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When I awoke yesterday, the first thing I experienced was my husband reporting the number of homicides in Philadelphia. There have already been 166 this year, while last year there was a total of 154. It’s only July. He read about victims of a shooting who were just 2 and 5 years old. These kids will never go to summer camp, never learn to read, never know what it feels like to grow up, let alone have a childhood. It’s the ultimate robbery, isn’t it, to take a child’s life?

It got me wondering, what can we all do to change this trend in Philadelphia, and in the world? What can I do?

When I coach people who survived violent childhoods, the terror still continues, long after the assaults end. How do people find their way back? They find it through telling the truth about the horror they endured, and they learn to move through their fear. They also have to learn how to open up to joy and laughter. I imagine I sound Pollyannaish here, but this has been my experience with every client who’s survived abuse. They need to know that they deserve to have a good time and enjoy their lives. If people are brave enough to face their experiences, and tell the truth, they also need to know that there is something they can look forward to in their lives again. They need to reveal their truth and they also need to laugh.

I am reading a book called “DO IT ANYWAY” and it’s all about a new generation of activists who are taking on a mission of social justice, in the hopes of changing things for the better. I am meditating on how my humor can be a mission of social justice, and I am going to begin to use it for that purpose more and more. It’s always been important to me to raise consciousness about issues with my humor. Now I am wondering how to take it to the next level.

To be continued… Stay tuned.

When I say to my daughter, “Wow, Lily, you are getting taller,” she says, “Wow, Mommy, you are getting older!

Age matters. And then again, it doesn’t. I feel better now, at 41 than I did at 31, that’s for sure. I have better skin, more energy, a rosier outlook, and a much more satisfying and passionate love.

The older I get the more I realize that it’s how I feel that matters. Now that I am older, I don’t want to waste time on anything that isn’t working, and I must have fun. That’s what older means to me. So Lily is right! I am getting older, after all.

This weekend I hit a blue patch. Some twenty minutes later Lily asked me, “Are you still sad?”

I admitted I was and she said, “Well come over here to the love machine.”

What is the love machine?

Step one: Lily looks into my eyes and says, “I have such a pretty Mommy.” This makes me smile and tear up.

Step two: Lily goes off the bed head first, waiting for just the right moment, then freezes in a handstand, and farts in my direction.

Step three: Uncontrollable laughter.

I was trying to teach Lily how to get on her shoes the other day, but she didn’t seem interested.
“Don’t you want to learn how to do this?” I asked.
“I’m not really into learning Mom,” replied Lily. “I’m more into teaching.”

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The other day I was talking to Lily about our relatives.
“The relatives on Mommy’s side of the family come from Russia and Austria. Do you remember the foreign country Daddy’s relatives came from a long time ago?”
She nodded vigorously and shouts, “New Jersey!”

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People are often struck by Lily’s looks and they forecast trouble in my future.
Last night her babysitter said, “Watch out. Imagine when she’s fifteen, you’ll have to lock the door!”
To which Lily replied to the babysitter, “Watch out. Imagine when you’re sixty! We’ll have to shove you out the door!”