Luminations
a glimpse of my authentic life
Blog
Being Before Doing
A cosmic wild card has been played, and to the shock and surprise of most of the country, Donald Trump has been elected President of the United States. Before the election, no matter how grim things looked, I believed humanity was slowly slowly moving forward…
Quantum Physics And The Political Arena
I love quantum physics—the minuscule amount my brain can wrap itself around—because it offers confirmation of a metaphysical law I came to understand in the 1970’s, namely, where the mind goes, energy follows…
Challenge, Choice, and Chi
A decade ago I entered a competition in which I had to write a 150 word description of myself as if I were the protagonist in a novel. I was one of the winners. Here’s what it said: She saw herself as the heroine of her own literary affairs du coeurs. She’d had three husbands, an inter-dimensional relationship with…
How Not To Burrito A 17 Pound Cat
Lest you think I could in any way be referring to my cat and the kind of burrito one might eat, let me set your mind to rest. To “burrito” a cat is to wrap it tightly in a towel in order to calm it down enough to clip its nails or administer medication, which, in this case, was the reason for my attempt…
Images Of Remembered Passion
You know how it is when a passing comment by a friend triggers a thought that leads to another thought that culminates in a long forgotten memory? I had that happen to me the other day. It started with mention of an auction house here in Asheville, NC, which inspired thoughts about things of great beauty, which was enhanced…
Full Moon Story
I live in Asheville, NC, in the house of my friend Karen. I rent the downstairs. The house is on a hill, once part of a mountain I’m sure, and we’re surrounded by old trees, mostly oaks and pines, and woods in the back, which makes it almost impossible to see the moon until it’s very late at night or…
A Love Apart: No Ordinary Love Story
A Love Apart is a novel close to my heart. In its various incarnations, it took me ten years to write. I was trying to tell a story based on a deep soul connection I’d recognized decades ago with someone I’d known through many lifetimes. Yet, I couldn’t find a way to fictionalize it…
How My Mother Sent Me To The Mountain
Yesterday was the Fourth of July, a day to celebrate freedom. Here, in Asheville, NC, it poured rain for hours, the kind of hard, wide-streamed deluge that soaked the ground in seconds, flooded roads, bent fields of flowers, induced electricity to flicker dangerously close to completely shutting down. I stayed in all day, mostly reading, a little disheartened that I had not been called this week to the writer’s retreat for which I was on a cancellation list.
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