​
I’m feeling pretty melancholy on this Easter Sunday morning, and thought I would sit down and try to reconcile why through my writing. I mean I have a great life- in fact things here couldn’t be better. We are spending the day here in sunny Miami- just D, E and I and it will be quiet but peaceful. We plan to frolic in the pool, do a little sunbathing and cook out on the grill upstairs. But something feels missing this year and it’s not just that I’m missing S or my Mom or the rest of my family. I liken it to that feeling I imagine Jesus’ disciples had after  the angel rolled back the heavy stone on Jesus’ tomb revealing that his body was missing. Imagine their anguish and confusion at finding Christ gone, wondering who would’ve stolen their Lord? In my case, I've had a similar reaction on this day that I guess can only be attributed to one thing- I think maybe I’ve lost my Faith.
This hasn’t happened overnight, though. No, my faith has been chipped away at and slowly faded over time. Now it seems, it’s just somehow left the building. Gone, like an Irish exit. When I say Faith, what I mean is faith in so many things these days (and not just the Christian church). Over the last few years, my loss of faith first came in the jarring breakdown of so many relied upon structures in everyday American life- namely in our governmental policies and in people who I’ve shared history with who’re now barely recognizable to me due to polarizing politics. During Covid, I lost faith in our healthcare systems and in our lack of humanity in caring for others. Over the last decade, I’ve born witness to the surprising dissolution of marriages I once thought were rock solid, the grief and pain of those lost and to friendships that have faded or been broken for one reason or another. I’ve seen cruelty in public places and watched killings and war after war unfolding in the world. I’ve seen powerful people and leaders lie and cheat without any recourse. I’ve seen the highest court in our land be compromised and overtaken by religious zealots bent on control. I’ve seen the rise of all the worst “isms” of the world- fascism and racism and sexism rising up out of what I thought were old buried bigotries and the stripping away of our freedoms along with women’s bodily autonomy. I’ve watched a generation succumb to the evil trappings and illicit attention sapping of the digital age. I’ve watched my own girls fall victim to an epidemic level of anxiety and depression that has become the hallmark of their generation plagued by mass school shootings, cyber bullying and early exposure to the many ills of society befallen on them in the name of “progress”. Laying in the streets and polluting our oceans, I’ve seen the results of humanity’s disregard for the other float on by as I trudge on through my own life, rendered helpless and at times catatonic by the immense enormity of it all. As a result, my faith’s been replaced by cynicism and distrust of everyone and everything except that for which I hold dearest- my immediate family. It really is the only thing I know for sure anymore.
On this Easter morning, I am reminded of the everyday life I used to hold dear and often still long for. Or maybe back then it was just safer and easier to live in a bubble where going with the flow and having trust in institutions was better lived without critical thinking or any realistic ponderance? Was ignorance truly bliss after all? I long for the days when I felt the shelter of these Faiths- a place in my mind I could always count on for refuge and answers. How blissful it was to be sure about so many things. As a child, I’d sit in church every Easter Sunday, my parents anchored securely on each side of my brother and I in the pew, and listen to the familiar sermons and hymns marking the joyous assurances of this holiday that Jesus had risen and saved us from all of our sins. That unwavering acceptance of the crucifixion story and revelry around the Pastor’s proclamation of this miracle felt like a pep rally cry. I remember feeling the unbridled joy and feeling of renewal, the fresh scent of the Easter Lilies lined up in a cross formation on the altar lingering in the air. Outside church, the crisp but warm welcoming air and fresh green grass promised that spring and summer would soon be here.
These days, however, that naïve elation’s been replaced with emptiness and disappointment. It’s hard to believe in a Savior of any kind. Nothing is for sure in this world anymore- was it ever? Oh, how I do miss that feeling of Faith, but I want a pure, unadulterated faith that comes from within, an intuitive consciousness of what is real and right and balances my spirit with fortitude. As truths are unfolded, structures dismantled and crumbling systems repaired, all I know for sure is this- My kids are growing up and we are growing older. I will ultimately lose someone I love dearly again and again and again. There will always be someone who needs my love and care or guidance, and someone who will shun it. I will never not worry about my children. My health will eventually decline. My dogs will leave me for a better place. I will continue to evolve and change and love people and make mistakes, learn, grow and find joy in it all as I continue on life's journey. And, in the end, I will leave this beautiful planet as I originally entered it- alone.
So, perhaps this is my newfound Faith- that no matter what, it’s these sobering facts of life,d love and perseverance that will continue to steady and sustain me (and hopefully this world) through the invariable storms ahead and on to the end. That I know for sure.
Beyond that, I'll give it over to G-d.  

