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Kathy Park & Henry Woolbert

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musings / archives

  • February 2021 (4)
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Author Archive

The Sheepdog and the Tire

When we lived in Jaroso, a neighbor kept sheep during a time when raising sheep still paid. A large sheepdog of some breed — Great Pyrenees, I think — guarded the herd from coyotes and other dogs, but he must’ve been prone to chasing cars because my neighbor attached a large truck tire to his…

November 16, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

Pushing back against a shrinking comfort zone

The other day Jayne and I rode horseback in the back field. The wind was up, and Esperanza was in Arabian dance mode rather than her sensible, grounded Morgan. I call it her Arab spring. I haven’t been riding much lately because I don’t want to ride alone, so to play it safe, I wait…

November 7, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

Taproot of my heart (in honor of Arundhati Roy)

She placed what felt like a round flat smooth stone on my heart. In response to its penetrating, smoothening, deepening warmth, my heart spread out and widened in concentric circles. I saw a taproot extend from its chambers and plunge into the ground. Nourished by this taproot, my heart has increased capacity to feel, comprehend,…

October 28, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

Confusing and inconclusive, or “there must be some kinda way outta here”

Another session confined in the metal tube, jackhammers and ferry horns blasting amidst an addled and chaotic percussion section, and then moments of blessed silence while the machine hums and the magnets realign for another round of cacophony with a side of claustrophobia. I drift off worrying about a port inserted in my body…probably better…

September 26, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

My Guardian Angels

My guardian angels are a cynical bunch — they knew me when I was much younger. They’ve lost the halos ’round their heads; their attire is veering toward grungier They’ve saved me from getting too close to the edge and found me when I got lost. They talked me down from high up on the…

September 16, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

Walk away

Walk away from the soup when all the ingredients have been chopped up and the salt and pepper and cayenne stirred in. Walk away so the soup can gestate. Walk away from on-campus teaching when I realize these are not the students I can reach; these students don’t want to be reached; this is not…

September 13, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

Recalibrations

“Glioblastoma? It always comes back,” Doctor Doom says as he leans way to far into my space. “Three months if you do nothing,” says the neurosurgeon from another planet. “Eighteen months if you have a craniotomy, radiation, and chemo.” Why is it these docs love to measure the threads of our lives? I do what…

August 31, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

On wrapping a black belt around Sensei Chemo

You know what it feels like when you suddenly listen to yourself? When you hear the brutal language of your own self talk? When you hear how you are perpetuating your own negative programming? I hear myself say or write “chemo sucks” many times and on some level I am speaking the truth. Chemo truly…

August 26, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

In Service to Hope: a letter to Jonathan

Dear Jonathan, you are writing strongly about the hardest stuff: self-doubt, mistrust, hopelessness I can feel my own self unravel on days when I’m blue. A train of questions pulls on the thread that weaves me together — what’s the point? Why am I doing this? Why carve this stone, much less polish it? Why…

August 7, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts

letter to Sensei Glioblastoma

July 22, 2020 Dear Sensei Glioblastoma, A year ago today I learned of your existence in the right parietal lobe of my brain. You got my attention with that spooky seizure in the parking lot of Safeway. Later in the emergency room, I caught a glimpse of what you looked like in the CT scan….

July 22, 2020 Kathy Park
Thoughts
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