cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
One night, sitting in front of the family television, for the first time in my life, I sobbed at the end of a touching movie. The year was 1966, and the film Born Free aired in homes across America. The movie, based on a true story, tells of a lioness named Elsa, an orphaned lion…
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Everyone wants to be accepted by their peers, but belonging doesn’t come as easily for some as for others. For the elementary school student, the first day of school brings much excitement, but it also comes with new challenges that reach beyond learning contractions and double-digit addition. Social nuances abound and add new dimensions to…
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I have grown to love the significance of rituals that mark beginnings and endings with purpose and beauty. Sitting amongst a beautiful group of women recently, I eagerly anticipated our time together. I had high expectations of sharing stories and nurturing the new relationships that come with a well-orchestrated women’s retreat. I was especially looking…
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Mornings feel safe to me. Everything is so new and fresh…safe. Recently, I settled into my comfortable space in the bay window enjoying the peacefulness of a new beginning. Welcoming the new day, I listened to the soothing sound of water as it quietly disrupted the surface of the pool. Flipping through my calendar, I…
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I’m a Boomer. In my childhood home, our telephone hung on the kitchen wall, and every time it rang, shouts of “I’ve got it!” resounded throughout the house as my brothers and I raced from every direction to get there first. Competition often provided the tension that held us close to one another: who got…
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His plan might have worked if I hadn’t been a girl. My brother was three when I was born and lived in a make-believe world created from bedtime stories and pages of well-worn children’s books. He loved hearing the same stories repeatedly, and his favorite tale included pirate ships and crocodiles. His relationship with fantasy…
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“I’m dying. I don’t know how to do this!” Laying on the bed in the dark, these words played over and over in my mind. I had felt a little off for some time, but there was nothing I could put my finger on. My family urged me to go to the doctor, but what…
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When I was seven, I wanted a swing. The simple thought of soaring weightlessly gave me a feeling of rest in my little soul. Never for a moment did I doubt my daddy could make it happen, so I asked him, knowing he would join my joyful anticipation. Just as expected, he took on my…
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Old photograph. It tells a tale as stories hide behind the veil. Little girl who watches on, surrounded—yet you’re all alone. Childhood captured in the past. The scene was set, the actors cast. Joy dissolves, evil’s prey. Your eyes cast down—you’ve flown away.
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Just inside the front door of my childhood home is a large built-in bookcase my father made when my parents bought their first house. On the nearby coast, my mother found a beautiful piece of driftwood to fill its center space, making the uniquely shaped object the focal point in our living room. Anything of…
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