Posts filed under Personal essay

My Life Has Been Shaped by Antisemitism

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t aware of antisemitism (not surprising for one who comes from a family with a history like mine. More about that later.) What’s been startling to me lately is recognizing that, until a few years ago, I never thought of myself as a possible target of antisemitism. An interaction with my father twenty-five years ago accurately describes how I have felt for most of my life in America.

Dying to Wake Up

Though Boo wasn’t my “real” grandfather I could not miss the realness of his final days. Despite the sticky doorknob, the smell of last week’s lunch, dead flowers, and the junk pile obstacle course, I made my way to his bedside. The clutter used to spark an uncomfortable itch throughout my body, but I’d accepted it. His 98-year-old body was tired, but his spirit was very much alive as he pondered the end.

Prophecy, Legacy, and Trees

I have dreams that come true. Not all of them, of course, but enough that I now accept this strange unbidden gift as a natural part of who I am. For example, I once dreamed that a dear friend’s daughter was pinned underneath a huge tree that had fallen on her. In the dream, she was alive, but she was unable to move the tree, and she was hurt. The next day I found out this same 16-year-old girl, had been driving too fast on a gravel road, went airborne over a bridge, and hit a telephone pole in her dad’s Dodge Ram. The pole fell, totaling the truck, and trapping her inside. She was banged up, shook up, but alive and safe. Before she had fully recovered, her dad received a bill from the city to replace the telephone pole.

Posted on January 1, 2024 and filed under Issue #85, Personal essay.

The Role of Our Autobiography in Our Present and Future Life

Our past deeply impacts our present. Our childhood experiences have a huge impact on how we view the world today. We are deeply influenced, for better or worse, by the dynamics in our family, our religious upbringing, our cultural experiences, any bullying or trauma we endured, and the list goes on. All of these experiences are part of our autobiography and influence how we behave, think, and feel. In addition, how we experience life today, will impact how we experience life tomorrow.

The Power of Ancestry and Personal Discovery

My sister Lisa and I often joke about our rabbit hole research inquiries. The thrill of the potential finds keeps us searching. What started as separate hobbies eventually merged to combine into writing local history as well as GENMEMS (genealogical memoirs and house histories) for clients. Lisa summed up her genealogy enthusiasm by saying, “It’s like a puzzle, or mystery, to see how everything connects or impacts each other.” That connectivity is what we all need to take a closer look at to understand our inherited (yet transformable) tendencies, how we can gather strength from our ancestors’ stories, and finally, how to keep descendants and future communities in our conscious decision-making.

Out of My Comfort Zone: Answering the Call to Rest

At the beginning of this year, I did what many of us do when preparing for another trip around the sun. I set about visioning, but also taking real stock and looking at the reality of the health of my enterprises, my finances, and my body. My approach to the known challenges, I decided, was to bring in freshness of perspective, make some pivots, and then put my head down and work it. My retail business and its educational programming are currently at a critical juncture, and they really needed my undivided attention and energy. Therefore, plans for personal development (i.e, retreats, trainings, coaching), travel, or casual socializing were put on hold. I felt good about this plan. I love my work. I want my business to thrive, and I needed a big turnaround in terms of finances. So, I grabbed my oar. However, a naughty word kept creeping into my thoughts…Sabbatical.*

Posted on September 1, 2023 and filed under Columns, community, Issue #84, Pagan, Personal Growth, Personal essay.

Out of My Comfort Zone: Sometimes I Fall: The Discomfort of Asking

In response to your kind inquiry, ‘Would you be interested in writing?,’ right off the bat, I’ve been transported a few miles, to the outskirts of the town of Discomfort. I stare at its welcome sign. Founded: at the beginning of human time. Population: countless.

Picture of My Past

In November of 1997, my brother and I were visiting our parents to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. We’ve known since we were sixteen, when our mother let slip one day that she was our father’s second wife, that our father had lost his first wife and three young children in Auschwitz. And long before that revelation, we’d heard about our father’s other relatives who were also killed in Auschwitz. Our father occasionally told us stories of those people. The stories often ended with, “They were taken to Auschwitz.”

