things I can never find when I'm looking for them

 stapler

scissors 

the right size bandaid

the thing for the thing

form I need in my glove compartment to show the guy or buy the replacement

exact page in the car owner's manual to fix it or understand it

social security card

other charger

good hand warmers

readers

freezie guy

my son's vaccine records

the name of that song I love so much

or movie

or actor

or thing that happened in the 80s

word document

email I need 

thing that attaches to the rug cleaner or vacuum 

paper to write down the phone number (confirmation number) you are giving me

instructions 

house repair paperwork/records

someone's business card that I desperately need, that would solve everything 

my son's dorm address

receipt for the

a reliable handyman

that old perfect tee shirt I used to love that I probably gave to Savers before I realized how good it was

Cerave hand stuff 

instructions for the thing that keeps breaking and I keep forgetting how to fix

the thing that was just right in front of me

the thought I was just about to tell you

community vegetarian dinners nearby

neighbors I can hang out with or at the very least talk to

vegetarian restaurant

sleep

50+ yoga class for idiopathically mobility restricted people who grieve their super limber old bodies

some kind of any kind of doctor or any kind of anyone who can fix it

the perfect comeback

my new best friend

my new community 

my new life

new therapist

friends from childhood

any trace of the hippie alternative school I went to as a kid

my memories

my dreams

the best day of my life

my infant son who is now 19 but still just one more day would be nice

old voice mails

the perfect anything

that bouncy neon cat toy that will occupy them for at least a short while

patience

poem I want to share with students and everyone

proof

the proof I said I had, 

said i wrote down

that elusive text that disappeared,

always disappears

myself before 2017

myself in general

my better slippers

a place in MN to go where I haven't been that's better than the North Shore

whatever it is I think I'm missing

time

more time

a longer day

foreverness

reread your old writing and root for yourself again (and again) which is why you wrote it down in the first place even if you didn't know it

 I just found a poem I posted 9 years ago on another blog that I forgot about and it made me cry and be happy and grateful I wrote it down because I was there for me. And now here for me there, then, now.  You may not appreciate it when you write it, you may think it's bad or clunky or pretentious or whatever... but it is you and you wrote it down for you (and you may as well love it because what else ultimately, i mean what's the alternative?)  and someday, yearsdays away, like the words I'm writing now, you will come across it on some vague Wednesday afternoon and be so endeared to it you'll want to step between the lines of time and give yourself a hug.  

I Remember How Ice Skating is Like This 

and now walking is like this

skidding and gripping and slipping and cramping all cartoon like and

reaching for the wall

for relief
for safe harbor
for gratitude

to rest (oh thank god I can stay here forever i don't have to skate anymore i hate this i want off  these skates make my feet fall in all funny and what's wrong with me that's not how Lisa's skating, but Lisa has a skating skirt so that must be why, but fuck it, my feet are falling into themselves and I am going to fall and break my head and my ankles and my calves feel like shishkabob and please let me just hang on this wall forever until it's time to go or better yet let's slide skate all the way to the open part and crawl on the wet felt neon blackbluered floor until you realize hey I can take these things off hallelujah!)

and i look for the wall on dry land
my good leg leading the way, a loyal dog
until we reach the counter, the wall, the doorknob...
only now the wall gets hot and burns up and so do the canes
and we all go down: canes, good leg, bad leg, me
sacrificed on the pick

and now walking is like this

and I worship my good leg and
I worship my two canes, one silver, one copper, mismatched in girth and height who
I've grown to love like letters of the alphabet

who I miss dearly and long for when they are out of sight or reach

because without them I am ice skating

and now walking is like this

it hit me hard today, again and again, over and over, clear as winter morning

and now walking is like this

Give Yourself Something to WRITE ABOUT this All Hallow's Eve!

Happy Evey Halloweeney, Writers!   🎃

Dressing up? Why not?  Probably for the same reason I didn't dress up as requested by my tap dance teacher on Tuesday eve: huh?  

But then when I showed up dressed as a wannabe tap dancer amidst a chorus line of humbling classmates dressed up as The Micky Mouse Club, mechanics, jailbirds, butterflies, not sure, who knows, Winnie-the-Pooh, grizzly bear, (I think or maybe she was just wearing brown) and the Fonz (I think?), I felt guilty. 

Look how delightful this is! I realized. Look at all this happy! At least you could've put on your ears! Aren't you always saying you wish you had ears on top of your head? Well... now you lost your chance!  

