The Real Me

The Real Me

Sunday, December 16, 2012

I wrote the following piece yesterday afternoon around 4pm, moved by the events of Friday in Newtown, CT.

Please pass it on if you find it moves you, too.

Peace and blessings to all.



This morning. 

I woke up in a cozy warm bed.  My first thoughts were of sunlight and a day to relax.

I took the dog outside.  Breathed in the crisp morning air.  Made a cup of tea.  Then I turned on the tv.  Bad mistake.

There it was.  

I turned it off.  And I continued with my day.

Decorated the living room for Christmas.  Took the dog on a long leisurely walk by the beach.  Ate a lovely salad for lunch.  Baked a cake.  Raked some leaves.

And all the while, it lingered there in my thoughts.  As I thought about all of the things that I needed to do today, that I wanted to do today, I was also aware of those things that I did not have to do today.

I did not have to plan a funeral for my six year old child.

I did not have to face a room of toys and clothing and childhood stuff left, standing still, awaiting my child’s return.

I did not have to figure out how the heck I would survive the minutes, hours, days and weeks ahead.  

And then there’s Christmas.

I, the one whose daughter is living a vibrant life in New York City, I will get to enjoy the celebrations of the minutes, hours, days and weeks ahead.  I will go to bed Christmas Eve with her here in my home, and awaken on Christmas morning to share opening stocking, gifts, and hymns at church.

And all the while, I think, no, actually, I hope, that those other thoughts will linger, too.  Not so that I can wallow in some sort of false melancholy, but so that I can appreciate all the more that which I do have.

I think it lingers in all of our minds today, even as we might not think it polite to talk about it in the midst of a party.

So the question is, what WILL we do with it?

Will we pick up and live our lives as usual?  Or will we think, once again, about how precious life is?  About how much we need to embrace the present moment? About how love is… the ONLY thing that truly matters.

I may worry about how I’m going to pay my bills.  Or whether I should paint, or make music, or write.

Worry?  really?  I have no worries today.  I live a charmed life.  And I pray, I pray every moment that I can remind myself to pray, for those families whose lives changed forever yesterday morning at 9:31 am.

God bless each and every one of them.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012


I've just re-read my last blog entry.  It was written during a particularly emotional time.  I found it tremendously healing just to write it out.

I'm finding myself reaching more and more for words, and less and less for paint.  I know that I'll come back to it, but for now, I need to give expression to the myriad of thoughts running through my head as I watch daily life unfold.  And I'm finding that others are encouraged, and made more thoughtful, in my doing so.

I've started a new performance piece, called "Reading Out Loud."  It's been a huge success, both times.  Now I need to find new venues, and ways to make it wider reaching.  Any ideas?  Please do share with me.

I had opportunity to preach a sermon in church this past Sunday.  And ended up essentially expanding a piece that I had already written for "Reading Out Loud," a piece that refers to the power of words, and names, and how we talk about, and to, one another.

Interesting - that last blog entry.  I didn't even remember it to be so, but it too refers to the power that our words have on others.  Seems to be a common thread.

The word is powerful.  Both written, and spoken.  I believe that we all need to do our best each and every day to be a voice of positive, loving encouragement to others.  There is so much negativity out there... and whining and complaining.  Let's be thoughtful in how we use our words to lift up one another, rather than to tear down.

Then, Mimi thinks to herself, "Let's have a go of this writing thing.  With God's help, I pray."


Friday, June 1, 2012


The house where I used to live is being sold.  I haven't lived there myself in over two years, but it still feels like a significant transition.  For during the past two years, more than I even realized, parts of me remained.

I was asked to paint over a mural that I'd left behind.  I did that.  And thought I had closure. But not really.  I was asked to remove items that were mine that I hadn't realized were still there.  I did that.  And thought I had closure. But not really.  I found myself being required to go back again and again and again, and every time that I pulled out of the driveway, I thought I had closure.  But not really.

So I took matters into my own hands, and asked for an opportunity for one last walk through on the very last day before the real estate closure, and was told no.  Others were suspicious that I had an ulterior motive.  That I was ... I don't even know what.  Making a play to win him back?  Wow.  Talk about misunderstanding.

Yes, I will admit to an uncontrolled desire.  But it's not what you think.  Or what he thinks.  Or what she thinks.  This desire, this thing that compels me to do things often misunderstood, is a desire to find peace even in the midst of less than peaceful, unresolved situations.