PART ONE: Confession

I have a confession. 
In that empty week between Christmas and NYE,
when everyone’s in a holidaze hangover,
With nothing to do but wait for the ball to drop.
I, couch bound,
with a belly full of leftover cheese and sweets,
spend countless hours 
doom scrolling through my socials
searching, 
with each flick of my right thumb
hurtling down a digital black hole
of those never-ending, dreaded
psychic predictions for the new year.

What am I hoping to find, you ask?
I’m not sure,
but desperate I become in this addictive pursuit.
Through the hundreds of Tik Tok Miss Cleo’s,
Wheel-of-fortune tellers, self-professed astrologers
and keyboard Nostradamus experts
I search
(with 20% accuracy)
for some glimmer of hope.
Maybe a prophetic promise
or just a little optimistic fix
to renew my faith that maybe
just maybe,
this year, this world
will globally, politically, spiritually, economically
that maybe 
2023
will not
suck!
 
PART TWO: Predictions
Now, with growing frustration and cynicism,
it is clear to see, 
I'm not alone in my need to know, but 
are the answers really in the Cosmos
or right here within me?

We hear the word "manifestation" a lot these days,
and it's become annoying-
just another thing to add to our long to-do lists. 
Yet this year, my gut tells me 
it may be the only way
to predict what will happen to me.
So, here I write
​my own manifesto of predictions for 2023
knowing I cannot control the fate of the universe,
Yet I can envision my own to some degree.

1. Lisa is nearly 15 pounds lighter by the end of 2023, but more importantly, she feels stronger and more vital than she has in years. She manages to do this by being kind to herself again, carving out time for people and pursuits that supported her health and well-being. She may have some setbacks but reminds herself to stop making excuses by putting others needs above her own.
2. Lisa makes peace and finds balance juggling her two worlds. She makes the most of both places when she’s there and prioritizes her time with those she loves and let’s go of things that feel obligatory and no longer serve her greater purpose. Finding more joy and less obligation in her daily life will be the key. 
3. Speaking of purpose, Lisa moves closer to finding her personal purpose for this life chapter. She explores the arts and spends some time giving back to nature in a way that is meaningful and enriching. She hones her skills at Pickleball and picks up where she left off with Mahjong (with a new set of friends). 
4. Lisa’s travels continue in 2023- first a lively girls cruise on the Virgin ship in February where she will be challenged in “letting go” of the responsibility of making sure everyone is having a good time. Then she went to Italy in May where she visited Sophia, who after months abroad has blossomed and grown in age, maturity and wisdom. She visits Emily and helps her set up her new apartment. She feels both proud and a little sad.  In the summer, Lisa spends some time again in Aspen with dear Ali, with all or part of her family in tow. She takes her mother on a special trip of her choosing and it is a place where they are both pampered and are under no pressures. It will be memorable for both.  Lisa travels beyond that when the time and her intuition tell her it’s the right time. She sometimes has to say no to others in order to say yes to herself.
5. Lisa puts a little more energy in 2023 into embracing some of David's hobbies- most notably learning how to co-captain their boat. She does her best to master the ropes without fail and even takes her turn at the wheel a few times. She finds this both exhilarating and empowering. 
6. If Lisa suffers any losses this year, she will focus on what has come before not what is no longer present. She feels blessed by those who’ve passed in and out of her life no matter how these transpire. She continues to believe in and respect the journey everyone around her is on and does her best to support others in theirs even when it hurts.

 
There is a certain vulnerability I feel in sharing this list, but as the saying goes, best laid plans. The same can be said for new year’s resolutions. However, mine are predictions, neither resolute nor 100% accurate. They are my own hopes for my future journey in 2023. I have a few more but they are more personal and best kept within. What will happen across the world this year is anyone’s guess, but maybe if we all focus on personal pursuits to spread joy within ourselves and others, we can collectively manifest a world where love and peace reign. They say I’m a dreamer…. 😉

What are your dreams, prayers or predictions for 2023? 

