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“Mom, are you coming?” Jackson called from the next plateau. I was sitting on a rock ledge trying to overcome the vertigo triggered by my fear of heights. Next to me sat a woman who’d confessed that she did not have the fitness to proceed. Observing her contented defeat, I knew I didn’t want to…
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After one of my storytelling workshops, a participant handed me his business card and invited me to call him because he wanted me to share his story. Anonymity is important to him, so let’s call him Mike. Sixteen years ago, Mike was a rising star as a design engineer. He was being groomed for advancement…
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As a freshman in college, I had to live with my parents, which was not what I wanted to be doing. Feeling stifled and cut off from my peers, I came up with the idea that buying a car would give me (some of) the freedom I craved. When I broached the topic with my…
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Bernie joined the Cardiac Rehab program where I interned in grad school. He was angry and resistant to the lifestyle changes we promoted. I remember him standing in the back of my nutrition class, making jokes and snide remarks under his breath – he was distracting and made me feel uncomfortable. He sent his wife…
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Amy, the 17-year-old daughter of someone I know, spent this summer as a nanny for three amazing kids, age five to eleven. She learned to juggle a lot of comings and goings and stay on top of a hectic schedule of events. But in between tennis and golf camps, soccer practice, swim team, and play…
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A teacher walks into a classroom and sets a glass jar on the table. He silently places 2-inch rocks in the jar until no more can fit. He asks the class if the jar is full and they agree it is. He says, “Really,” and pulls out a pile of small pebbles, adding them to…
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“I can’t wait until I go to college so I don’t have to sit through Sunday Night Dinner,” our 18-year-old daughter whined — creating tension and drama — as we gathered for our ritual meal around the dining room table, set with linens and lit with candles. Six months later on her first weekend home…
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“Automatic out, Storlie’s up!” my classmates would chant when I’d get up to bat. As a young girl in the 60s, I was a skinny, klutzy kid no one wanted on their team. Humiliated and defeated, I’d swing my three strikes and, maybe, get walked. I grew up hating PE and sports. As a nutrition…
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Last week, I spent 5 days and 4 nights in hospice with my father, Jack Storlie, who passed away on May 4. During this vigil, I experienced the emotional side of health in the deepest way possible. Before going into a coma, Dad was recovering from an emergency surgery that removed 25% of his small…
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