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| I’VE BEEN THINKING |
Remove the Muzzle
As the newest trustee of the Sundance Institute, I recently had the great privilege of attending our theater labs in Park City with artists from all over the world.I observed, spellbound, as writers and directors and actors and composers freely presented their theatrical works in progress.It is an act of bravery to put your art on the line; to invite strangers in to share an intimate experience th
How I Survived Seven Years as an Alzheimer’s Caregiver
One night, Ed, my Romanian soul mate of 30 years, called me in a panic because he couldn’t find his scissors.“Why don’t you look in the kitchen,” I suggested. That’s where he kept them.“Kitchen?” he asked. “What’s a kitchen? I don’t have a kitchen.”“You know, Ed,” I said. “Where your stove is.”“My stove? He didn’t know “stove” any more than he knew “kitchen.”“You know, Ed. Where your refrigerator
The Great Emancipator
Those three words usually bring Abraham Lincoln to mind, the American president credited with ending slavery in our nation.For me, however, someone else fills that role, someone who freed me as certainly as if chains of forged steel had been smashed and shackles removed.During my childhood and teen years I struggled with perfectionism, anxiety and shame. My parents had a strong performance orienta
Yes or No? How About Maybe?
Nothing feels freer or creates more potential for opportunity than being able to say “maybe.”A “yes or no” can create limitations. A hesitant “yes” can predetermine an outcome. A sudden “no” can limit an outcome. A confident “maybe” allows for possibilities better than we could imagine.When I was in school, “yes or no” tests made me feel fenced in by having to check just one box. Often I could com
Blessed Breaths
I’ve been thinking about breathing (yes, you read that correctly).Obviously, it’s not supposed to require much thought, but I would bet that most of us don’t truly breathe.I would bet that most of us don’t take the kind of breath that can center us, calm us, relieve the stresses in our lives and rid ourselves of that anxiety that so many if us carry through our day and that comes out in ways that
How I Broke Out of Prison
Even though I’ve grown up in a free country, I’ve spent most of my life behind bars imprisoned by a cruel and tyrannical dictator: My Mind.Since childhood, the Voice In My Head has belittled, brainwashed, taunted and tricked me into believing I was “too” this and “not enough” that.It has tortured me with a daily commentary of all the ways that so-and-so is prettier, thinner, calmer, younger, blond
Feeling Free
I remember when I was fourteen years old and my best friend and I would take the bus to the beach.We had no responsibilities, no one was looking over our shoulder, and no one even knew where we really were or what time we’d be back.This was the time of no cell phones, so there was no way for anyone to reach us. The beach was maybe forty-five minutes away, but taking the bus took us closer to two h
My Free Verse
Over breakfast this month, my six-year old daughter Eliza asked me why we celebrate the fourth of July. I found myself uttering the words, “…of the people, by the people, and for the people.”She wondered what it meant to be free.Eliza’s interest and eagerness made this Independence Day uniquely special for me. Our conversation led me to ponder my understanding of freedom and its place in my life.W
Keep Jumping
The sight of people bungee jumping off the Kawarau Bridge, in New Zealand, made me shiver.The scene is breathtaking, but it’s chilling to watch daredevils shoot out through a narrow canyon down to a rushing river below.My heart pounded on the walk to the edge of the bridge. I looked back and saw a gazing crowd gathered anxiously along the water.I wanted to run, but knew we couldn’t flake because m
Freedom and Gratitude
“And you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” – John 8:32I love my IPod. I really do.The very idea that I have, in one petite digital package, a portable library of all my favorite musical selections, is still mind-boggling for this child of the 1960’s and 70’s.But at some level I still miss my record player. (My teenage daughters would think this strange. Of course, they think