Last week, I spent 5 days alone- the husband and girls off on their own paths, and it was glorious. During this week stars aligned and on three different occasions, spontaneous gatherings with special women in my life happened. They say things happen in threes, and that it can be very powerful. I would agree...

It is not lost on me
The power of three
In three special moments last week
It occurred to me
I was intuitively called
To gather
With these special three
dear friends
A rectilinear connection
symbolically drawn together
across a divine feast.
 
The lines between us unseen
yet perfectly aligned
Bubbles in hand
We raised a glass
A perfect trio
Magnetic in its exchange of mind and spirit
Where safe disclosures were made,
Recent triumphs celebrated
And quiet worries consoled.
 
A moment in time so precious
Not a
Calming rain shower
Or the bustling of restaurant chatter
Or a late summer breeze wrestling in the trees overhead
Could break the spell
Of this beautiful coven
of the divine feminine, 
its mystique truly fulfilled
as three. 
 
It is not lost on me that
Sometimes the ties that bind weaken
Release and 
Let go.
But those that continue their triangular pull
That serve to uplift our souls
and fill our hearts
Those are meant to complete us
A bond only three
Can truly be.
 

Thoughts on why we continue to accept societal norms and systems that no longer serve us whether it be personal (careers, relationships) or as a society (governmental, economic and belief systems). Maybe a cheesy train metaphor that runs on and on will help you envision a better future.  This is still pretty rough and needs major editing/shortening, but you'll get the drift. 
 
When a train jumps the tracks
Changes directions
Or re-routes,
It's either seen as a
pre-programmed switch point
or a
derailment.
​
What the difference really comes down to
is who’s driving the train.
 
Much is the same in how we conduct 
The path we’re on in life-
The relationships we have,
The places we live or travel to,
The habits we keep,
The careers we choose to endure.
 
The trains of today are most often run by computers.
Apparently that takes the pressure off the drivers-
allows them not really have to critically think
Or consider the impact
Of the path they're on
or why.
 
If the driver falls asleep,
Supposedly the computer ensures
safety.
Yet in reality it might be
That if there’s a glitch in the system,
Or dangerous conditions ahead warrant a change in course,
a pivot
or a manual redirection, if you will,
The train driver’s only way to self-preservation
to avoid collision or disaster is
to override the system.

What the difference really comes down to is whether the driver is willing to consider and opt for another outcome. 
 
I’ve noticed this happening within the minds
and lives of many people lately.
For years, they've been going through the motions,
traveling through time,
no questions or commotion coming
from their engine or the caboose.
Until now.
 
Perhaps it’s the sudden realization
That soon they’ll be out of tracks.
Maybe when they  really look out those train windows,
and truly grasp the myriad of possible points with which they could've
taken a different path, 
grasped the places, people and experiences 
passed by, lost and left behind
before they hit
their last stop.
 
Those reading this might even think
this silly little train metaphor
is about them
(and it could be), 
But it’s really about a collective awakening,
A conscious unapologetic unacceptance,
A rejection of ruling foundations
that no longer serve 
greater good
or 
soothe the soul.   
  
And isn’t it thrilling to imagine
where it all could lead?
If we stopped worrying
or being imprisoned by the fear
Of ditching the well-worn trail,
And instead hit the switch point, 
the pull lever back and instead
clear a new path
of most resistance?

What the difference might be is how bad the driver wants to hit the brakes to save himself. 
 
We're at a cross-roads now,
Both at the soul level and as a society.
As the maddening drone of the same churning wheels turn,
Making the same calculated squeaky stops
And passing the same dull ineffective scenes play over again
along the way,
What humanity aches for most in this life, in this world
Is a new approach.
 
Imagine
grabbing the wheel, pulling the levers and screaming
STOP- I want to get off!
Stepping off the platform now,
waving goodbye as the wind rushes up
and  a blaring horn sounds,
jarring  from behind,
as a new train pulls into the station.

A momentary ache of nostalgia 
as one looks back,  some stay on and some will
join to catch a final glimpse of the past 
as the familiar fades
and an anxious exhilaration sets in.
Fresh breath of freedom fills the lungs
As they board the next train
switching directions in real time, 
upward and onward they go.

So, what's the difference for you,
Who’s driving your train? 
Are you ready to get off 
Or are you one of the ones
still asleep at the switch?

