The Calm after the Storm

Many of us have been through a couple weeks of unusually cold weather; in many cases the frigid temps, snow, and ice have disrupted travel plans. I was supposed to go on a mini retreat and visit a friend last week, but my flights were cancelled and I will have to take that trip later.

In the meantime, I have mostly stayed inside and taken advantage of the quiet time at home. There has a been a lot a reading, especially memoir, and every few days I make a pot of soup in my sturdy red Dutch oven. These soups are mainly vegetable-based; I take a look in the refrigerator or at the counter, and figure out what I’d like to make. Nothing is better than homemade soup on a cold winter day. One of my favorites is a green soup – sounds like it would taste odd because it has a lot of spinach, but I love it.

I have a project that I am excited about, one that taps into my admiration and appreciation for Toni Morrison, one of the best writers I have read. She passed away in 2019, but she left an impressive legacy as a writer and an editor. February 18th is her birthdate and in Ohio, there is a phenomenal project to honor her for a year, between February 2026 and February 2027. Beloved: Ohio Celebrates Toni Morrison is designed and led by Literary Cleveland in partnership with Ohio Humanities, with collaboration from the Ohioana Library Association and the Toni Morrison Society. Beloved: Ohio Celebrates Morrison is a statewide celebration honoring the life, literature, and legacy of Toni Morrison and there are numerous gatherings and events planned over the year-long celebration. You can learn more at ohiocelebratestonimorrison.org. 

I submitted a proposal which was accepted and in March 2026 I will launch Beloved: A Communal Exploration of Toni Morrison’s Award-winning Novel. This event will consist of several online sessions to meet and discuss this amazing novel. Beloved is a masterpiece and I hope to share it with a group of readers who love to tackle challenging yet beautifully written prose. It is not necessary that you have already read the book, and we will take our time with the reading so we can slow down, understand the story, take in the language, and share an experience of reading this book in community.

I’ll be collaborating with Moira Baker, Ph.D., and we intend for this book discussion to be a space where we can learn from the novel and each other. The response to this project has been positive, spaces have filled quickly, but if you are interested in learning more, please reach out to me here. 

February might be a short month but there are other gatherings I am looking forward to, such as jazz concerts and a dance performance. This cold weather lends itself to settling inside, but I don’t mind so much since I am in a season of streamlining, taking inventory of some of my possessions and considering if it is time to donate or give away items. This is going to be a big year, and I want to make sure I have made space for what is to come next.

I hope you are safe and warm wherever you are reading this. One more thing – if life is becoming to be too chaotic and stressful, take a step back and consider the one small thing you can do to relieve some of the apprehension so many of us are feeling. One small thing, that is all. If you are led to do something bigger, that is something you can discern for yourself. And rest, please make sure you are getting your rest.

In peace,

Ramona 

Books I Read in 2025

Whenever I travel, if there is time, one of my favorite things to do is to find an independent bookstore and explore the stacks to find what is new. This year, I read my way through dozens of books, having set specific goals for novels, memoir, and other nonfiction. Sometimes I am reading for information, hence the significant number of nonfiction books that I read in a year. At other times, I want a good story and as a writer, I am also drawn in by elements such as structure, pacing, and craft, or how the story is told.

Here are some of the books I read, by category, that you might want to take a look at:

Memoir:

Whiskey Tender by Deborah Jackson Taffa

This book is about a young Native American woman and her life both on and off the reservation. It has personal stories and is well researched such that I came away knowing more about her as a person, her culture, and aspects of being Native American in this country of which I was unaware.

Soil: The Story of a Black Mother’s Garden by Camille T. Dungy

Dungy is a poet, so her descriptions of establishing a garden in Colorado come to life with vivid descriptions of her garden and the wildlife that lives there. She also provides context about the history of Black people and their connection to the land.

Just As I Am by Cicely Tyson

I remember going to see Ms. Tyson as a college student; she was a guest speaker at a nearby college. When she walked onto the stage, I will never forget the image – posture impeccable, smile beaming, and she was a wearing winter white outfit which was elegant against her dark brown skin. This was not that long after the TV miniseries Roots mesmerized this nation over the course of several days. I wanted to learn more about her life, career, and how she became the accomplished actress that she was. This memoir did not disappoint.

Other Nonfiction:

How to Retire by Christine Benz

Benz shares practical and actionable advice on how to plan for and navigate a happier retirement.