Posted on September 1, 2023 and filed under Issue #84, Personal essay.

Out of My Comfort Zone: Stretching Out of My Comfort Zone

Generally speaking, my comfort zone is not small. I have lived in foreign countries, trekked in the Himalayas, paraglided off a 5,000 foot cliff, flown in teeny tiny planes over the Amazon rain forest, stood on my head on various mountain tops, and held a giant anaconda around my neck (that one was mostly for the photo op). But when asked to write an article about stepping out of my comfort zone, I immediately knew what I’d share. And it turns out I am not alone in this fear. In fact, it comes in at number two on the list of people’s biggest fears. It is of course, the fear of public speaking (in case you’re interested, fear of death is number one on the list).

How Humor Helps Me Over a Hurdle

I’m working once again to lose my post-pregnancy weight…it’s been 25 years since the baby. There have been peaks and valleys, fitness regimens and meal plans. Just when I thought I had things under control, menopause slapped me in the face. I hit a plateau. A brick wall. A stand-off.

Beautiful Ways

I was raised in rural Colorado and on the Navajo Nation reservation in Arizona, in what is known as The Four Corners region. On a map, this area appears as a cross where four right angles meet to join Colorado, Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico. This is the original home of several Native American groups, including the Navajo people, also known by their preferred name of Dine’ (dih-neh), meaning “The People.” I feel fortunate to have been immersed in such a unique culture, and I often reflect on the experiences that taught me some valuable life lessons.

Out of My Comfort Zone: Dare to Be with Lauren Crane

I look at a comfort zone like a backyard garden. Plant seeds—let’s say tomato—in rich soil and they’ll grow in fat and juicy abundance. Really cool, you say, this will be my tomato patch forevermore. Not so fast. If you keep planting the same crop in the same plot season after season, you’ll deplete the soil and, sadly, your bushel basket will be bare. But throw in parsnips the next year, plug in peas the year after that, and you’ll keep the soil balanced and fertile, ready for the next good thing. I’ll stop pretending that I have a green thumb and get to the point of this metaphor. 

Fifty Years Since We Last Went to the Moon

Fifty years ago, December 1972, was the last time men walked on the moon. (Yes, it’s only been men. I’ll get back to that later.)  Eugene Cernan, Commander of that Apollo 17 mission said then as he prepared to step off the moon for the last time, “… as I take man’s last step from the surface, back home for some time to come—but we believe not too long into the future …” 

Posted on January 1, 2023 and filed under Issue #82, Personal essay.

Tell Every Amazing Lady These Five Lessons

I am a T.E.A.L. survivor. T.E.A.L.® stands for Tell Every Amazing Lady about ovarian cancer. It is an organization (and national movement) started to help women identify signs and symptoms and urge them to seek medical help in its early stages, because ovarian cancer is often overlooked until it is too late. When it declares itself with debilitating symptoms, usually in stage III or IV, the prognosis is poor, so in an attempt to get the information out there, I share my cautionary tale.

Pulling Weeds in Crow, Montana

I was viscerally aware, that the United States of America, with the help of the Supreme Court, has broken every single treaty it signed with our indigenous siblings. The Supreme Court recently has upended environmental law. Fire season in the dry, western states has begun. I think about Jackie Whisperstep and the fragility of her house given the heartiness of the weeds that grow too near it. And I long to go back, to stand with those to whom we made promises we did not keep.

Wintering Within

As I write this the days are lengthening, the sun riding high in the sky, and the expansiveness of summer stretches before me—though the days seem to be filling fast. So much to cram in here, in Michigan, where summer is the fleetest season: lake time, picnics, parties, peony blooms, and cicada chirps, fireflies and star showers, light until late in the evening and 4 a.m. birdsong. Long, hot, humid-filled days and hopefully, lots of water play. But you will be reading this after all that has passed, and the days shorten. I am always surprised how soon the dark comes in late August, how quickly the dusk rises, how the trees begin their color change, their leaf drop.