Thoughts on a lovely college reunion of friends on beautiful Lake Charlotte in Buffalo, Minnesota. 
​
A much-needed respite,
four years in the making
a precious weekend away 
Where heavy hearts were lifted
By a reunion of dear old friends.  
 
In an unexpected return
to a bubble of solace,  
A place where even as the years pass,
So easily we boomerang back to
that easy "pick-up-where-we-left-off” effortless banter.
Reminiscing over vodka seltzers
and glasses of Rose on a quiet candlelit screened porch
we safely shared under a starry Minnesota night's sky,
the state of our unions,
our families, both human (and canine),
of competing age-related ailments and
embarrassing bathroom calamities,  
worries over politics and crepey skin,
tearful recollections of parental losses
and how unwittingly we’ve managed
to become in so many ways
just like them.  
 
And in the morning, a new game learned
yet not nearly mastered.
80s tunes in the distance,
a young buck in mirrored sunglasses with pock marked skin
Taught some old broads a few new tricks.
On a pickleball court, 
the latest fad
Antics and laughter ensued,
a sweaty back smile
air guitars jamming on rackets
And soon we became
us again.
 
With every familiar giggle, snort and high five
Reminders of what will never change
and what matter most
What the stretch of time and age
​and life's tribulations can never steal
Four friends
A golden group
Cradled in the calming, warm afternoon waters of Lake Charlotte
We float on,
In gratitude
Of friendships divine
And spirits renewed.

Thoughts in response to the Highland Park mass shooting on July 4th, 2022, and on mass shootings in general. 

The morning after
He ascended the ladder
Took aim
And pulled the trigger of his own destiny,

We focused on the guns
The guns
And the guns
Again.

Others criticized the madman’s use of
SSRI’s,
The Pills used to curb the anxiety,
Qualm the urge to kill
To destroy.

For a young white man who had every privilege
Yet didn’t work
Didn’t interact
Rapped into the digital vortex
Wanting to be heard
Wanting to matter to someone,
anyone
Yet who was really listening?

A follow, a like, a click
Is no substitute for human interaction.
Big Tech, Big Pharma, Big nothing but keeping us
Sick, disengaged, unfulfilled
An artificial substitute for what all humans really need
To be seen, heard, valued,
 Loved.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow
To know this scene will play out again
And again
Is there no end, no bottom, no bloody red line?
Or are these dark forces of hate, inaction and deceit beckoning us
Enticing us until we all pick up arms and turn on each other?

The spraying of bullets
Is a coward’s lazy way to make a problem disappear
But the harder road to take would be to
Unplug from it all.
To re-engage in our humanity
Re-establish our rights to protect our precious minds.
To be at peace with simple pleasures unseen,
Enjoy human to human connection without the barrier
Of a screen
An audience
The constant drone of a digital Judge and Jury
Telling us who to fear, who to hate
even ourselves. 

And in the end
maybe the ultimate destruction
Will be everything we think we are afraid of losing-
Our country,
our families, our faith, our wealth,
Our existence.

When the last shot is fired,
And the last pill swallowed
When it all goes black
Will our last moment of consciousness ponder
Whether the guns, the likes, the fame, the money, the retribution-

Was that the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness we were promised? 

Thoughts on our current state of political discourse in the United States. 
​
When the dust settles,
And the history books are written.  
If those that remain,
can look back through a clearer lens
where will they see you stood
at this moment?
 
Were you the one praying for change,
seeking vengeance
 or hoping for justice?

Was it yourself or for all,
For the earth or for your children
For the country or
was it only for those who shared
your world view,
your faith
or the color of your skin?
Were your convictions rooted in righteousness,
keeping the peace,
in passive indifference
or in making another suffer?
 
Where were you
When the hungry needed fed,
 the sick needed healing,
When the other needed your compassion?

Were you the one we see with the bullhorn-
Shouting yet not hearing,
Believing yet not seeing?
Or were you the one quiet and unseen,
delivering meals,
Lending a kind hand,
Trying to steady the storms around you.
 
Where were you when it all came apart,
When the flag fell
and the crosses burned,
when the fraying fragments of our freedoms
lay tattered,
trampled,
and desecrated on the steps of state capitols
who fueled the great fire of our demise.
Were you busy ripping the stitches,
Letting the edges burn with the embers of your anger?
Or were you the one frantically trying to calm the flames,
Patch the tears and
reinforce the seams
Of our once great democracy?
 
Ask yourself now,
Where were you?