Learn from my mistake! Dress up!  Dress as your favorite author, character, alter ego, cyberyou, kid you, older you, teen you, college you, emoticon (you/other), the hero you of your memoir, your fantasy self, your fantasy, your favorite food, the weather, what you wanted to be growing up, what you dressed up for Halloween as a kid, a baby, your mom, singer, poet, someone sung about in the lyric of a song… or the unsung someone…. something or someone you love, your pen, your imagination, the end, your other half, your pet… Am I having fun yet?   Anyway,  perhaps? 

🤹🏼‍♂️    🧙 🎃     🎃        🎃     🎃    🎃   🤠   🎃      🎃         🎃 🎃  🐯  🐔  🦀        🍋🤸‍♀️🏄🏾‍♂️      🎃 

Live a different story today, be someone different, give yourself a break from being you.... do something different... and then... come home and write about it! 

Of course...if this is too much...these could be prompts, naturally…. write from the POV of the above... treasure! Juice! Enjoy! 🧡

Need a Memoir Tune-Up? I Do!

 Aloha Haloha Writers! Feeling spontaneous? 

Ready to play with words and shake em all up? Time to get back to your memoir? Your vitality? Write with me!  My  peti-memoir (now, that's fun! Peti-moir?) Anyway... my 3 class series starts this Thursday Oct 16 @ 10:30-12:30.  Hop on Zoom and meet me on the page! 💙

Writing Your Memoir Now (It's Not Too Late!)

You've probably thought to yourself or have had others tell you that you “have to" write your memoir, which sounded like a great idea at the time, but you still haven’t gotten around to it. Is now the time? Starting or revisiting your memoir—whether it is a 6-word memoir, personal essay, article, or book length project—can be challenging and intimidating. This class introduces you to a simple, stress-free way to get going and keep going, with vital prompts to create a memoir plan for the process and practice to engage your authentic voice.

Register: 

https://slp.ce.eleyo.com/course/9267/adult-enrichment-2025-2026/writing-your-memoir-now-it-s-not-too-late

what I meant to post a long time ago, but it was stuck in my draft box: telling stories to get them back

 Today in Friday Writers one of my longtime (on and on I could go) students put into words what so much of this writing together is all about. In our first round of writing, she mentioned something difficult she was going through and during our "response write" another student wrote about something similar that a friend of hers was going through and all the success and support they had found further along the story than the first student. After that round, H thanked her for her story, adding, more or less that "this is why I tell this story to as many people as I can... in hopes of getting stories in return." 

Exactly that. Stories are the human currency we need to survive. You would never know it from it’s glossy and inviting surface, but the business of writing misses the point and has done a disservice to writers everywhere, creating a narrative that only "writerly writers, capital W writers, so-and-so writers " are worthy of having their stories bound and heard, that being heard is a privilege,  something one must earn before going public (publishing), only to be edited, cut short, polished the life out of before being a good enough story to put out there for the world to criticize (what we’ve grown to expect in the narrative created by paid and polished critics). I could at length argue the benefit of critics and publishing and all the good it has done—it’s more of a both/and—but the industry has come at the cost of missing out on countless of the stories we humans need to hear. The truth is, stories of any kind told in any way (written, danced, told, sang, painted, etc) by anywhom, detached from the commodities they all too often aspire to become, are the best gifts we can give each other, whole heart offerings etched in pen (etc) to lay on humanity's altar. 

Writing is what happens next

Dear Writers Everywhere and Everyhere Eternal,

Keep writing. Keep sharing your written gifts. We are collectively writing the human story and those who are heart hungry will go looking for it and drink it in. It matters! 

Write to remember. 

Write to offer. 

Write to receive. 

Write to be where you are, as you are.

Write to stay.

Write to grieve. 

Write to rejoice.

Write because it’s what you do and what you are.

Write as an act of love. 

Writing is your friend. 

Writing is peace.

Write where you belong is write where you belong. ⭐️

Happy Thanksgiving! Don't forget to thank your pens, your hands, your unique and familiar penmanship, your blank page and all the love you give it.

Let us remember that we are dear to one another. To ourselves. To this world. A wild and bright constellation of our stories connecting word-by-star, forever being written across the sky. Like the Sky Writing that made you so happy as a child !  💗

All hearts reaching: what I love about writing with you

 Every time we write and share together I am encouraged to witness the immediate palpable empathy that kicks in when you read your writing; from word one, we are rooting for you: we want you to get through this, we want to tell you to keep going, you can do it. No matter how big or small, we want you to go after and get the thing you are wanting, whether it is a trip to the east coast, a new puppy, allowing your grief and joy full expression, finding moments of peace amidst your grieving, getting there on time, finding the perfect pair of shoes, finding the courage to do or say the thing—whatever—and we will be listening along the way, through the obstacles, the inner and outer conflict. 

