Category: Reflections

Sweet Rituals

I don’t remember when my sister and I began baking cookies together, but soon it was a permanent fixture, the ritual of our childhood. Every Monday at seven o’clock, our mother would drop me and Cecily off at our father’s house.

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On Fanning Flames and Drowning: A Reflection of Grief and Fury

“I cannot unlearn that my fury is not just something that sparked and never died. It is born out of mourning. “

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The Incremental Approach

A look at the astonishing career of Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

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Homeward Bound

As of last year, I have lost my status as a permanent resident of New York City. I have in many ways become a stranger to the concrete jungle that taught me that the world contained more than my five-person family and two-bedroom apartment located in the scenic neighborhood of Parkchester, centered in the middle of the Bronx, a borough known for little more than its poverty and baseball team.

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Faith & Identity

On Unitarian Universalism: “Identity is fluid, and its discovery is a personal and communal journey.”

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Happy Birthday, Ronald Reagan

“His favorite food was jellybeans because they helped him fend off the desire to smoke. We eat none and smoke none, and congratulate ourselves.”

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For Yan Pei-Ming, One Portrait Size Fits All

“As I sat on the bench in the center of the exhibition room, dwarfed by the mammoth panels of the tryptic, I considered my reaction.”

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Divine Reckoning

Reflections on traveling the Karu Highway by bus.

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Seeking Nature in Suburbia

“Like clockwork, the dull roars of airplane engines drown out the wind and occasional cricket chirps…”

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Mortem Ex Machina

I remember the first time someone I knew died. My sister’s friend had gone missing, and when the news finally came that her death was sure, I privately went through my phone, which had previously been my sister’s, and searched for the friend’s name.

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Poland Rising Part II

“There’s no way to keep their memory alive perfectly; with time, their carcasses will fade from the streets and then from memory.”

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All the World’s a Stage

Getting tickets was a nightmare—the chances were slim to nothing. One in a quarter billion. But somehow, the odds worked in your favor. Seems pretty arbitrary, if you ask me. You were offered a front row seat under one condition—you would stay for all of it.

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