Less is Liberation – Finding Freedom from a Life of Overwhelm by Christine Platt

Platt describes her healing journey as she understands the role of overwhelm in making her ill. She stresses the importance of being intentional in the choices we make because there are consequences for everything we acquire and take on as obligations.

Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now by Jared Lanier

This book explains the negative impact of social media on individuals and society. I deleted one account last year, but I believe that particularly if you have children or young adults who are active on social media you should read this so you can understand how it is affecting them.

Novel:

How Beautiful We Were by Imbolo Mbue

Despite the efforts of the community to fight, an American oil corporation causes lasting and extensive damage as a result of its greed and lack of concern that drilling has on an African village. 

The Great Mann by Kyra Davis Lurie

This novel, set in a thriving Black community in Los Angeles, has been likened to a retelling of The Great Gatsby. 

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

A white writer creates a new identity for herself after stealing the soon-to-be published manuscript of a Chinese American writer that has been very successful.

I love a good book recommendation, let me know what you enjoyed reading last year. Happy reading in 2026!

What Do You Want to Take into 2026?

This time next week we will be in a new year, which often lends itself to setting goals and resetting our priorities. I would like to offer a second approach which involves using the next few days for reflection, rather than immediately determining what needs to be different about 2026.

I let go of rigid New Year’s resolutions years ago. It might have been because I lost momentum after a few months, or sometimes the goals were short-term and once accomplished, I lost interest. Over time, I realized I was more motivated by examining a few core values and using those as a basis for how I lived, rather than deadlines or goals to meet. Progress and practice, not perfection.

For example, the fitness goals – building strength and flexibility and losing weight, eating healthy, and prioritizing sleep and rest. Nothing wrong with these as goals, I thought I only needed to set metrics to measure success. But what if instead I accepted that these goals were the foundation of my approach to physical well-being, incorporated them into my daily rhythm, and treated them as core values? One less resolution, one more practice.

As a recovering MBA, I am familiar with the need to set goals, deadlines, identify deliverables, and measure progress. But these days, I value time for reflection. In marketing we used to talk about the difference between “what’s so” or the facts, and “so what?”, which was more about making meaning out of the facts. Using this approach in reflection, I seek to slow down, sit still, and consider what has happened and what is going on. Then I go deeper into the “so what?” and consider what it means to me. What was the impact, what has changed, how do I integrate this knowledge into how I move forward?

In this way, reflection is like the light that shines back after bouncing on a surface; it is the understanding that follows allowing yourself to sit with your thoughts and experiences. 

I have already blocked out a day for reflection on 2025, in preparation for thinking about how I want to enter 2026. Call it superstition or the wisdom of the elders, but we were taught that you should enter the year doing more of what you want in the year to come, and leave behind those practices that no longer serve you. For a yogi friend, it is why she offers what she calls her Big Momma practice on January 1. Her grandmother had shared her wisdom about heading into the new year with her, and she chooses to gift those of us who show up with a yoga practice in the afternoon. I will be there, on the mat, in a sanctuary loft that looks over the altar where light is reflected through the stained-glass windows.

The next day is my day dedicated to reflection. I have a ritual, it includes dressing comfortably, making sure water and delicious food are nearby and ready. I light a candle when I enter the room and might play a little music for background as I settle in. I will grab a journal for writing down notes and thoughts, and have my calendars, digital and paper, nearby if I need to schedule events.

First, I consider the year in review – key events, people in my life, travel, what I accomplished, maybe what I left undone. Going through the calendar helps me remember. 

Then, I consider and write down my responses to several questions that I have gathered over many years. Some questions are:

What went well?

Am I learning?

Where was joy?

What felt hard?

Where was God in my journey?

What would I change?

Often, musing over one question might lead to another question I want to consider. I stay open to whatever the time of reflection offers. Only after I have given enough time to reflect will I begin to dream about what might be next for me, and that can be the foundation of practices reinforced, or new goals imagined and planned for. 

In my spirit, I believe that 2026 is going to be amazing, and I am excited about the day I have set aside for next week. I have the time and resources in this calm season to slow down and consider what I want more of in my life, and how I want to use my gifts, curiosity, creativity, and time.

For reflection:

How do you feel about 2025?

What would you like to leave behind?

What do you want to take into 2026?

