Permission to cry

Are we allowed, when things are sad or beautiful to express ourselves through tears? I wonder because I try so hard to swallow that feeling in most settings that when I arrive at those private moments when no audience is present it feels like a true release. It reminds me of children who act out and are told to use their words rather than being physical. Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes there is just a feeling and that feeling manifests itself as a well of emotion in one's throat, slowly radiating through the chest, sometimes to the stomach, swelling the heart and falling from one's eyes as a tear.

Cheers to Suzette

How long does it take before you can really say a person affected your life? Does it take one year, one decade, or just one hour? A few months ago I walked into the office of Suzette DeJarnette and in her first sentence I was affected. "Hello, I am Sharon Vaughn. How are you today?" I asked this question in my usual first-meeting, sales-girl voice. As she was to counsel me on my deepest thoughts and issues I naturally assumed the enthusiasm of her response would reflect all the happiness she wanted me to find following our time together. "I'm medium today," Suzette replied honestly and instantly informed me of her credibility. Though I enjoyed her honesty I also I admit to being nervous. In my new-found pursuit for authenticity, I feared I would not have the luxury of filtering myself to gain a favorable judgement from her. But it (and she) was all just what I needed. Our hours together were short and memorable. She was an original feminist, a straight shoote...

"A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it." -Oscar Wilde

The night trying too hard almost killed me. The evening started as a success. Thousands of dollars were being spent with each paddle's rise, benefitting a charter school on the island. On the microphone a local, well-liked politician energized the group with his beaming smile and rhythmic descriptions of items up for bid. Wine flowed endlessly, poured by the smiling staff hustling around the tent to ensure glasses remained full. Alcohol is a good fund-raising lubricant. The team of servers kept close watch on our table especially. At our table, their boss, my partner, was keeping close watch on the execution of this important evening. The auction ended and as we all dispersed from our seats to congratulate our table-neighbors on their winnings, my partner approached me quickly. His hand firmly grasped my empty arm (as the other was holding a wine glass) and he told me we were leaving. I was confused at first but as he began to describe the flaws in service he noted during the...

Even Tall Pines Are Temporary

I went outside to sit for a while and stare at the tall pines out back. Word is they may come down soon and I will miss them. The thing about these gorgeous trees is that they are such a threat under the wrong conditions. But then again, isn’t everything. Tall longleaf pines are a key ingredient to the magic potion of this beautiful landscape in Northwest Florida. Their lives seem to be one big growth spurt. They grow from skinny little twigs to what appears as a statuesque and sturdy trunked monument in just a few years. Lining the byways of this region are generations of these trees. Driving past their forests, sunlight peeks through slivers of talk barky stalks. I am reminded of a hand drawn flip book. Each glimpse between the trees depicts the next drawing, flipping quickly to show this living scenery. At the top of this frame, wider gaps allow a peek at what lies beyond - sun, water, sky. The bottom of this frame is cluttered with new growth from a rich earth rejuvenated by p...

Un-Balancing Act

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