Despite everything wrong with our insane world and the wtf inexplicable ways of humans or the apathetic people we fear that we too have become and the moments we just want to give up, when I listen to you read, I know our empathy is still in check, going strong. As you read, we let all the insanity go and return to the present moment. We morph with you, becoming one with you as you read, grieving beside you, celebrating, feeling the warmth of a sunny day on our backs, marveling at the sprouts emerging in your garden, the excitement and uncertainty in the car with you on a long road trip to somewhere we've never seen, yet feel for certain we've been as much as we know you'll eventually get there; in one way or another, you'll arrive back home. We know it like we know that all told, we care deeply for ourselves and one another and we know we are not alone. 

It happens every time. 

What are you doing right now?

 Listening to the cat fountain and thinking about the waterfalls just outside of Grand Marais? Texting? Shopping for new kitchen towels? Watching the leaves change? Running errands? Dancing? Petting the cat? Taking your blood pressure?

How many things are you doing right now? Double..? Triple...? 

And what helpful thing(s) does that tell you about yourself as a writer? 

Of course there's no right or wrong, no bad or good. No one's in trouble. These are just the everyday, honest, raw, relatable details that sing! 

Show me the way to go home

 Today we wrote some favorite song lyrics and from there wrote memories, intuitive writing, etc, associated with those lyrics. I say "some" because we couldn't possibly get to them all; they breed and they're elusive. Still, a lyrical warm up into deeper writing, which lead to, naming a very few:

singing in the car (or not)

singing at camp

singing in the kitchen

forlorn

Madonna

memory loss

love of grunge (who knew?)

Brazil

deathbeds 

Kool Aid

just like yesterday

John Denver

picnics

old tapes

mixed tapes

you say hello

goodbye yellow brick road

I'm still standing

singing for peace

all versions of home and longing to leave and get back there

Dolphins

 Who knew there was so much to write about dolphins? Who knew that some of us are dolphins? Do you remember Dolphin Shorts? We didn't write about those, but we sure could have. 

Watch it Shimmy

 Today we wrote about Jell-O.

Losing Control

 We wrote about that today, especially losing control of our bodies, and how hard that can be when having  to go out in public out of control

we could all relate to that one

There's more, but that's enough

Happy Halloweeeeen! Prompts

 Happy Halloween! Why does that tickle the tummy? Must be all those eeeees. Something instantly wonderful about that. That's my instant bliss: e's in a row. You?

Today we wrote about: (naming a few)

candy

costumes

being bad

bad influences

Stealing

Fire pits

KFC

Being that house on Halloween

seeing loved ones age and decline

the thing someone said or did that cut off your innocence/life force when you were a kid

cats

confessions

kids (you, yours, in general)

how hard it is not to clip their wings 

do I dress up as a warm mom or a cat?

Today we wrote about

walking alone 

(and walking alone for the first time)                                                                                                                   pumpkin spice water

neighbors stopping by

witch costumes

shaking

carnivals

that one little thing that makes you happy

everything

                            ...

It's Fall, Writers! Prompts abound! Infinitely so! Every word has a story!

Come write, share your writing, be writing, read to us, read to yourself, read to others...Writing is your friend! Writing is love! 🧡

How is your getting together going?

 All to soon, we will look back and remember on these reunion-ing times by the narrative we'll use to describe them and leave it at that: 

"Sweet. Overwhelming. Quenching. Confusing. Amazing. Like it's 1999. Underwhelming. Exhausting....etc etc."

But how is it going right now? On the inside, intimate experience of this unprecedented time? What are the details for you? The teeny tiny details? Are you still crossing the street on your walks? Are you judging?  What did it feel like to unmask at Target? Go to your friend's house again? Gather with others? Has hugging changed? What is it really like for you? What are your post lockdown getting together stories?

For history, for human evolution, for you and your people, all people, you'll want to remember. You'll want to be the voice that's there for you when you forget and you get lost and swept up and feel a little disconnected from the dominating vernacular and narrative written and spoken in hindsight. 

Write your truth, here, now, for you. For the record. 

You might disagree with it, all those years later. You might be grateful. But there it will stand, in writing, a map from where you've come. 

