MEANINGMAKER

storytelling

  • a gift in the cold

    Can we just talk about how the rain froze on the windshield this morning for a minute? Like a tiny murmuration of starlings – that breathtaking, swirling ballet you sometimes see those delicate birds perform by the hundreds in the… Continue reading

  • sunday school

    “I guess I feel that we should remember the deep emotions that prompt the urge to marry the next time we hear that marriage needs to be defended against people who want to participate in it. The last thing any marriage needs… Continue reading

  • the mathematics of me

    Twice in the last week, I’ve dreamed of the Fibonacci sequence. I don’t remember either dream – only that in the second dream, I kept reminding myself that I had to remember those words when I woke up. Of course,… Continue reading

  • the second coming

    I am a mother. A wife. A daughter. The weight of love. The truth once buried beneath duty. The heart that has wondered if love is enough. I am all wonder, whimsy, magic, and therapy. The unshaken certainty that even… Continue reading

  • creative writing class

    If we taught the five love languages in school like we teach French or German. If we learned in Kindergarten that the true measure of a life well-lived isn’t in our grand accomplishments, but in the small courageous acts of… Continue reading

  • awake on the train

    I left the train this morning one stop before City Hall, where I would usually get off —something I do on the mornings when I want a short walk to clear my head before work. I’m usually a stander on… Continue reading

  • the secret to a good life

    In the last week of my life, I hope that my front door sees a steady parade of people who love me and, knowing that I don’t have much time left, they show up bearing cheeseburgers and chicken nuggets and… Continue reading

  • the gift

    Thirteen years ago, on March 28, I left my City Hall job for my first day at a large, international corporation, working in Communications. Every day that first week,  I worried that I wouldn’t find my way back to my… Continue reading

  • the guest book

    In the basement this afternoon, looking for a paint brush, I noticed a clear plastic bin on a low shelf. What caught my eye was a snatch of colour I immediately recognized as a beautiful throw that my dad’s mom, my… Continue reading

  • the river

    The river is rolling by this afternoon. On its way, I realize, to I don’t know where. As I sit next to it, listening to its song, I wonder why it is that such a simple thing is stirring the… Continue reading