When I was sixteen years old, a series of poor choices resulted in my getting arrested. The punishment designated by the court was 100 hours of community service, overseen by Reverend William T. Federici of First Congregational Church. Unphased and unrepentant, I showed up (late, of course) for my first day of service straight from the beach: barefoot, sand covered, and bathing suit clad. Rev. Federici said not a word about what brought me to his office, and set about drawing me a diagram detailing the direct connection between the mind and the heart. He explained something called “the heart of the perfection of wisdom,” and advised that I needed not just to open, but to empty the negative thoughts cluttering my mind. For a disaffected teenager, it was quite a concept.
When I first started having children I was working full-time outside of the home. For the first few years I was struggling to find balance. I categorized my life as work and home…attorney and mother. They were separate, distinct – and I fought hard to prevent one from interfering with the other. Regret is a strong
This past week I did something tough. I gave my notice at the company I’ve been with for the last seven years. I try not to write about work much and I’ve certainly neglected to write about all the interviewing I’ve been doing as of late, but I just can’t let this major life moment
I love being a woman, I love everything about it from my curves, to being able to carry a child, maybe getting a free drink here or there over the years, the empowerment I have felt with being able to work but there is one thing that worries me with my impending motherhood. I feel