cindy
Overflowing with words,
but where do I begin?
A misfit, middle child, preacher’s kid, I escaped into the safe spaces of books and cozy chairs. Hidden behind glasses and ugly-shame, I observed. I was too much an introvert to speak my words, but pen and paper opened the valve to writing my truths. My explorations and experiences led me to question organized religion, to identify as a feminist and ally, and to understand the value of my own voice, as well as the price of remaining quiet.
A career built on writing and language skills gave me a voice in a meaningful way and an accumulation of stories to inform my life; gave me confidence. Marriage, two children, sandwich generation caregiving, the loss of loved ones have added richness and depth to my worldview. Failures, regrets, and pure bad luck color my story. Friends, older and younger, continue to teach me so much and fill my heart with joy.
My words, as a woman of slightly-more-than-middle-age, indeed overflow and cascade into the words of the next generation, my daughter Rebecca, a strong voice of her own.
Writing has always allowed me to speak the unspeakable,
empowered my thoughts and spirit, and given me grace and peace.
Writing has always allowed me to speak the unspeakable,
empowered my thoughts and spirit, and given me grace and peace.
recent posts.
Quarantine Crazy
Remember when we were all binge-watching Tiger King and waiting for Covid-quarantine to be over before Mother’s Day?
The Plot Twist
Do you ever look back on your less-positive experiences and discover they set you on the path to something great or at least better? Hindsight is a gift for reflecting on closed doors and seeing the windows that opened instead. I’m beginning to see the plot twist more regularly.
Bookshelf: April – June 2020
These are the strangest of times, with no end in sight. Covid-19 quarantine. Explosive racial unrest and social justice marches (over-riding quarantines). Political division and discord in a presidential election year. In some ways, my reading reflects the times.
My Father, My Friend
Randomly, I came across a reference to "Jonathan Livingston Seagull." I searched out Neil Diamond singing “Be” on iTunes. Sure took me back, to the time Dad gave me that book. He knew I was different from other kids, struggling to fit in; the book was his surefire way to tell me it’s okay to be who we are, that loners can be leaders….that I would “be” who I would be.
The Color of His Skin
What is a nice, privileged white woman like me supposed to think, feel, write when police officers torture a man for eight minutes, hearing him scream until he dies?
Reflections on 60
I don’t feel 60. I don’t know what 60 is supposed to feel like, but how can I have been alive six decades? It sounds a bit old to me, though my definition of “old” has certainly changed as the hill got closer. That hill.
favorite things.
authors:
Ann Patchett | Anne Lamott | Anna Quindlen | Antoine de St. Exupery
books:
The Little Prince | Harry Potter series | A Thousand Splendid Suns, and everything Khaled Hosseini has written | The Magician’s Assistant, and everything Ann Patchett has written
quotes:
“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” – Antoine de St. Exupery
“Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens.” – Khalil Gibran
“The truth will set you free but first it will piss you off.” – Gloria Steinem
background & interests.
self care:
Reading | Time with friends (and coffee or wine) | Massage/sauna
professional background:
Communications education, with a dose of English and theater. Career in public relations and marketing, primarily in not-for-profit health care.
personal growth experiences:
Becoming a mom | Losing my parents | Redefining self after an unplanned career transition
