In the summer months, they crowd the waiting area where I get my hair trimmed. They are filled with laughter and secrets and a great deal of joy.
When I see them, I know immediately that they are either bachelorettes out for a day of primping and camaraderie or they’re getting ready for a wedding that’s about to happen.
My college degree was not what I thought it would be. It didn’t prepare me for life. But what it gave me was this: it taught me how to learn. It made me a lifelong student.
A friend of mine is limping into his 60s with a sense of loss. Loss of youth, energy and significance. I understand all of that and believe that most of us go through a passage where we grieve the younger life we’ve left behind.
The television screen shows a young couple, strolling down a city street, holding hands. When they arrive at the steps of the woman’s brownstone, the man hesitates as if he wants to move in for a kiss.
As the end of the year approaches, I begin to putter around in closets and cabinets, donating those things that I am not using. I enjoy simplicity and orderliness. But it’s not just the cabinets and drawers that deserve attention, it’s the stressful things in our psyche that we should be willing to give up.
I know J.K. Rowling’s story by heart – the young, impoverished single mother who stayed true to her writing dream in the face of a failed marriage and what she saw as a failed career choice. The urgency of her situation turned her desire to write novels into a fierce fidelity, which birthed Harry Potter.