Perspectives

Your brain is constantly predicting what will happen next, drawing on old experiences to make sense of the present. But anxiety, trauma, and depression can color those predictions, making thoughts feel like facts when they may be little more than an old file pulled forward.

Paint, Yarn, Words, and a Little Perspective I have come to realize that I am happiest when I am making something. Sometimes it is a painting. Sometimes it is crochet. Sometimes it is writing. Apparently, one creative outlet was not enough. It is nice to be able to pick up another when I have exhausted my interest in one for the day but have not yet satisfied the urge to make something. Painting, especially, makes me a little giddy. I love playing with color—hues, values, lig

From girlhood onward, women learn that their bodies will be noticed, judged, compared, desired, criticized, and sometimes controlled. This essay explores the cultural expectations women absorb about beauty, sexuality, aging, safety, and bodily autonomy—and asks a larger question: who should hold authority over a woman’s body?

Begin With the Body When the Mind Won’t Sit Still For many people, meditation sounds perfectly reasonable until they are asked to sit still and do it. Within thirty seconds, the mind has reorganized your closet, considered next week’s meal plan, and begun investigating whether the refrigerator is making a new noise. Some of us do not find stillness by beginning with stillness. Sounds a bit like a Japanese koan, doesn’t it? Yoga offers another doorway. When movement follows th

Old Man's Cave, Middle Earth, and the pleasures of losing your way The first time I visited Hocking Hills was about fifteen years ago with some friends. Somehow, we ended up on one of the more challenging trails. At least, I assume it was a trail. We climbed over enormous boulders and jumped down the other side to continue following what appeared to be a trail. We walked for hours, farther and farther into the forest, until we found a stone staircase that took us even lower i

The hidden anxiety of people who appear to have everything under control Image is AI-generated Some people wear anxiety like Lady Gaga wore a meat dress. You cannot miss it, and you cannot look away. Sometimes their anxiety seems to spray outward like a sneeze. Before long, everyone in the room is anxious, too. Others organize their anxiety into alphabetized, color-coded folders with an accompanying resource list. They arrive twenty minutes early to set up the AV system and l

They remain extremely secure, even from me. This morning, Wix asked me to complete a CAPTCHA to prove that I was human. This seemed reasonable. I have been human for quite some time and felt reasonably qualified. Unfortunately, the CAPTCHA did not agree. I clicked on the squares containing traffic lights. Then bicycles. Then crosswalks. Occasionally, a small section of an object appeared in the corner of a square, requiring me to decide whether three inches of bicycle tire le

Shiva and Shakti I live with two Siamese cats who have established a highly functional system of household management. Shakti is in charge. Shiva is large. These are not the same thing. Shakti was the runt of the litter and still looks like a forever kitten: tiny, delicate, quick, and entirely convinced that size is a vulgar substitute for intelligence. Shiva is much taller, substantially broader, and about five pounds heavier. He is a handsome, long-limbed, blue-eyed gentle

Serial killers, childhood adversity, and the mystery of resilience I have a guilty pleasure. I watch serial-killer shows. A lot of them. I am especially drawn to the ones involving FBI profilers—the investigators who study crime scenes, victim patterns, language, behavior, and seemingly insignificant details until a picture of the unknown offender begins to emerge. Give me a Behavioral Analysis Unit gathered around a conference table, studying photographs and announcing that

The road bends, and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains come into view, rising above the high desert. The air smells faintly of piñon and juniper. Ravens drift across the enormous blue sky. And then there is the light—that unmistakable New Mexico light that somehow makes every color richer and every shadow more alive. Every time I return to northern New Mexico, I have the same thought: I'm home. It has never made logical sense to me. I didn't grow up there. I've never lived there.

Anxiety often comes with a very busy mind. It may sound like planning. Or problem-solving. Or preparing. Or reviewing every possible thing that could go wrong and then reviewing the review, just in case the first review missed something important. Anxious thoughts can be incredibly convincing. They tend to arrive with urgency, as if the mind has just discovered an emergency meeting and everyone is required to attend immediately. Preferably at 2:00 a.m. The trouble is that anx