Grief is a sacred journey

Psychology and Mythology

Precious Transformation: Monarch Butterflies, Mystery, and Mythology

118 When I wake up each morning, I head for the back porch to check the Monarch nursery. First thing. Who will hatch today? Does anyone need a fresh milkweed leaf? Who became a chrysalis overnight? I

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Life Is Sweeter When We Keep Old Friendships Strong

94 100 June 2018 was “Friends Matter Month” in my quiet world. Usually, I crave silence and ample sleep and avoid large servings of chocolate cake and beer. I tossed the rules overboard in a friendship love

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My Friend Meniere: Standing Up To Disability

84 1 It’s a stretch to call us friends. Meniere is an alien living in me, a shadow, a twin joined at the inner ear. She showed up in the 1990s with a pop in my right

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Mothering Our Abandoned Longing

159 1 “Do you ask her how she is?” my therapist asked. “Not unless she acts out,” I said. “I try to ignore her depression.” “How old is she?” We’ve talked about this many times, but she

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An Owl, a Dream, and a Mystery

87 2 A few nights after arriving in Arizona to visit Dotty and her family, I had a dream: I walk up a steep hill with Dotty. I’m looking for a safe place to release a large

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Love Notes: The Magic That Made Our Marriage Work

261 During an exhausting week of moving my husband Vic’s 102-year-old mother to a nursing home, I searched through an old file cabinet looking for a paper needed to fill out her insurance forms. I hadn’t visited

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Lessons from Artemis, Goddess of the Wild

166 4 I was once an extroverted girl who loved loud Motown concerts and learned every dance on American Bandstand. I liked singing, acting, and jiving with friends, my husband, and our sons. I loved concerts, opera,

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9 Ways to Unpack a Powerful Dream

129 5 In my dream, my house is filled with noisy demanding people. Six orangutans lie in the middle of the wood floor. One lies on her back, wet and gooey as though she’s just given birth.

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When Heartbreak Becomes A Second Chance

226 I didn’t want a second chance. I liked my first option, the married life I’d worked on and loved for forty years. My husband Vic and I called our relationship “the Path of Marriage.” In 1967,

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Mothering Monarchs, Mothering My Soul

249 13   I carry the glass jar outside to a shady patch of white asters. The earth smells musty and moist in rising heat. Too hot for late September, plus a south wind when the butterfly

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