Creative activity, especially in collaboration with others. Creating a court model that empowers those who us it, with compassion and dignity. Creativity is designing an international symposium on bringing love and forgiveness into the family court, or playing folk songs with a few friends. Having one of my sons in art school stop by to ask my opinion on his latest work. Sending a new piece of my "non-legal" writing to a creative writing journal, or to my younger brother, a writer. Creative activity is a conversation with a stranger--I especially love those. Being in the moment, feeling the fullness and newness of the moment, knowing it passes by quickly.
I vowed never to drink alcohol like my father, who became a violent alcoholic. He lost his legal practice, his family and his life. He scarred us with terror, then left us on welfare, with a mother who was crippled from multiple sclerosis. I was devastated to realize at age twenty-seven that I, too, had become addicted to alcohol. I drank to drown the pain from childhood, the death of my mother, and to cover up my painful social phobias. I reached out to a friend who had six months of sobriety and asked for help. He took me to my first meeting and from that day forward I never had to drink again. They taught me a new way to live, based on gratitude and giving.
In college, I was thriving academically but struggling socially and emotionally. I had a talent for learning languages and was known for my writings in French, my major, but I could not speak in class. A remnant perhaps, from the Selective Mutism I suffered in school starting in Kindergarten. One of my French professors, whom I admired greatly, being the only woman in the department, took me aside one day. She asked if I knew what might be blocking my potential, why I could not speak French in class. I blurted the headlines from my family: the damage, the sickness, the poverty and the violence. She said, "I understand that your family life is complex." I loved how she defined the painful circumstances in such a non-judging way. Then she said, "Here is a brochure. You need to go to Paris for this one-month theater study. You need an immersion experience. Your brothers can care for your mother in your absence." I was shocked and excited by her idea. I not only went for that one-month program, but I went back the following year as an exchange student. Mom missed me, but did fine with my brothers. Dr. Tamara Goldstein Root believed in me, and her strong effort gave me opportunities and joys I had only dreamed which have enriched my life.
Knowing I have had terminal cancer for eight years has given me a "head-start." I think I have most things in order, but I do wish I could have more time with my loved ones, especially my sons who are 22,22 and 24. I would love to see more of their lives unfold, if possible. I am working on a memoir and getting close to finishing that, thanks to the love and commitment of my dear younger brother Mick Cochrane, a writer.
Be kind whenever possible. It's always possible. The Dalai Lama