Dear One,


Ok, it’s true. I’ve had to swab around in the universe for a while before settling on this next writing project.  As someone who has written in my journal every morning for, oh, the last century, nonetheless I have resisted disciplining myself to produce content for public consumption daily. Somehow this method seems way too OCD for me as if I was taking my temperature every morning to figure out exactly when I’m creatively fertile again. Not my style. Instead I’ve moved through the paces of my morning practice and continued offering the first moments of the day to myself alone with my God – journaling, singing, doing a few yoga poses on the good days (mostly happy baby or sun salutations) and closing my eyes to still myself and let go – and now, I’m here. I’m giving birth again.


By way of traditional introduction, last year I wrote and published a book, Bridging Languages, Cultures and My Life. Written during my year of magical thinking (thank you, Joan Didion), the one when my Dad died and my dog died, it recounts five years of traveling back-and-forth to Nicaragua in an attempt to learn Spanish in middle age. I employed code-switching between English and Spanish to tell the story and show what happened inside my mind as my skills developed and became conversational. I also included the contributions of many others through illustrations with photos, recipes, poems, and essays, all together showing the team effort that makes bridging happen.


As a result of going public in a book with my example of bridging, others have told me their stories and I notice examples of “bridging, not walling” everywhere – between languages, races, life and death, old and young, humans and other animals. There’s lots of material to consider and reflect on. Thus this blog. As in Bridging, you can expect several formats. Initially I’ll share short essays and journal posts, like the skeleton I used in my book. But I expect poems, photos and links to the work of others will follow as we go along. I commit to one post monthly, maybe more. We’ll see.


I hope you will comment. Perhaps we will converse. At any rate, you and I are here now in the public forum and that is a start. The birth is complete. She is breathing on her own. What will become of her? We’ll see.


Con mucho amor,



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