My Heart Breaks For the People in Squirrel Hill

As soon as I could afford to move out of my parents' house, I went to Squirrel Hill.

I was entranced. I didn't have a car, and I didn't care, because I felt like I had the whole world right outside my apartment. I was steps away from any kind of food I wanted, my library, little markets, and family-owned businesses that sold items from all over the world. (And even my own family's guitar shop.)

Squirrel Hill stayed open late, and I felt safe there, always sharing the sidewalk with someone making a late-night Korma run or families capping off their night with bubble teas and a peaceful stroll. And there were always neighbors who were happy to hang out at the spur of the moment. 

One night, I found myself sitting around a coffee table with a group of people from different age groups and backgrounds. The conversation turned to the day each person at the table had received their US citizenship. I had nothing to add to the conversation except my wide-eyed wonder, because I had never considered any of the feelings that my new friends were describing with teary-eyed pride and passion. I just felt lucky to be able to hear their stories and laugh at their jokes, all told in different accents. 

Squirrel Hill, and its community, and any place that fosters a melting pot of people, is SO special. I realize I am fortunate to be looking at Saturday's shooting from the outside in. But it breaks my heart that the community where I felt so safe and so exhilarated is grieving today. 

We must do better than this. ️

Ode to My Helpful, Healing Gemstones

They might relieve my headaches, boost my courage, and soothe my worries. Or they might just be pretty.

I loved crystals and gemstones when I was little. Now, as an adult with a paycheck, it delights me to drop thirty dollars on a bag of rocks on my way home from brunch.

My friend Christy rekindled my love of crystals when I was suffering from grief. When my dog passed away suddenly, Christy gave me love, sympathy, and a small green gemstone. For months, whenever the pain and loss seemed overwhelming, that little gemstone helped me stay grounded.

Whenever I felt crushed under a fresh wave of pain, I'd roll that gemstone in my palms and feel the cold contrast of the stone against my skin. I'd close my fingers around it, feeling it absorb my body heat and turn hot in my hand. I'd search for the tiny rainbows that bloomed inside it, or I'd close my eyes, reassured by its familiar weight and the knowledge that Christy cared about me. It interrupted my panic and brought me back to a gentler, more bearable moment.

That powerful little gemstone has another story, too strange and magical for most people to believe, so if you want to hear it, you'll have to ask me about it. But that gem reminded me that crystals make me feel good. The same way salt lamps give my home a cozy glow -- and may even purify the air, for all I know -- they feel good to have around.

Now I start each day by choosing a couple pretty gems to accompany me. Gems are thought to have metaphysical qualities, so I'll choose a milky white gem for its ability to inspire creativity, or my favorite purple-and-black gem, traditionally known to give strength to people with sick loved ones.

Since I've been in 10 (yes, 10) car accidents (that's another blog), I started keeping gems with protective qualities in my car. Maybe they're helping. They definitely make me a calmer driver. I rub their smooth, silky surfaces when I'm stopped in traffic, and I feel my driving-anxiety subside.

A lifelong sufferer of headaches, I started wearing blue goldstone around my wrist for its anti-migraine properties. That and my Excedrine help turn my panic to reassurance when I feel a first twinge of pain. That alone helps me feel better.

I love how every gem has a different weight, a different texture, and looks completely different depending on how it's reflecting the present light or whatever it's sitting next to at the moment. Held at just the right angle, a plain black sphere might explode with sparkles ... then go right back to being a modest little rock in my pocket. It gives me moments of pure joy.

And I like thinking about everything each little gem has been through to get to me: the product of ancient processes, tremendous temperatures, pressure, time, and space many miles underneath the earth's surface. Tectonic plates collided and centuries-old magma delivered the the shimmering little specimen I can place next to my laptop.

That's magic, if you ask me.