Celebrating the Season

The holiday season can be as busy or hectic as you’d like, but many of us find ourselves rushing around, cooking, shopping, and decorating the house. This year, after a full and productive November, I have decided to scale things back for the rest of December so I can focus on what matters most – family, friends, and great health.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I had a lot for which I could be grateful. My writing is going well, and I have settled into a daily ritual which begins with me playing You Gotta Be by Des’ree softly in the background. 

Remember, listen as your day unfolds
Challenge what the future holds
Try and keep your head up to the sky
You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold, you gotta be wiser
You gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger
You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together
All I know, all I know, love will save the day

The writing time ends with looking at my word count for the day to see if I have kept the pace I set several months ago. Most days I make my goal, but sometimes I am under the count or have gotten so engrossed that I far exceed what I thought I could do for the day.

Speaking of writing, Phyllis Stone, a friend and roommate from my college days at Notre Dame, just published her first children’s picture book. The book is Oh My, Oh My, Look Up at the Sky and it is about the wonder of the sky, seen through the eyes of children. It would make a great gift for a little one. I also attended a reunion weekend for my dorm at Notre Dame and came away so impressed by the students who live there now. Their sense of community and engagement with the world gives me hope for the future, as being around younger people often does. 

I went to see the movie Wicked: For Good and thoroughly enjoyed it. Some viewers have commented that it differs from the book and the musical, but that is not uncommon when books are made into performances. And like nearly everyone else in the theater, the song that Cynthia Erivo (Elphaba) and Ariana Grande (Glinda) sing together, called For Good, left me teary-eyed and grateful for anyone who has ever been a true friend or loved me despite my quirks. I have found that real friendship has changed me in ways I could never have imagined. Love can save the day.

At a later date, I will write about Avondale, the community in Cincinnati where I lived as a child. For over a year I worked on a history project funded by the University of Cincinnati that taught me more than I ever knew about this neighborhood. At the end of November, I facilitated a panel discussion between a church community that has been in Avondale since the late 1800s and a group of Avondale leaders and residents. It was fascinating to hear the different experiences of those on the panel; it gave me an opportunity to reflect on what growing up there has meant to me.

Thanksgiving Day was calm, with family and my first attempt at making cranberry sauce. I posted a photo on my Instagram account (@writepausereflect), joking that I would still have the canned sauce available for those who like ridges in their cranberry sauce. We had a nice meal, plenty of leftovers for the next day, and time to talk and share what is going on in our lives.

December might be quieter, and I am looking forward to some travel, more family and friend time, and reading. As the month moves along, I expect more days inside, candles lit, and jazz in the background. I am preparing to winter and looking forward to it.

In peace,

Ramona

Finding Joie in Provence

If Provence was a color, it would be a lush shade of green. On my trip, I saw green everywhere—the green of the olives and the leaves in olive trees, fern green, celadon, the basil that I picked in a garden, sage, mint green, the various shades of green in the fields—green was the color that beckoned me in France. It was on the hillsides of Gordes and Roussillon, in the clothing, in the lovely linen napkins that were a gift from a new friend. I love nature, particularly trees, and I felt like I was immersed in green while I was there.

I recently returned from a couple weeks in Provence and it was an incredible trip. For the first part of my journey, I was with a small group of women, all open to learning more about how to find more joie (joy) in life. Through strolls around villages, shopping in open air markets for antiques, food, art, and other goods, shared meals at the table, and moments of quiet awe and joy, we had the opportunity to learn more about the region, meet people, and consider what joy meant for us. 

From the welcome toast and apero at our villa, to the goodbye dinner on our last night together, the retreat was the right balance of time immersed in various day trips and time spent alone to reflect on what I was experiencing. I learned about the delight of apero, which is a light meal in the late afternoon or before dinner where you take a pause, enjoy a beverage and fare such as olives, nuts, crackers, vegetables, maybe cured meats. The menu is simple; it is really about community and sharing. 

I went to Provence with an open mind; I wanted to be surprised and not locked into any particular outcome. I had been to Nice and knew I loved the region, but I prayed before leaving that I would be open to receive whatever was there for me. We were encouraged to reflect on what we experienced that was meaningful for us while we were there, and also to consider what we might want to take back with us, such as a new practice, an old one reimagined, or a different mindset. 

