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The Best Thing with Four Legs
What’s good about having a pet? Well, let me count the ways—though if you’ve ever shared your home with one, you probably don’t need convincing. First off, it’s waking up in the morning and finding someone—wide-eyed, tail going like a propeller—already convinced that this is going to be the best day ever. Before coffee, before…
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Three Years from Now (Assuming I Don’t Win the Lottery or Get Hit by a Bus)
“What will your life be like in three years?” they ask, as if I’ve got some grand master plan drawn up on a whiteboard somewhere. Truth is, I don’t. I barely know what I’m having for lunch tomorrow, let alone what I’ll be doing in 2028. But if the universe doesn’t hurl any major surprises…
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Dreams: Flights of the Soul
You ever wonder what dreams really are? Some people say they’re just the clutter of the day, your brain trying to clean house while you sleep. Science tells us that biologically, dreams are the brain’s way of processing and consolidating information—sifting through memories, ironing out emotions, even rehearsing possible futures. Freud called them the royal…
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Racism and the Weight of History
A meditation on hate, memory, and the long road back to each other. There are a lot of things we inherit from the human condition—curiosity, love, wonder, even a bit of mischief. But hate… hate is learned. Passed down like some poisonous heirloom, tucked into the corners of the soul where fear makes its home.…
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Nostalgia, Travel, and the Myth of the Idaho Girl
By someone who’s been around a bit and still wonders what happened to all the people who vanished quietly. Lately, I’ve been feeling… well, nostalgic. And not in the soft-focus, violins-playing sort of way, but more like someone opened the floodgates in my brain and out came everything from school uniforms to the smell of…
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Georgie the Conqueror (or How 20 Pounds Can Run Your Whole Day)
It’s 6:03 in the morning. Not 6:00. Not 6:05. Six. Oh. Three. This is not a time any sane human should be alive, let alone functioning. And yet, like clockwork, a small, fuzzy assassin—codename: Georgie—initiates his first strike. A gentle tap on the arm. Soft. Innocent. Like a well-mannered English butler waking you with a…
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The Weight of Silence, Echoes of a Broken Heart
July 2012. I flew back to California with a broken heart, not like a girlfriend bad breakup kind, nor the one that stings when life simply doesn’t go your way. No, this was something deeper, something that reached into my very core and shattered everything I thought I knew about love, trust, and the life…
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We the People, Once More
These days, there is fear in the air. Not the kind that comes from the deep woods or the things that go bump in the night, but the kind that seeps in when we stop questioning, when we let the loudest voices drown out reason, when we start believing that our neighbors are the enemy.…
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