This short story is part of a chapter in my forthcoming book, “Memories of Montserrat.”
They told this story for years.
My grandparents loved entertaining. Tea parties, afternoons playing bridge, full dinners, Caribbean sunset viewings, and “Adventures in Listening” — they never missed an opportunity to gather and socialize.
Phones would ring across the island, as my grandfather would carefully watch the weather reports for a clear sky. “There’s a green flash happening tonight,” he’d tell my Nana, and she’d set up in the kitchen to bake bread, or a clafouti, or delicate finger sandwiches, after they decided to invite…
We stand in love
We walk in love
We hold hands, in love.
We don’t fall.
We play in love
We love to play
We sing in love
We write odes to love
We write love songs to love.
We don’t fall.
We gather those we love
We hug in love
We bathe in love
We bask in love
We luxuriate in love
We glow in love.
We don’t fall, in love.
We mourn the loss of love.
We cry tears of joy in love.
We leave the planet with shrouds of love.
We NEVER fall, in love.
Some of us are slow to be inspired by the muse. We resist the grok.
I stand before you enlightened.
Therefore, from this point forward, I will clap for all the articles I read on Medium, exactly 42 times.
I feel so relieved. I’ve finally figured out the purpose of Medium, why we were meant to be here on this platform, and how it all works.
It is simply this.
Clap 42 times. Earn 42 cents.
All is right in the galaxy.
Susan B. has been writing comedy for about 3 weeks.
Thanks to Smillew Rahcuef for the never-ending writing…
Yes, all the rumors are true.
MuddyUm will be hosting our first annual Comedy Camp in 2022.
MuddyUm editors and writers will get first dibs on the bunks and choice of housing. And Bootyque swag!
But if you are one of the four winners of the MWC, you might want to invest your money wisely.
Comedy Camp will be the most fun you’ll have all year. Especially when it comes to Medium-related activities.
It will be hosted in the beautiful foothills of the Catskill Mountains, the playground of Rip Van Winkle and Klezmer musician conventions. …
When a treasure is involved, pirates go all in.
We love our ship. We love this deck we stand on.
What we don’t love is being cut out of a treasure. You know how it is. You work all day, hoisting lines and swabbing decks, heaving to and weighing anchors.
All in the search of the booty.
Each one aboard this ship now has a test afore them. Bring your best skill. Bandy about together and hope for yer share of the hidden treasure.
But in this case, the treasure isn’t hidden. All you need to do is put forth…
I was listening to a podcast the other day, as I do every day. This wasn’t a TED talk though. This was “Metaphysical Milkshake,” on Luminary.
I’ll listen to most anything once, to give it a chance. But if it’s too long or too boring, I may not keep on with it.
But this one was funny, since at the end, the co-hosts had written, and were reading their obituaries.
They weren’t writing their own obituaries. They were writing an obituary for each other. They were very funny.
It inspired me to write this post. And create a writing challenge…
Inside the Garden of Neuro, which we operate as a #safeandbravespace for women, we have conversations, deliberative dialogs, inspirational Kitchen Table Talks where wisdom transfers happen between wisdom keepers and wisdom seekers.
We conduct workshops. We gather in topical circles. We read books and share learnings in book club talks. And we write and teach courses. All of this happens in this GoN space we hold. And the experience is visceral.
I was inspired to architect this space by my own experience with amazing mentorship — an experience I recognized that not everyone is blessed with.
But for those of…
When I first envisioned this space for dialog and change, some five years ago, I never dreamed it would take hold as quickly as it did, or with the broad base of women that have come so far. Ages 18 to 80, and representatives from continents all across the globe have joined us.
So when we complain about age-ism, racism, sexism, or any of the other myriad of -isms there are to worry about — I step up and say, yes, of course, we see them, they exist.
Now what are we going to DO about it?
The Garden of…
And on the strangest sea
I saw an orange sky
What could this ever be
I thought, what’s coming to mine eyes?
This surf is rough
The tide is high
The sand feels tough
against my thighs
I rest on this beach
until it passes
blues, purples, rose and peach
The people view, in masses.
This storm at sea, a massive one
soon passes like the rest
It ends as fast as its begun,
Reminds us — we are blessed.
Lisa Tomey, the Garden’s premier poetry leader, gives us a daily prompt. Even if you think you aren’t a poet…