Star Stuff
Star Stuff

The story starts more than 4.6 billion years ago. Somewhere in the Local Group, the cluster of galaxies that the Milky Way lives in, a star died. It might not have been a massive star—maybe only five suns big. But it grew too big to support itself, and so it burned out. The outsides exploded, throwing dust and star matter into the universe—a supernova—and the core collapsed in on itself. The engine of its heart gave one last pump and ceased to exist. It left behind a dense neutron star, and a cloud of debris.

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GriefGuest Usergrief, mother, Daughter Comment
Dear Deb
Dear Deb

Dear Teenage Deb,

Coming of age in the 1970s, you sometimes marvel at the inconceivable notion of one day living in the twenty-first century, of being forty-three (ancient!), when chimes clang and horns blare, welcoming a fresh numeral on humanity’s odometer. However, you also doubt the probability of living to the year 2000, since the Rapture is bound to occur at any moment.

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Dear Past MeGuest Userdear past me, religion, self care Comment
Dear Joanna
Dear Joanna

Dear Past Me,

Congratulations. You are flying high and holding on tight. From the perspective of those on the ground, it seems like you could be floating up there forever, gripping the strings of a colorful bunch of balloons, symbols of success in a society that requires outward markers. One of yours is filled with the confidence of a post-graduation job as a public defender, where you will save the lives of your clients and probably fix the entire criminal justice system while you’re at it.

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Dear Past MeGuest Userdear past me, mother, workingComment
My Pandemic Lesson
My Pandemic Lesson

February 22

We celebrate my son's eighth birthday. To my delight and surprise, it goes off without a hitch. Usually, weeks of anxiety precede his birthdays. Inevitably, great expectations turn to disappointment and anger when things don't go exactly as planned. Not infrequently, parties end with his screaming at his friends, stomping upstairs, slamming his door as I apologize and usher bewildered parents out of the house.

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Life In the Time of COVIDJulia NusbaumMotherhood, Covid-19, Quarantine, Pandemic, self love Comments
Carrier
Carrier

April 18: At the desk of Highway Contract Route 74, I survey my daily load of letters, flats, and parcels. Utility bills, unemployment checks, hardware and furniture catalogues, scores of envelopes from the offices of politicians and Department of Motor Vehicles. And thin, white, padded envelopes the size of my palm all the way from China and Krygyztsan to California, pill bottles, baby toys, pet food, books, clothing returns (including Spanx), even a pyramid of plastic Tupperware wrapped tightly in transparent film with a set of stamps stuck on top and a tub of laundry detergent marked Priority Mail—Signature Required.

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Life In the Time of COVIDJulia NusbaumCovid-19, Pandemic, lonelyComment
How a Palm Tree Helped Me Grieve in the Time of COVID
How a Palm Tree Helped Me Grieve in the Time of COVID

My dad sat in his favorite chair looking at me, his eyes glistening and unable to focus. He could no longer remember my name or form a coherent sentence. Suspenders held up the pants that no longer fit his waist because he had become so frail and thin. Dementia had stolen his mind and Parkinson’s disease had weakened his body. When his eyes were finally able to focus on me, I thought I saw a glimmer of recognition, but with dementia, you can never be sure.

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Life In the Time of COVIDGuest Usergrief, Covid-19, Pandemic, Quarantine Comments
Still Moving
Still Moving

Paris is still in confinement, and I’m still jogging early every morning. Each day, I get a little more daring, moving well beyond my permitted one kilometer from home. I pretend not to notice when a police car cruises past me on a side street. I look straight ahead when it stops by a man walking on the opposite pavement, breathing relief that they pick him, not me. We are only allowed out for one hour a day, and without the correct paperwork to prove our identity, the fines are steep. At worst, we will be thrown in jail.

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Life In the Time of COVIDGuest UserQuarantine, Covid-19, Pandemic, lonelinessComment
Clusterhead
Clusterhead

I spent the morning weed whacking the pathways between my farm vegetable rows. Even in the slightly cooler morning hours, the heat was stifling, so I opted for shorts. Weed whacking done, I looked at myself, covered in dirt and grass clippings, dripping in sweat. I could hardly see my legs. Best not to head back to the house until lunchtime when I could hop in the shower. The tomatoes needed weeding, so I set to work pulling the lamb’s quarters and nutsedge from around the growing tomato vines.

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Mental HealthGuest UserMental Health, chronic pain, self love, kindness Comment
Sphinx
Sphinx

Shapeshifting has been a facet of nearly every human culture, explored in art and literature through the ages. These human-animal entities can be glorious and divine, or sinister and grotesque. Typically, they exist symbolically—either the transformation or the resulting state is significant in some way. My own experience with shapeshifting was more clinically than artistically rendered, and I am still hazy on the message my experience was meant to convey.

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Mental HealthGuest Usermental health, bipolar, Motherhood, life choices Comment