Each day held a surprise; we spent one morning at Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, which has the largest antiques market outside of Paris. I saw everything including furniture, copper pots, vintage linens, silverware, plates, clothing, along with fresh vegetables that were displayed like an art installation. Another day, we visited Loumarin where we had a unique cooking experience. The couple who were our hosts graciously provided a menu, detailed recipes, and taught us how to prepare the meal. The table setting alone was exquisite. I loved preparing the meal, but my time in their garden, picking the basil that would be used in our lunch, was meditation for me. I could feel my body shed any stress or concerns that I brought with me; one person said that I was “in the zone.” That kind of peaceful, quiet attention to a simple task is one thing I want to have more of in my life. It gave me not only peace, but joie.

I want to thank Ajiri Aki for her meticulous planning so that we could have such an amazing time. Her vision of what it means to have to a good life is transformative and allows space for people to discern what a good life, one filled with joie, looks like for them. She has written a wonderful book called JOIE: A Parisian’s Guide to Celebrating the Good Life, which is how I first learned more about her. She is on Instagram and Substack and I enjoy her pieces because of her creativity and willingness to share insights on how to enjoy a good life.

For the second part of the trip my husband met me in Aix-en-Provence where we enjoyed strolling Cours Mirabeau, an avenue that was created in the 1650s as a route for carriages. We visited the numerous shops on the side streets, always saying a pleasant “Bonjour” upon entering. This year Aix is celebrating Cezanne 2025 in honor of Paul Cezanne, the French artist, and we were able to visit Bastide du Jas de Bouffan, his family home and garden, for a guided tour that included an explanation of the history of the home and its role in Cezanne’s life. There were more delicious meals in cafes, shopping for gifts to take back home, and winding down in the evening, a glass of rosé for him and something sparkling but no-alcohol for me. And of course, there was chocolate!

These pictures are but a glimpse of the beauty of Provence, but here are some others:

I have always been drawn to France for reasons I no longer try to unravel. I often joke that it is because my people are from Paris, but that’s Paris in Kentucky, so that cannot be the real reason. I think it’s because my experiences there have always been so enlightening and inspiring. I have found the people to be nice and appreciative of my efforts to use their language as best I can. I like the pace of Provence; it’s somewhat slower than Paris. People are clearly engaged with each other, but the volume of conversation and life in general is set at a much lower range than here at home; I like that too. The architecture and the landscape are truly beautiful.

I love a set table, using cloth napkins, and nice plates, etc., but after this trip, I want to slow down when it comes to preparing and enjoying my meals. I hope to take more walks, because I walked every day there. Admittedly the weather was gorgeous, but walking seemed to be the most efficient way to get around in the smaller villages, and I savored the walks on narrow streets without cars racing by at 50 miles an hour. The owners in the market stands were patient enough to talk about what they sold, where it came from, and how things were made. I am certain this can happen here at home, maybe it is more about me slowing down enough to inquire. 

When will I return? I don’t have a date yet, but I know that I will go again. The next time I hope to travel with more of my family; they were as entranced by the photos and descriptions as I was by the experience, so they want to come along. I am grateful for this period in life, what I am calling my calm season, because I have the time and resources to travel in a way that I couldn’t for a while. Beauty and joy can be found in the simplest rituals and places, and it need not be expensive. 

With Joy!

Ramona

Summer Is Still Here

As it has been for years, August was kind of my hiatus season. I slow down and except for a trip to Virginia to spend time with family and friends, I did not add much to my schedule. It is a time for planning, almost like going back to school, and I like to start September with a vision and a plan for what is ahead.

Lately, I have been intentional about taking daily walks. It is more about movement, less about “exercise”, and during these walks I sort out my writing and take in the world around me. I want to be better at observing, listening. I have seen so much on my walks, simply by paying more attention. Earlier in the summer I saw two fawns in a yard, one was resting in a shady corner, and the other jumped up, maybe at the sound of my steps, and watched me.  

I imagined their mother told them to rest quietly, that she’d be back after running an errand. Of course, there is always that one child who is either more skittish or needs to see what is happening. 

That was a joyous moment, and I took delight in seeing them. Weeks later I saw that one fawn had been struck by a car on a winding corner where I always look both ways before crossing, because some drivers think that the wide streets in my neighborhood are an invitation to race. I was sad to see the fawn there, and I wondered about its sibling. Then I wondered why we rush so much these days, not slowing down, speeding past each other, only to have to stop at the same red light.

When I took my walk on Monday, I noticed trees have lost a few leaves, or that the colors are beginning to change, and it reminded me summer is waning, and autumn is approaching. I took pictures, standing underneath some trees; other photos were taken at a distance. This summer has been a progression of colors – fuchsia peonies; red, orange, yellow and pale green zinnias; the orange of butterfly weed; the pink stripes of petunias; the red of roses; and the variegated greens of the ornamental grasses that will soon enough turn golden and burgundy. I want to take it all in, savor it, prolong the delight because I know what comes on the other side of this season. 

