Tag: personal history
Endings and Beginnings
In 1984, we formed a book group in Basking Ridge, NJ with 6 other couples. Our first book was George Orwell’s 1984. We met monthly (with few exceptions) for the next 32 years discussing a diverse mixture of books: fiction and non-fiction, simple and complex, light and heavy, funny and sad, uplifting and depressing. Each book gave us an opportunity to share our thoughts and feelings and to get to know each other on a Read More
Wonder and Wondering
In 1968, I met Stephen Williams at Fort Holabird, Maryland, where we were both enrolled in Army Spy School.
A Tribute to Old Friends and New
There’s a comfort in old friends. It’s a warm, easy comfort that is somehow different from the new. There’s no posing, pretending, or pandering. There’s no need for anything other than relaxing in the joy of connection and in being who you are. There is no fooling an old friend. There is a fullness and richness in conversations with old friends. The long histories and specific details of trials, triumphs, and tribulations enrich the re-telling Read More
Making Love
Don’t get excited. This is not a sex post or a guide to more exciting intercourse. Although I am a fan of great sex, this post deals with making love to life – in simple, everyday ways that don’t require expensive props or bundles of money. It’s simply an attitude and a choice. I should preface this post by saying that I was a participant in the “Make Love, Not War” movement in the 60s. Read More
Freedom
It’s a terrible feeling and a freeing experience to have your illusions destroyed. As I walked down the streets of Saigon and watched the army trucks full of terrified, tough kids purposely drive through mud puddles so that they could laugh gleefully as the brown, polluted water splashed randomly on the elegant, white, long dresses of the beautiful Vietnamese women I knew my view of the world had been irrevocably shaken. In the name of Read More
Being at Home in the Universe
An Internal Space or an External Refuge At my older daughter’s wedding, she sang the song, “Feels Like Home to Me” to her husband. It struck me that we are all searching for a sense of home in our lives and I was so grateful that she had found a man with whom she felt at home. Her beautiful voice filled the reception hall and my hope for everyone there was that they felt, in Read More