Marion Dane Bauer
Books by this Author
LITTLE DOG, LOST Trailer
Videos related to this author
My Life in 8 Words
Q. What is your motto or maxim?
A. Life is a gift.
Q. With whom in history do you most identify?
A. The women who homesteaded the upper plains in the Midwest.
Q. If you could acquire any talent, what would it be?
A. I would love to be able to sing and to draw, to do carpentry and to fix a motor, but I have to be content with playing with words.
Q. If you could be any person or thing, who or what would it be?
A. Just me.
Q. What do you regret most?
A. I've made lots of misteps in my life, but there isn't much I regret, because all brought me to this moment.
April 08, 2014We are programed, each of us, to pay attention to the negative emotions, fear, anger, jealousy, sorrow. Being aware that we are afraid and tending to that fear is a matter of survival, even today. We don’t need a saber-toothed tiger waiting to pounce to justify our fear. A semi barreling toward us will do very nicely. Or a rumor that there are going to be cut-backs at the office.
But joy is another matter entirely. It comes on the breath of a spring day and is gone with the passing breeze. Tara Brach, in a recent dharma talk, recommended pausing for ten breaths when we are visited by joy.... see more
April 02, 2014
It’s been a long winter for those of us in the Upper Midwest. I won’t bother with the statistics, just let the word long stand. Snow and ice and winds and below-zero temperatures. Broken pipes, crunched cars, middle-of-the-night furnace emergencies. Our two small dogs beg to go outside then stand, bewildered, holding up one paw, then another.
Last summer my partner and I landscaped the yard of our... see more
March 26, 2014From Isaac Asimov:
A couple of months ago I had a dream, which I remember with the utmost clarity. (I don’t usually remember my dreams.) I dreamed I had died and gone to Heaven.
I looked about and knew where I was—green fields, fleecy clouds, perfumed air, and the distant, ravishing sound of the heavenly choir. And there was the recording angel smiling broadly at me in greeting.
I said in wonder, “Is this Heaven?”
The recording angel said, “It is.”
I said (and on waking and remembering, I was proud of my integrity), “But there must be a mistake. I don’t belong here.... see more
March 18, 2014The most solid advice . . . for a writer is this, I think: Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive, with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell, and when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough. — William Saroyan