Where has all this walking and planning taken me? I realize I am in my calm season, my euphemism for what is something like retirement, but still very fulfilling. It has only been in the last few months that I have felt myself settle into a rhythm after years of work and other responsibilities. At first, I would intentionally busy myself if I sat still for too long, but I do less of that these days. I am learning to be comfortable with less doing, quieting that feeling of I could be more productive. I have my writing, travel, a few gatherings, and of course, my yard work. But mainly I commit to fewer things, seek to do those well, and leave room for serendipity and ease. 

Like a new school year, September feels like a fresh start, and I want to enjoy it while I have the energy of summer to boost me into autumn. I do not want to ignore these outside days, because when the inside days come, I will miss the option of heading outside without first bundling up. I am learning what life is like in my calm season.

Quiet Time

I am just back from a week in New Hampshire with family and now I enter the quieter portion of the summer. The weather was great, sunny days with the kind of humidity that seems mild since I grew up in Cincinnati. We baked make-your-own pizzas in the backyard, visited Klemm’s Bakery for pastries, Hayward’s Homemade Ice Cream twice, and drove up to Cape Elizabeth, Maine for seafood and a stop at a nearby lighthouse. Being together was the best part, and I shared photos with those who could not join us. The only hiccups were flight delays, supposedly caused by “fog” in Boston. When I checked with my family in the area and spoke with a woman waiting for her daughter, everyone said there was no fog on a sunny midafternoon that they could see, but I knew the plane would leave when they said it could, so I read while waiting. I’m currently reading “How Beautiful We Were” by Imbolo Mbue, a novel about how a village in Africa is affected by the American oil company that started production and left the people and their land ravaged by illness and neglect. They resist for years, fighting to restore their homeland. I have not finished it, but there are passages so beautifully written that at times I need to put the novel down and just absorb the language and message.

I meant to write about letter writing, which many of us don’t do as much because it has been replaced with the quick text or social media update. I love writing notes and often will send a card with a letter or an article to folks, just to let them know that I am thinking of them. I don’t always get a letter back, but that is not the point for me—I love the slowing down that letter writing requires.

Last week, I did get some sad news—a friend and mentor, Ellen Doyle, OSU, passed away after living with an illness that she had been dealing with for over two years. Ellen often updated her friends, letting us know of her travels, treatments options, and speaking candidly about the gravity of her illness. I was surprised when I got word of her passing, but she had been letting us walk with her all along, preparing us for what she knew could happen.

Ellen wrote a wonderful memoir, “Dear Uncle Stanley”, which shares letters her uncle wrote during her young adulthood; she also wrote to him over those years. She was discerning and coming to understand her call to spiritual life as a sister in a religious community, and he was an older priest, speaking honestly with her about life and its challenges. I appreciated her love of letter writing and how letters are not just welcome in the moment, they also serve as a record of a moment in time. Mbue’s novel also uses letters between those in the village and a friend in the States to move the story along. There are many epistolary novels and memoirs, and I love how a letter can give an intimate portrayal of a person’s mind and heart. Ellen lived a rich and full life, and I know her spirit is at rest. That doesn’t mean I won’t miss her, but I am grateful to have known her for over 50 years.

In this quieter season, I will make a point to send a card or a letter to more people. It is more permanent than a text, even if the recipient does not hold on to it for decades like Ellen did. It is a way of checking in, letting those we care about know we are thinking of them.

This morning in my Pilates session, my trainer asked me if I was retired. I said, “No, not really; I’ll always have a project here and there.” Last week I said yes to an offer to facilitate a panel discussion, and I am in the planning stages for a few other projects that I will share as they are more fully developed. I appreciate this quieter season. I can be still long enough to let the ideas settle, like a butterfly on the coneflowers outside my window. If you are able, carve out some quiet time for yourself, whether it is a few hours or a few weeks. If we get still enough, if we are comfortable with the quiet, we can hear. And if you can hear, you can dream.

Cape Elizabeth, Maine

O-o-h Child

This is not the time to put a spin on it, today feels a bit heavy because of the rising strife in this country. There is no need for me to count all the ways we are not getting along, you probably have your own list.

