Mindy Tsonas Choi

Ages ago when I was in school for physical therapy, they told us that when it eventually came time to examine the human body up close the hands would be the very last thing we'd encounter. This is because of their aching familiarity, a quality we often don't notice until faced with their intimate scrutiny. When dissected up close, often a poignant and unexpected humanity is revealed. In this awkward academic proximity to both life and death, at the tips of our very own fingers with our hearts as witness, hands could trigger a flood of stories and sensations because of all we have watched them touch throughout our lives.  Hands are forever alive with life and memory.  My grandma laughed when I took a moment to wonder at hers, how pretty and capable her long fingers were, how soft and strong they felt. She smiled, saying that they're simply good for grabbing onto things. At 93, I imagine the utilitarian nature of the body becomes very plain and that the connectio

Heading into year 3 of marriage, almost 9 years of being together as a couple, Alex and I hit our first big make-it-or-break it moment after saying I-do . What we learned was probably one of the most valuable and difficult lessons of staying happily married and growing together as individuals, that in order to stay fully present, connected and committed to one another, we had to also commit to doing the work on ourselves. It was not an easy realization - there might have been a lot of kicking and screaming. This was the year I dove into my first therapeutic process, with a woman named Marilyn in a place I had not meant to find, from a resource list in the back pages of a book I happened to wander into at my local Barnes & Noble. I found a way to begin discovering what I now know to be one of the most influential and formative experiences of my life, my experience as an adoptee. At 25, it was the first time it had occured to me to deconstruct the notion of my adoption experie