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Autumnal Reflection
Dear friends, The nights are growing shorter, the leaves begin to yellow, to fall. Autumn has arrived, and against this background of change, I have changed too. It is incredible how only two months of college can change one. The novel paths of independence, bouts of loneliness and mental weariness, wrestles with comparison, and joys…
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Choose Slow
Dear friends, As summer comes to a close, I grieve the end of unhurried days, of slow mornings. There have been many lovely moments this week when the stillness of an early morning or late evening has calmed my body, my mind. Moments when I can rest in the beauty of slowness, of quietude, paralyzed…
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Blindness
At age eight, I desperately wanted glasses. I liked the elegant look they afforded adults and thought perhaps the intelligence they conferred could cloak me as well. One of my schemes to acquire this special good was to fake an eye condition. I complained to my mother that my eye vision was blurred, and, as…
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Eighteen Going on Eighty
I turned eighteen several days ago. Considering I have been mentally eighty for several years, physically turning eighteen feels… almost natural. Eighteen is a strange number. Legally, it carries the weight of adult jail, child adoption, marriage, voting, and endless terms & conditions. But eighteen is also an expecting number, waiting for me to act…
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How I Am Secretly An Elderly Woman
Recently, I learned a new piece of vocabulary: “octogenarian.” According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, it refers to “a person whose age is in the eighties.” The word encapsulates how I often feel internally. Although, physically, I am a young lady, I have always been an old soul at heart. Some may find this idea odd…
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Transfixed
On a crisp summer evening a few days ago, I attended the Schuman Symphony No. 4 concert in Grant Park, Chicago. The cool wind brushed my face as I sat down on a rickety red chair in the free seats section. The stainless steel exterior of the Jay Pritzker Pavilion glimmered before me, intricate in…