
I bumped into a Jessica the other day. She was standing at a corner of a busy street waiting for the little man to light up on the crosswalk sign. I hadn’t seen her for ages, but apart from the inevitable tell-tale wrinkles of a maturing face, she looked the same as she had when…
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