Mindy Tsonas Choi

This cool, foggy weather is a much needed reprieve from all the hot steamy weather we've had this summer. The heat always seems to totally slow me down, and the solstice seasons in general for me are a time for less hustle and more flow. It feels like gestation... doing the hardest deepest work on the inside that looks like resting and standing-still on the outside. It takes up a lot of space and depth and energy, though there's nothing to really tangible to show for it in the end, but the biggest growth is somehow always happening beneath the surface.  So, there's been loads of family time, binge watching Stranger Things, trying new recipes like chilled Salmon Niciose (so good!), wandering seaside towns and collecting treasures and inspiration, reading and listening and taking long naps, sitting by the pond watching the boys catch sunfish and thinking about the possibilities.  I'm always grateful when the fall energy starts to show up. School supplies bein

Finally, after a sample mishap and lab do-over, my son and I finally got our DNA results! For me, there was this odd undercurrent of emotions that went along with the decision to ultimately throw my genetics into the search engine. I've been trying to discern if it felt like "searching for my birth family" (which is something I've always vehemently said I did not need or want to do, and now understand that this was a way for me to minimize the impact of my adoption for most of my life), or if it felt more like curiosity and acknowledgement of a gap in my history. My youngest was holding out for some wayward shocker, like I was 30% Irish, while I had a pretty good certainty that the results would confirm what I'd always thought; that I'm full-on Korean. Now I know for certain. I'm 94% Korean and 6% Japanese. It's so strange to see my missing links in such scientific specificity, in the dozens of ways this service interprets and breaks down all

It's been a week of mostly play and trying to stay cool in the sweltering heat. We stayed up late last night to head into our little downtown for the Yankee Homecoming finale, a weeklong town celebration ending with fireworks over the waterfront. We ate fried Oreos and bumped into friends who we hadn't seen in ages, and sat with them to ooh and ahh over the spectacle. It was sweet. It's always a little awkward to tell people Alex and I are no longer together. There is this moment where their reaction is either to feel bad for you and try to cheer you up, or where they bump into their own discomfort and I find myself trying to make them feel better about the news. I've come to learn it's this odd way we navigate one another's grief, and how we haven't really been taught what to say or do, or how to simply hold or witness it. I remember getting similar sentiments when I had my miscarriage. The reactions were the same uncomfortable mix of pity and the