Category: Angst


Stories that get mixed up, that feel out of place, that confuzzle the soul.

One Good Word for 2020: Cry

The Word for 2020 might be cry

For Karen, The Harbinger But baby I’ve been here before, I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya And I’ve seen your flag on the Marble Arch And love is not a victory march It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah Here…

Always Running Away

Carry the World Kids Artwork Running Away with the World

We are all, always running away. I think at some point we have to accept that some people are not meant to stay still. They are always running away. But then again, who doesn’t? Why don’t we do it more? Just like we have to accept that some people don’t want children. Some people play…

What is Waiting for Us In the Afterlife

The Existential afterlife

I had 30 minutes in the car yesterday to think about what is waiting for us in the afterlife. It just so happens we were on the way to church. The kids traditionally read their books while we drive, but there was no “we” this weekend. Colin was out of town. So I had some…

Make LOVE the word of the year for 2019

Love Chairs in Chincoteague

(and make it an action word) 2018 was pretty rough right? I’m not down for resolutions… and even though a Burning Bowl ceremony sounds pretty cool, that’s not my bag either. For 2019, I feel like there’s only one answer and it’s this: commit to every day, wild, active, radical LOVE. What is Radical Love?…

Word of the Year 2018: Move

Lees Summit West HS Art Contest You are here

If I had chosen a word for the year in 2018, it would have been the word “move”. As in, after 11 years, I finally made a MOVE again– BIG TIME, half way across the country, packing up a four bedroom house and a family and a life — and this time back to a…

Every Time I Think I’m Home

every time I think I'm home

If I left somewhat suddenly (after 11 years) or you were surprised, then I think maybe you weren’t paying attention. Every time I think I’m home, something changes my mind. Maybe it’s the porch or its the lack of the porch. Maybe it’s the wide open spaces, or the bats and the trees. There were…

That’s Not Me

Don't type Angry - that's not me

In reading the pile of reports the school sent over regarding my youngest child, I thought: that’s not me. On every occasion in parenting, I am reminding how very few people I encounter — whether as friends or acquaintances — who really understand me. They do exist, and they are ridiculously loyal. But the by…

The baby in the fire

rohingya baby fire

All weekend I keep thinking about the Rohingya baby in the fire. (And so this is Christmas. And what have you done?) The New York Times correspondant Jeffrey Gettleman reported on the violence and likely genocide of the Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar. In one account he reported a Rohingya mother, Rajuma, whose baby was ripped…

I can only be myself

Existential Angst bubble

Adoptive kids have a special layer of wonder in their lives. Why am I in this family? How did this happen to me? Who am I really? What might have been? This special layer of wonder undoubtedly will shape them and their life direction, as all mental efforts do. But as I worry this thread a…

How to Love a Day Like Today

Love Light Love Letter Las Vegas Shooting

In the face of the senseless Las Vegas shooting, how do we get through a day like today? I felt frozen most of the day, the horror buttressed by the president’s hypocritical and milquetoast response. How do I get through a day in which the acid undercurrent of anger and instability that has been pouring…

On Being Called an Idiot

Stupid idiot shenpa

It’s a perfectly lovely, breezy day, and I’m walking my daughter to school and taking the dog for a stroll. Conversation surrounds whether the dog minds being on a leash and “Dogs have feelings too mom!” I’m feeling general anxiety I haven’t felt in weeks, frustration that ebbs over the general state of the world…

Let Me Be a Jellyfish

Let me be a Jellyfish

Let me be a jellyfish Brainless and glowing My beauty innate– Unquestionable, even, Since I’ve no amygdala for Shouting orders, no hippocampus Busily collecting Potential threats. Let me be a jellyfish, One of a tribe of Transluscent pancakes Mindlessly ganged around Jews cutting the Red Sea waves or Rubber-tubed tourists — Either way.

All the Original Everything

Twins and Poetry All the Original Everything

All the original everything has Rolled out the factory. The Whatsits and Whosees along with Their two point oh children Now retired to a retail museum. Wait awhile: won’t be long ’til The oily new marketing rep Sells the idea: it’s time to reinvent you. Latin is dead. Long live the King Of Romance, the…

You see a light & then another

Tragically Hip in Concert 2015

You started not to like me. At first you thought: It’s not him. It’s me. It’s the Chemo, the kids, the stress, my weight. Drugs ended. Hair grew back. Boobs rebuilt. Life leveled as Kids reached an easy age And yet you Couldn’t shake feeling that I’d Turned on you. One time I toured then Didn’t come home.…

An Ode to Frida, on a Monday


Across the Gulf from La Casa Azul, this Monday Late morning I am thinking of you, Frida. My sister’s just called and We Facetimed, her lying flat on her Back on her bed, phone in midair Me slurping lukewarm coffee in my Second cousin-in-law’s second home and the chatter Echoes off textured walls until we…