Every day the first thought of the productive person is…. what do I need to accomplish? Work, laundry, grass mowing (ach), finances, really never ending. What a funny life we have decided is normal. I look at the young people and think that I am now old enough to be their grandparent, and yet I still feel like I am the hippie kid who spent her last 200 bucks on a property down payment back in 1977 with the hippie Buddhist guy with the long hair and beard with whom I lived in the tent where we conceived our first child.
An Outsider Taking It On
Having never before visited, Cannon Beach didn’t conjure images of any kind for me other than sand and waves, which can be very misleading for someone visiting from sunny Southern California, where the waves are bigger, the sand can burn your feet, and everyone runs around half-naked instead of thrice layered.
Reach out for Life
For most of us it’s hard to peel back someone’s layers to find out what a person is really feeling, especially when that person doesn’t want to show what they’re feeling. It’s easy for us to put on a mask and not burden people with our problems. But what we need to recognize is that other people hide under their facades too; and even though they may be smiling on the outside, they may be crying on the inside…
What Love Means to Me
Since childhood I’ve been exposed to love in a thousand different ways. It started with the love I have for my mother and the love she has for me. She was my first example of what love is, how it feels, how it sounds and what it looks like. Then, in my childlike brain it was translated into holding hands as you crossed the street and kisses on my fallen knees.
Grieving for the Green
On the morning of the first Earth Day a seven-year-old boy seached for salamanders in a creek. He didn’t know adults were launching a new holiday to encourage care for creation. His heart and mind were filled with amazement at the critters who lived under the damp mossy rocks. After lunch he climbed one of his favorite trees.
To a Mentor Lost…From a Child Found
Out of darkness and balloons, Jim Young stepped into my life. It was Intro to Theater, freshman year, and I had slid from harsh daylight into a darkened womb called Arena Theater, a black box theater at Wheaton College in Illinois. The balloons were tied to the floor, suspended mid-air, so that we had to walk through them like trees…
River Running Still
The river gurgled next to him, spilling over its bank and sinking into the sand beneath glistening twigs and pine needles. He looked back at its bend and watched ripples gallop like horses down the stretch. With water flowing in from the ocean, however, it gave the curious perception of fast flowing waves standing still.
Surfing Pop Culture: Searching For Rainbows
The first time I heard the opening banjo notes of The Rainbow Connection coming from a frog on a stump in the swamp, I was ten years old and sitting transfixed in the old Admiral Theater in Bremerton, Washington, watching The Muppet Movie. That was a palace with its marquee rimmed by lightning-trapped bulbs, a real ticket booth, a slanted hall with cavernous ceilings, balcony, and cushioned seats. [Read More]
Upstream with a Clatsop canoe
“It was shocking, surreal, and disturbing to me personally to see a member of my family, Chief Coboway, being referred to as a member of another tribe with no mention of the Clatsop tribe he belonged to,” writes Stowe. “The entire tribe is very unhappy with this effort to erase our tribal heritage, and is determined to put an end to this misinformation and get the true story published.”
A visitor at The Confessional
I was in bed last night, reading a book I bought from this teeny little bookstore I couldn’t remember the name of, despite having just been there hours before. As I was doing this, a little card fell out. Jupiter’s Rare & Used Books, right! That place. And I was thinking how badly I would rather be there than here (Vancouver, WA) at the moment.