LockDOWNstairs day 22

 Remodeling always takes longer than planned. Longer than they say. Longer than the promise our  confidence grants in the rosy beginning, all eyes on the finish line. I ought know this by now, all the nights I've spent sleeping on the floor for whatever reason, whether by necessity, choice, or in the Bardo, waiting and remembering, of two worlds, but not quite this one.

The good news is that it has yielded some great prompts about sleeping on the floor... so many places across the ages: the barn loft at Camp Bar 717, the plush wine-pink carpeted floor at CC's—my French nextdoor neighbor growing up—in my Smokey the Bear sleeping bag, at the foot of my brother's bed when Ma was out too late, beneath stars, beneath rain, wide awake, through an earthquake, beneath the unfamiliar ceilings of friends and lovers all only writing can help me remember. 

The best news and happy ending (or unexpected twist if we're talking writing) is that it dawns on me just now, at day 23, how comfortable I've become sleeping on the floor. How easy it is to get up and down. How quickly I fall asleep and how ready I am to rise. Like so many things in the every day details, another reminder that so much life is to be found where and when you least expect it.

So try writing about all the places/times you've slept on the floor. Or sleep on the floor and write about it. Or both. The point is, do both.

WWRW—Be also proud of what language you didn't learn and other Pandemica* you planned to do but didn't

 *Spare-time accomplishments during the Pandemic

One of the great prompts to come out of Wednesday Writers today was "Things I meant to do during the pandemic, but didn't."  We ran out of time to write it, though I can't wait to write it and see what happens!

I might just discover it's ok that I didn't:

Learn German

Start Learning German

Call everyone I know to check in

Write everyone I know to check in (but does this count?)

Follow through on teaching my son to juggle 

Paint a mural in the group room

(Yet) Clear my table in the group room

Watch Spanish soap operas in Spanish

Blog everyday 

Write back

Call back

That damn closet upstairs

Finish painting the upstairs walls

Give up sugar

Make hand-made cards

Submit writing

Start another writing group

Memorize the Hanuman Chalisa 

Om every day

Learn valuable new skills by choice (not by necessity)

Attempt fixing the upstairs burner on the stove

Caulk (man, why does that very word incite so much ire?)

Develop a webinar

Write more lists like this

you might

want to write

about this

Movie review of your life

 Hello Writers!

It has been fun to remember some favorite writing prompts I did in high school, many of which keep on giving to this day. One of them, offered by my awesome journalism teacher, Montsy,  was to "write a movie review of your life." Who would play you (Jo from Facts of Life)? Where would it take place (LA; at the beach, mostly)? What would the main conflict be (hmmm....who am I?)  Who was the antagonist (er.... my brother?)? What was the soundtrack (Led Zeppelin, of course)?  Supporting characters? How do you most change? What does it take to change? On and on... you could play and play with this one. 

What makes it especially cool is how much you'll discover by taking liberties with direction, scenes, sunset shots, long shots, cut scenes, director's cuts, close-ups, and of course good for dialogue, main scenes, music,  lighting, tone, costumes, "bad scenes," 'famous scenes," praise and critical analysis, etc. You could compare it to other reviewers, who would say it much differently, and other movies for that matter. Be fair and give praise! A very generous prompt.

I loved it then and I've been wanting to do it again ever since. A great way to get inside and outside yourself to remember or expand upon a particular time and situation. You could try writing one of your entire life, your childhood, or just for a day or an afternoon. It's just a wild prism of cool and creative in every which way. So have fun with it! Be into it. Because if you're not, who's really writing your words? Who's telling your story? Who's in charge? 

Garden Greens

Hello Writers! Boy, I could tell you stories about the garden, the greens,  the grass, the grape leaves, the baby bunnies beneath the arugula, the heart shaped leaf faces, banners of foliage, the bowls of fresh greens I miss eating with Ma at Crispin Green, the wilting Romaine, the purple flowering mint, the heat of the pepper greens that are much hotter than the ones we buy so what are we doing wrong?, the many kinds of basil, the Japanese pine tree my friend brought over for my 50th birthday, the limp, unloved salads at Panera during my lunches with my friend Katie that I also miss, mint hill, Buddha Park beneath the volunteer mulberry tree, the ambling Maple, the moss, the moss, the moss... oh, how I love the moss and wish for a whole plague of it to take over the entire lawn until it's another planet 

and the round, green, labyrinth, word I can never spell, that we walk over and over in and out to lengthen and unwind the green days as though it will somehow help us take it back again, like the past, when all the green is gone

Turns out

Green is Good Prompt

So are Sprinklers

I feel so much better now and I hope you will too after you write about green, garden greens 💚