The Mirror

hand on mirrorI stand looking in the mirror. I don’t often visit myself in such a way. I like a conjured image of myself, better. The me in my mind’s eye is wiser, kinder (and not so wrinkled). No wonder I prefer it.

No wonder that I need to hold myself still before an honest mirror on occasion. Honesty is the admission price for insight and growth. It is the foundation stone for relationship – else, how is a connection made – and with whom? Yet, it takes a funny kind of courage to stand here – to really look.

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Home for the Holidays

sepia-toned photo of christmas treeI have been trying to fix in my head an image of what “home for the holidays” means to me.   It’s pretty easy to remember what it meant for me as a child. I have lots of sepia-toned memories — you know the ones that have been pushed so far away by time that they are more memories of memories now. Continue reading