by Jennifer Paros

I remember being three or four, standing beside my grandmother, who was sitting in the big club chair in her living room smoking, and my father snapping, “Another nail in the coffin!” – his heavy-handed campaign to get her to stop. She did eventually quit her 3 ½-packs-a-day habit cold turkey and went on to live to 87 years of age.  The woman who used to muse over how she once had an ashtray in every room of her house left it behind, with no withdrawal, never craving a cigarette again.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

It has been a while since I first started writing steadily – around age nine when I began keeping a journal.  In the beginning, writing was just a chance to talk more.  Soon, it evolved into a means of telling the stories of things that were happening and the stories of how I was feeling about the things that were happening.  And then, it took a turn and I started to write to try to feel better about those stories.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

My youngest son walked out of his school the other day. He’d had a rough time earlier. He didn’t go far; just milled around and came back in.  His teacher spoke to him about it and he said, “I know, I know, you’ve told me before about the rule. I don’t care!” 

She suggested he experience a consequence: lunch detention.  That night, he bemoaned rules and told me she had shown him a Rule and Consequence visual:

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

When I was a child, the writing process never confused me.  I would produce such short classics as Sally Hamburger and Harry French Fries, and then go and make something else. There was no judgment on my own choices or the turns I took. In all of my ramblings, I never saw myself as lost, just making stuff up.  I had no idea, at the time, how liberating this approach could be for a grown-up. 

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

Years ago, I had just put my youngest son to bed when I heard tell tale sounds, ran in, and found him throwing up.  Excepting the desk and the walls, there was much to be tidied.  A bit rattled over where to start, I cleaned the child first and set him out of the fray while I stripped the bed of everything.  Awkwardly scooping up bedding and clothing, I headed for the laundry room, still fueled by my emergency mentality.  But while crossing the living room, I stopped – perhaps to reconfigure my load – and something happened.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

Recently I was listening to an audio recording of life coach/teacher Mandy Evans* speaking with a man who was in the process of completing an advanced degree. He had a paper due and spoke of his distress over getting it done. He described having to “force” himself to write it and was wondering if there was an easier way.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

Several weeks ago, I found myself suffering again.  I observed the situation and quickly diagnosed it as “writing-related” and acknowledged that I was frightened to return to working on my book.  Once again, I was confused about the story and feeling inadequate to the task. Because the writing wasn’t coming easily, I condemned myself for not knowing the route I was to take and this condemnation was creating a sense of failure and hopelessness.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

I read an article about an Australian woman who gave birth to twins prematurely; they were born at 27 weeks.  The girl was fine but the boy was declared dead by the doctor after twenty minutes of attempted resuscitation.  The mother unwrapped the baby and laid him against her skin, held him and talked to him for two hours until he began showing signs of life.  He seemed to gasp for air; the doctor dismissed it as a reflex action, but when the mother fed the baby breast milk from her finger his breathing normalized.  Soon he opened his eyes.   And what seemed to be The Impossible became Possible.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

The other day I found myself thinking about the Chinese finger trap.   For those of you out of the know – it’s that woven, hollow tube into which we insert our pointer fingers at either end, pull to get out, and find ourselves stuck.  If we keep pulling, we stay trapped, but if we relax and stop trying to escape, the thing loses its grip.

I like this toy because it reflects how both real feeling trapped can be, and that being trapped is always a product of struggling against.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

When I was pregnant with my first child, from the get-go it became apparent that some of my habitual ways of thinking were not going to work so well during this nine-month process.  For example, my inclination to keep a watchful and somewhat controlling eye was going to have to be reigned in.  As my expanding abdomen did not come equipped with a picture window, I was not going to be able to keep checking the baby.  I would have to assume all systems were a go.  Of course, the occasional sonogram was an opportunity to take a peek, but ultimately, this was going to be a journey of trust.  Not something with which I was all that comfortable.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

