July 19, 2021 — Glendale, CA

On January 2, 2009, I met one of the loves of my life. I’d spent the previous several days on retreat with dear colleagues at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, enjoying a snowy, bonfirey time of dancing, laughing, catching up, and composting 2008. After our farewells, I headed north in Big Red, my maroon ’92 Jeep Cherokee Sport, towards Gunnison, Colorado on an uncertain adventure.

Unbeknownst to Big Red, we were traveling to meet his successor. It was a four-hour drive through the snow, and my reflective reverie almost devolved into terror as I nearly ran out of gas towards the…


Photo: @bandbehindthemask · Band

Edgar was one of my firsts. Decades ago, he became my first boss, first mentor, and first significant male ally. And now, almost exactly 29 years after we met, he just became another first.

Edgar was my first boss, but not my first supervisor. Before him, I had a dozen supervisors at the many part time jobs I held between the ages of 16 and 22, but I don’t consider them “bosses” the way Edgar was. Edgar was 38 years old, a psychologist with a PhD, and Colombian. He had a hearty laugh, pretty hazel eyes, and a long, curly…


image source: https://tnw.to/2yqSQyV

I remember the exact moment I fell in love with my boyfriend, Josh. It was December 2019, and we were on our fifth date in the four months we’d known each other. That’s how we rolled back then, and that Thursday evening we were seeing each other for the first time in almost two months.

We were sitting on the patio of a nice-ish restaurant in Glendale that has since closed and been replaced by another. We’d just ordered dinner, and it was going to be our first semi-fancy meal together. However, we were running late, and trivia night was…


Four Corners Vicinity. Photo credit: Meira Leonard

I woke earlier than normal last Saturday morning to a text from a dear colleague. We’re collaborating on a proposal for a big potential client, and they’d just emailed her several complex questions they wanted written responses to by Monday. My colleague texted me because she knows I don’t work or check my work email on weekends, and when I read her message, I felt a wave of anger towards the client. What flashed through my mind was:

“Is nothing sacred!?”

Making breakfast, I ranted inside my head: It’s not fair that I actually have to tell people that I…


On Tuesday night after the debates, I logged onto Facebook for a few minutes. As soon as I arrived, I could practically hear the howling: “I need a shower after that!”, “My kindergarteners behave better than Trump!”, “Chris Matthews is The Worst Moderator Everrrr!”, “Disgusting!”, “Disgraceful!” “Embarrassing!”, “What the Hell was That!!??” I logged off, feeling like I needed a shower.

I didn’t watch the debates for two reasons. One, I knew neither candidate would offer any new information that would affect my vote. Two, I knew there were going to be shenanigans that would make me angry, sad, and…


To be fair, the two young dancers executed a technically flawless routine with breathtaking maturity and emotion. They absolutely deserved to advance to the next round of the competition. And when the MC gave the female half of the duo the mic and asked, “What do you want to say to your fans out there?” I braced myself. Covered in sweat and makeup, driven with all the conviction of her 21 years, she panted, “Believe in yourself and never give up on your dreams! With talent and hard work you can make it!”

I face palmed. Not again! …


Since the George Floyd uprising, I’ve noticed more yelling in my social media feeds. I scroll past folks preaching at each other, expressing their righteous indignation, going after strangers and asking others to go after strangers, or demanding followers take some sort of urgent action. It’s deafening.

People trying to change other people is nothing new. There doesn’t seem to exist a family, relationship, workplace, or television show today where someone isn’t trying to change someone else. Political campaigns and social media feed off it. …


source: https://inhabitat.com/

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. And I’m not being coy, self-deprecating or hyperbolic when I say so. I honestly don’t know what the hell I’m doing. What I seem to be doing is having a nearly six-month, casual, non-monogamous sexual relationship with a 31-year-old man. I’m a 50-year-old naturally monogamous woman with anxious attachment, complex PTSD from developmental trauma, and a history of relational trauma. And I may be in love with him.

I met “J” last year thanks to my Jeep. In August I took her to my regular oil change place for routine maintenance. Miguel…


It’s Thanksgiving, and once again our cultural chatter fills with calls to gratitude. “Be grateful for food on your table and a roof over your head”, “be grateful you have a job”, “be grateful for your loved ones.” This is music to some ears, but to me it sounds like a needle being dragged across a record — not in a fun way, like the DJ is about to break it down, but like the party’s over. Being called to gratitude pisses me off.

“Be grateful” shuts up voices speaking truth to power

It pisses me off because it feels…


Do you know what it’s like to be allergic to lies and yet try to live inside a lie every day? Of course you do. If you’re reading this, you’re living inside a series of lies — that capitalism is the best way to live, that our planet possesses unlimited resources, that “nature” is something other than humans, that we humans don’t need each other, that eternal growth is desirable and possible, that the USA is the best country that ever existed and always will be…need I go on?

So many to choose from. And the lie I’m referring to…

Susana Rinderle

Writer | Wisdom Coach | Wellness Warrior | Workplace Wizard. For awe, awws, #ahHAsandHAHAs! Views are mine alone.

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