While I was driving in the car earlier this afternoon, a song came on and I immediately was taken back to my early teens, summer camp, and a sense that the world could and would be a better place; it would just take some time. One of the songs on the radio that summer was O-o-h Child by the Five Stairsteps, and if you are of a certain age, especially if you are Black, you remember the words:

O-o-h Child, things are gonna get easier, O-o-h child things’ll get brighter. 

Hearing this song reminded me that no matter what is going on — assaults on peaceful protests, a seeming lack of compassion for those who have the least but are expected to give up the most, growing tension in communities that used to be able to coexist — things can seem dire but we don’t give up hope. We remain or get engaged, living out our faith and activism in ways that are consistent with our beliefs and access to resources.

I’ll be at a conference this week, joining writers from across the globe. Peeking at the panel topics, I sense that activism and how to use one’s voice as a writer will be a huge part of our discussions as we gather. In the meantime, here is that song that I learned so many decades ago.

Video of O-o-h Child, sung by The Five Stairsteps. (Press “skip ads” if one pops up, it was not present when I listened to the song.)

May it give you a bit of hope in the middle of the storm.

Ramona

What I learned at Biscuits and Banjos

Spring is here and I am finally getting out more, traveling. In April, I went down to Durham for the first Biscuits and Banjos Festival, hosted by Rhiannon Giddens. When I heard about it last year I was all in—I have been a fan of Giddens since I saw her years ago with the Carolina Chocolate Drops. Rhiannon Giddens is a GRAMMY Award-winning singer, plays numerous instruments, including the banjo and fiddle, has earned the MacArthur “Genius” grant and a Pulitzer Prize. I was also eager to get back to Durham since I have only been back for business a few times since living there while I earned my MBA at Duke, which was decades ago.

Biscuits and Banjos was about more than food and music, although we did eat our fair share of biscuits while we were there. This was a celebration and education on the influence and importance of Black culture on the culinary and music traditions in this country, which include the banjo, blues, country, jazz, and gospel. There were panel discussions, performances, and a chance to talk with some distinguished and interesting speakers. The festival brought together performers from as near as North Carolina and as far as the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

I appreciate how much I learn from other creatives and usually come away from these live performances with a new respect for what it takes to pursue art of any kind. Christian McBride, a bassist, performed with the student jazz ensemble from North Carolina Central University. The students were a bit nervous at first, but I will not forget the light in their eyes when they settled in and played alongside an accomplished musician; it was something to see. When I witnessed the power and energy of the Legendary Ingramettes, a gospel group that has been at it for over 60 years, I took heart in knowing that it is never too late, I just need to do the work that is before me.

I am aware that many are watching their expenses in ways they may not be accustomed to, given the political and economic climate we are in. But I would rather give up spending in other areas, and now that I have the time, I want to immerse myself in live musical performances as much as possible. There are also numerous free concerts, especially in the summer. I seldom come away wishing I had not spent the time and money, and often leave inspired not just to create, but to act, get involved, share my voice. This is part of the power of the arts—it can rally us to get busy in ways speeches and social media cannot. 

Rhiannon Giddens and the Legendary Ingramettes

Giddens, the Carolina Chocolate Drops, and the entire host of musicians take the stage at the Durham Performing Arts Center.

The Joy of Writing and Reading for an Audience

Reading stage for HOME, 2025 issue of SJCPL WRITES,
March 29, 2025

Once people find out that I am a writer, the next question is usually “What do you write about?” The truth is, as an essayist, I write about almost anything that intrigues me or makes me want to delve into my thoughts about an experience, person, belief, or issue. With all that is happening in our world, there is never a loss for topics, even if I sometimes I find myself grappling for the right words.

I recently had the pleasure of doing a reading for an essay of mine that was published in the 2025 issue of SJCPL WRITES, a literary journal published by the library. My essay, Morning at Home, is about how a morning ritual with my mother began in my childhood and changed as we both got older. I was joined by a community of several other writers who shared their own stories and poetry. Being part of a literary community is important.

Publication is never a guarantee, just ask most writers, but it is an honor when your work is recognized and appreciated. However, I truly enjoy the chance to do public readings because they allow for an almost immediate connection with the reader or an audience. And the fact that readers take the time to show up, well, I am grateful for that too. For the last few months I have been immersed in a much longer piece than the essays I usually write. I do not know exactly where this writing journey will take me next but I would not trade the time I have to focus on my writing for anything. Thanks for your support as a reader.