Blog Archive

In today’s installment of what’s beautiful, I only first found what was broken, until I caught a fleeting glimpse of what laid beneath. My son’s hair a rat’s nest, but shining through were those mischievous chocolate eyes. My daughter sitting on the car seat, a tired and irritable mess of not wanting to go to camp, and crumbs stuck to the back of ripped leggings because she had saved her cookie just for me. Today’s hot yoga was a dusty mat and a space heater in my

“You awake? :)))” “Yes!” “Do you have the energy for me to unload some of my crazy on you? :)))” “Yes!” And so our text exchange began, the type of long drawn out texting that unfolds late at night, when there is so much to release, and kids’ perky ears still awake and within earshot.  The types of text conversations that you can only have with dear friends who will respond to the 11 pm pings and whistles, happily and without hesitation. On this particular night, my neurosis

In a different life, I took scalpel to skin, cut through fibrous layers of muscle and fascia to the very deepest core of our biology, in bodies dead and alive. I have held a heart in my own hand, felt its indescribable pulsating power. I have witnessed the first cries of a baby being born, and in the next room, heard the last extinguishing breath, the final rattle sigh, as I watched the spirit of death sweep through the spaces between us. All of it, every singula

For the most part, I have always considered it a good thing to “hustle.”  The very word conjures up images of burning the midnight lamp, working through and around obstacles, and rising to the top one hard earned step at a time.  I think of my parents, physician immigrants from India, who had to re-do their training in the United States and prove their knowledge and worthiness in order to make it in this country.  I think of years of education, stressful exams, and long hours

We could wait for a thousand days and nights, a lifetime really, to be given the green light. The sign that we are good enough to try, to shine, to be out there in the world. Showing up exactly as we are without lowering our voices or keeping ourselves small. We could wait for eternities to be perfect enough for the approval and love of others while slowly withering inside. Who are these chosen ones who can grant the rest of us permission? Where do they live