I have lost friends, and family, without warning, as so many others have.  Jay, in the car accident in 1977. My own father, by his own hand, in 1989.  No time to heal.  No time to say what should have been said.  No time to share one last loving, kind thought, to leave that relationship in a healthy place.

And I have both experienced and witnessed others wounded by harsh words.  Things that can't be taken back.  "Oh, I was just joking.  Where's your sense of humor?"  It doesn't change the sting of what's been said.  It doesn't heal the wounds.

We have a choice, every time that we open our mouth, how we use our words.  And my intention, to the best of my ability, is to offer hope.   And love.  And peace.  I'm not always successful.  And I'm sometimes painfully misunderstood.  But I try.  And try again.

My request denied, I went there on my own, in my imagination.  To that house where I lived.  And loved.  And raised my beautiful daughter for ten oh so important years of her life, of our lives.   I walked through each room.  I remembered something lovely that had happened there.  And another something.  And another something.  And I smiled.  And shed a few tears.

And then, in my imagination, I closed the door, one last time.  And pulled out of the driveway.  And found that closure that I needed.

A new family will live there soon.  And they will create their own new lovely memories.  I wish them deepest blessings for love, and joy, and peace.

And I utter a quiet prayer for the same for him.  And for her.  And for me.

Yes, really.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Tonight, I debut a brand new piece of creativity.  "READING OUT LOUD" is part performance, part writing workshop, part I don't know what else to call it!  What it is... is a series of writings that I have penned within the past year, that reflect on my own experiences of life, love, and loss.  I will read, and following each (relatively) short reading, there will be a few moments of quiet, during which time audience members are encouraged to do some writing of their own, or meditate, or whatever suits them best to process what they have just heard... perhaps as a springboard to some of their own healing, introspection, growth, creativity.  I am VERY excited!  This could be the start of a whole new venture... xoxoxo

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Something monumental happened today.  Our President spoke out, actually taking a stand, in defense of gay marriage.  No laws have been changed, nor legislation put forward.  Simply a vocal statement of support.

I know that you won't all agree with me, but I will speak my mind on this anyway.

I have never, ever understood why those who are so vehemently against this feel the need to be so.  We are talking about two individuals who want to make a lifelong commitment to one another.  Why would anyone be against that?  We are talking about allowing the same rights to two individuals who happen to be of the same gender as those rights that are allowed to individuals of a different gender.  I know, some make it an issue of religion, or Biblical literalism, but heterosexual couples get married everyday without any sense of religion between them.  Do we really believe that anatomy makes the difference of who should be allowed to love, to make that commitment of faithfulness, and who should be denied?

I don't understand it.  Really, truly.  Love is... well, love.  Pure.  Beautiful.  A gift from God.  Who am I to deny someone else the right to do so, openly, sacredly, "so long as they both shall live.?"

Friday, April 20, 2012

Hello everyone!  It's been quite a while since I've posted.  Time to get back to it.

These will be postings of whatever happens to be running through my mind at the time.  Some will be about creativity, others spirituality, and still others... well, who knows what!

If you would like to receive the updates as they are posted, you may do so either by sending me an email and asking me to include you ( or by clicking on the "subscribe to Mimi's Blog" button.

Ok... so here's my first posting!

April 20.

Whatever way you write it, the date has significant meanings in such a variety of ways.

My mother's 80th birthday is today.
Fenway Park celebrates its own 100th anniversary.
It is also the birthday of Adolf Hitler.
Which means it is also the anniversary of the Columbine school tragedy.
And, for another part of the population, 420 has a different silly meaning (you're gonna have to Google this one if you don't already know the meaning of 420 day!)

Such a variety of experiences packed into one day.

That's life, isn't it?  We have a choice, each and every day that we get out of bed, to decide what experiences will pack our day.  Will we choose to focus on the drama?  On the tragedy?  On the darkness?  Or on the joy and blessings and beauty?

My mother was grumpy today, and insisted that April 20 is tomorrow, not today.  There was no dissuading her.  So the cake and flowers and gifts that I took to her didn't mean a whole lot to her.  Such a shame.

Fenway Park is basking in the sunshine.  Oh Sweet Caroline...

I'm going to say a prayer for the tragic losses of the day, but not dwell on them.

And as to the silly... well, it's only 2:39 as I write this, not 4:20 yet.

What meaning will YOU give to this day? Where will you focus your energy?

Will you look for ways to tear others apart, or ways to spread joy, and show gratitude?

It's up to you.

Be sad, or be silly.

You decide.