• Wooden swing hung from two tall trees in the woods,
    Whisperings in the Trees

    Timid Thunder

    Looking back, I understand that I was given several warnings that my life was going to change in every way. In a series of dreams that lasted over a one year, I remembered being a young Native American woman mated to a warrior for the tribe. I had flashbacks of being in the mountains in the southern USA, standing on a cliff overlooking more woods and hills, saying farewell to him. In other dreams I heard a voice telling me that my name is Timid Thunder. Sometimes I remembered climbing up the side of a steep hill grabbing rocks with my bare hands, trying to escape from something. Whoever she…

  • Toddler girl picking daffodils.
    Whisperings in the Trees

    Having A Purpose

    I had a creative writing professor in college who had one rule for our class assignments. I have tried to abide by it but honestly, it is a tough one. He stood at the head of the classroom, gazing out at our young faces and said, “Absolutely never, ever start any story with ‘I was born’”. So many times, that’s exactly my first line. I have to cross it out and start over. I Am Here Instead of being born once, I think, based on the fact that I’m getting older, that we are born every time we choose something new to learn. That’s what it’s like to be a…

  • Beatrice Wood
    Journey Through the Past

    The Inspirational Bohemian Woman I’ll Never Know, Beatrice Wood

    From the first chapter, I was transported backwards by 100 years to find a woman with the spunk and courage to show me how to live today. I don’t recall where I got the nudge to purchase Beatrice Wood’s autobiography, “I Shock Myself”, but once starting to read the book, I feel unfortunate I will never know her. Beatrice Wood lived to be 105 years old. In 1912 she left her luxurious life as the daughter of a wealthy family at the age of 19 to live as a bohemian. Beatrice left New York City for Paris to become an artist. That same year, my great grandfather brought his wife…

  • Woman wearing headband talking on a pay phone
    Journey Through the Past

    I Am The Warrior

    The rule was simple. When you left home, you didn’t return. It was now five years later. I knew the answer would be no. The year was 1981. Everything I owned fit into my 1971 Toyota Corolla, including a cedar hope chest and my cat with seven toes on each paw, Abby Normal. I was homeless, jobless, alone and had just driven from Ocean City, NJ to a phone booth in Pennsylvania. There was a small white church in the town I drove to, situated along the Delaware River on the “Pennsy Side” as we used to say. A short drive north would have led me to the Frenchtown bridge…

  • Jordan and Arielle when they eloped.
    Whisperings in the Trees

    When Beginnings Are Endings and Endings are Beginnings

    Maybe it’s my age. I remember the thump in my heart the day I learned my daughter eloped. She was the happiest I’ve ever known her to be. She and her new husband drove up our long driveway in his truck for a surprise visit. I was out by the barn and glancing up at them saw my daughter yelling something. She was so excited. It’s a blur after that. They had eloped. It happened a few days before under a veil of secrecy. Even from me. First thump felt. They told their story. The why and where. How. When we got the pictures that were taken later of them…

  • Whisperings in the Trees


    It’s easy to stop caring. It’s easy to make assumptions. Easy to pass judgement. Easy to dismiss what we dislike, even if we dislike something without knowing the facts or considering the motivation for that choice. It’s easy to get away with bullying, violence, bigotry, hatred and arrogance and far, far more difficult to live with integrity. Forgiveness? That is the hardest choice of all. It is also taught by the person some claim was sent here by God to save humanity. In New Testament stories, Jesus was a builder. Regardless of what He was building, whether it was physical or theory or guideline, it was intended to work for…

  • Manny and Kim talking by the round pen.
    Journey Through the Past

    The Horse That Sold Real Estate

    We thought we were at the right place, but a retired racehorse named Germaniac had different plans for us. One moment it was the spring of 2014 and we were moving into a brand new house with colors we picked and shiny new appliance packages with those yellow energy savings stickers slapped onto them. Three years later we rented it out and moved into a historic stone farmhouse built in 1865, with an even older barn and one stall deemed, “It might be safe for a horse.” Turning For Us I met Kate Goldenberg when I was 10 years old, and she was 14. Our families had purchased properties next to…

  • Kim's shadow on a country road.
    Journey Through the Past

    When Real People Stand Still

    I saw a picture of books laid out on a table in the way that bookstores do to promote latest releases or specific subjects. All the books on the table in the photo were banned by schools. I saw the picture as I was speeding by a social website. I no longer recall where. I don’t really care about the new social. It stopped being social when the value we put on caring for people stopped. The caring people created private groups where caring people can care about people. Imagine having to hide caring from the public. I remember a man who stood in front of thousands of people to…

  • One of the macrame headbands I made.
    Journey Through the Past

    I Was Sprinkled with Hippie Dust

    I was 11 years old when Woodstock happened in the summer of 1969. Now in the summer of 2014 I am still a hippie who misses not wearing a bra and songs containing full sentences. If you have ever ridden a horse with no bra, you know the risks I took. I knew the hippies would fail and become the very same people they despised, because for starters they came from a different dimension. Science and energy workers tell us there is no such thing as Time. In fact, everything is math. The equations are insane unless you are my Dad, who knows what they are. For me, all I…

  • Native American inspired macrame hanging on wall
    Journey Through the Past

    Chapter 59

    “Once we have the awareness to see our own story, we discover there is another way of creating the main character.” I’ve tried on three occasions to be hypnotized. It doesn’t work. I analyze every sound and each picture that appears inside my mind is filed away as fantasy. It is two days before I turn 59 years old and a week since I visited my hypnotherapist friend. My story fantasy has always been an utter and complete dedication to remaining 21 and when that proved to be ridiculous, 35 seemed like the perfect stopping point. My knees worked well then. Arthritis was something my mother and grandmother dealt with.…