The other day, I was given an electronic device that included several cords, along with an AC/DC adaptor.  I dislodged all from the packaging and plugged everything in, but when I went to plug the AC/DC adaptor in, could not, as it was  “male” and the jack was not “female”. Although I could see it was wrong, I tried again.  Repeatedly, it would not fit.  Finally, I returned the adaptor to its packaging, resigning myself to using batteries instead.  This was the reality, after all.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

When I was eight years old, I decided I did not like dodge ball.  It alarmed me. And truly, it wasn’t just dodge ball—it was, at that time, anything in which a ball was airborne and coming at me.  Apparently, having no perception of myself as one who can catch, dodge, or work with an oncoming object, the whole idea made me nervous.

And so I went to my mother and requested that she write me a note asking that I be excused from all gym games that involved balls.  Yes, I did that. 

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

When I was a child, my parents tried to teach me to ride a bike.  Although I assume they must have tried more than once, all I remember is the one time I got on and rode into a tree.  After that, I remember feeling that all my efforts to learn were a failure. It seemed like I didn’t have any belief in my ultimate ability and so each attempt ended up serving as evidence of that initial perception.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

Recently I received a letter from my editor that the book I’ve been working on needs to be revamped . . . again.  And although I am grateful to be in a working relationship with an editor I so respect and who is supportive, I started to think that I simply can’t do it.   I looked at my book and saw it, not just as a draft, but as a mess.  My heart became heavy and suddenly running and hiding seemed an attractive option.  All from my attention to one little thought. 

Read More

by Jennifer Paros 

The other day I was playing with our cat Lou and because he is still relatively new to me (we got him about a month ago), I found myself studying him. What I noticed as I watched him play, first tracking some string and then a small toy, is that every time he’d catch what he was after, he would soon let it go.  Because if he were to continue holding on, the fun would be over and the game done.  Letting go of his hold was clearly critical so the next thing could happen.  

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

I’ve always liked the New Year’s resolution; it is deciding purposefully to practice choice.  But what if, instead of just one Big Fat Choice, like Quit Smoking, or Lose Weight - what if the choice we think we are making for at least an entire year (if not a lifetime) is seen as comprised of an infinite number of choices of response we make moment by moment? This way, we start recognizing our choice in everything; no longer are we victims to anything.  Now, regardless of what we choose, we are aware of choosing. 

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

I’ve always thought my youngest son’s proclivity for asking a lot of questions was a great thing – intellectual curiosity and learning hard at work.  Recently, however, while watching a movie with him in a theater and fielding so many inquiries, it occurred to me that all those questions and his demand for the answers were actually starting to interfere with him understanding what he was watching.  Instead of trusting himself to figure it out, he was bombarding him (and me) with questions.  I found myself thinking that if he could just be at peace with not knowing for a bit, everything would soon become clearer to him.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

When I was five, my mother put me in a class called Creative Ballet and I loved it.  Then, the next year I told her I wanted to continue my ballet studies and she enrolled me in a new class for six year-olds.   

I remember putting on my tights and leotard and being funneled into a room with other little girls.   We all sat on the floor in a small circle while the teacher spoke and the next thing I knew we were lined up to practice leaping over a pair of ballet shoes.

Read More

by Jennifer Paros

A long time ago, before the purchase of my first computer, when I was still quite committed to my Smith Corona electric typewriter, I decided I wanted to write something “real” and so set to the task of writing a book. Without outlining, note taking or even bothering to “sniff around” the idea (as Roald Dahl once referred to ferreting out whether something was story- worthy or not), I set to work.  As far as I was concerned, I was to put fresh paper in the typewriter, press the keys, fill the pages, and see what happened. 

Read More

by Jennifer Paros         

In a featurette for Spike Jonze’s movie of Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak praises the director’s adaptation of his children’s book and makes a point of saying of Jonze, “He’s not afraid of himself.  He’s a real artist that lets it come through the work.  So, he’s touched me very much …” 

There is something magnificent about seeing someone fully and honestly express himself through his work.

Read More