I first heard this story on the public radio show “Speaking of Faith” that is now called “On Being,” hosted by Krista Tippett.  On the show, she interviews all sorts of interesting people, all of them deep thinkers and mystics and wonderers in their own ways.  A few days ago, I read it again in Tippett’s most recent book,Becoming Wise.  It’s an important story, I think.  I’m glad I was reminded of it these years later.  It’s the story of the Birthday of the World. This version below is as told by Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, a medical doctor who has a unique and much needed perspective on spirituality, healing, and living (and dying) well.  Her grandfather gave the...

I’m a model and actress. It is a job. I go to lots of casting calls and auditions. Lots. So many. Several each week. What this looks like is this: I memorize lines, I dress in the manner the director requests, I prepare my hair and makeup to match their requests for on-camera auditions, I figure out childcare, I rearrange meetings, I plot trips and track mileage and keep parking receipts and log hours. This acting and modeling thing is a business, yo! And it is fun and I love it and it is work. In the last week my agent has sent me to two big casting calls. And when I say big they’re high-profile clients (like Coca-cola) so the rate for a...

“Hhhmmmm…..la la la la…….mmmm…..yeah, yeah yeah” Silence. 30 seconds later: “Ahhhhhhh, ah ah ah ah.  La la la la, la la la la la la.  Ah, ah ah ah ah ah ah.  The girl who has…everything.” Silence. 15 seconds later. “Joy to the world.   Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah..” And so on. This is the common soundtrack to our mornings.  My daughter Eva, who will be five years old in a week, almost always starts singing before she’s out of her bed after waking up in the morning.  She doesn’t discriminate with her choice of material – Disney songs, made up gibberish, hymns – anything is fair...

            You know that saying, the one about how life sometimes throws a curveball? It popped into my head the other day, and I just found the notes that I’d scribbled down when it did.  Seems like a blog worthy topic, yeah?  It’ll do, anyway. So without further adieu, when life throws a curveball, here are a few options: Duck.  You could hit the deck, move yourself out of the oncoming path, avoid interacting with the ball entirely.  And try not to worry about what it ends up hitting behind you.  You could avoid the ball completely. Let it hit you.  You could let the ball make contact and deal with any...

People who just know what to do in the center of crisis amaze me.They don’t wait. They don’t say, “Let me know what I can do.” They just do the right thing. How do they know what to do? Where did they learn that? I desperately want to be one of those people, but I’m not. Yet. In January, crisis happened to me. My baby landed in the hospital for three weeks, and my toddler wasn’t allowed to visit. My spouse and I switched off between home and the hospital like ships passing in the night. My people swooped in and did all the right things to help that I didn’t even know I needed. I paid attention, and now I have some moves to steal. If you, like me, want to...

Dear Gloria & Harold, Peace be with you my dear children. I started this letter when there was one single day left in 2016. Now there is one single day left before the next president of the US is officially sworn in to office. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about the results of the US election. I’m embarrassed by our country. I don’t know what to say sometimes when the topic of the election comes up. I spent so much time the day of the election telling you that I was beyond thrilled to have a woman as president. I was truly certain Hillary would win. She just had to win. I just couldn’t imagine there would be anyone who would seriously, with a deep review of...

In 1929, Virginia Woolf wrote an extended essay that argued for a literal and figurative space for women writers in a literary tradition dominated by men. The essay is titled “A Room of One’s Own.” Today, the excavation work of creating space for women is still exhaustingly real. Without intentional and constant upkeep, a female space can dissolve in a matter of moments. Yet when carved out and tended to, women take up space and create worlds and languages for the benefit of all. In our home, my spouse and I decided to turn our third bedroom into my writing room. The space is sacred to me. I hung maps and pictures on the walls that tell my story. I put books...