I am the woman I grew to be partly in spite of my mother and partly because of the extraordinary love of her best friends and my own best friends’ mothers and from surrogates many of whom were not women at all but gay men. I have loved them my entire life even after their passing.
We must not inflict life on children who will be resented we must not inflict unwanted children on society.
I got a lot of things that society had promised would make me whole and fulfilled – all the things that the culture tells you from preschool on will quiet the throbbing anxiety inside you – stature the respect of colleagues maybe even a kind of low-grade fame.
Your experiences will be yours alone. But truth and best friendship will rarely if ever disappoint you.
Hope begins in the dark the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.
The reason I never give up hope is because everything is so basically hopeless.
When hope is not pinned wriggling onto a shiny image or expectation it sometimes floats forth and opens.
Most of me was glad when my mother died. She was a handful but not in a cute festive way. More in a life-threatening way that had caused me a long time ago to give up all hope of ever feeling good about having had her as a mother.
We can’t understand when we’re pregnant or when our siblings are expecting how profound it is to have a shared history with a younger generation: blood genes humor. It means we were actually here on Earth for a time – like the Egyptians with their pyramids only with children.
Your problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you’re going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over people and circumstances or whether you are going to taste it enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.
You can safely assume that you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.
I love readings and my readers but the din of voices of the audience gives me stage fright and the din of voices inside whisper that I am a fraud and that the jig is up. Surely someone will rise up from the audience and say out loud that not only am I not funny and helpful but I’m annoying and a phony.
My parents and librarians along the way taught me about the space between words about the margins where so many juicy moments of life and spirit and friendship could be found. In a library you could find miracles and truth and you might find something that would make you laugh so hard that you get shushed in the friendliest way.