Month: March 2020

An unspoken judgment wafted through the rear corridors of my mind every time I heard the word. People kept talking about seeking “distractions”. Meanwhile, I tried to avoid them. I’ve long seen distractions as something that derail me from my path. The phone call that turns the broiling garlic bread to black char. The rabbit hole of the web as I procrastinate starting this week’s blog. The half package of Girl Scout Thin Mints that takes me away from a good cry. Distractions can interfere with our goals, the precious present moment, and from what we don’t want to see.

I lifted the dirt filled tray out from beneath the radiator in the kitchen. I pulled back the plastic wrap that had turned it into a mini greenhouse. I gasped. The salvia had sprouted.  It was just days after the World Health Organization declared the pandemic when the tiny threads of green popped out.   A week earlier, when the country was commencing its collapse under coronavirus, I’d sought solace in purchasing potting soil instead of toilet paper.  Each morning I say hello to my seedlings. I eagerly examine them.  I gently water them from the cheerful can that once held Tropical Cherry Sparkling Water.   Connecting with nature. Focusing on what is in front of me. Doing what I can.  Each small act that

“You need a haircut,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. I felt the sting. I looked in the mirror then decided not to argue with a five-year-old.  He went on. “You look like a lion.” Feeling bad about my hair has been a part of my history since childhood. More than one home haircut left my bangs chopped to the top of my forehead. In first grade a big section of the right side of my head was shaved for a surgery. One well-intended adult said “Well, you’re still a nice girl,” and I knew the rest of