Day after day.

I wake up.

I go to class.

I go to work.

And then I stop.

I stop and I breathe.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

I panic, just a little, on the inside. Not because of anything happening around me.

I panic because I want to give everything I have to the world, but I’m afraid that it won’t be enough.

That I won’t choose the right cause to give myself to.

That no matter what I do, everything might go to shit anyway.

I hate the fact that I could just look away and not care about all of the things wrong with my country, with the world as a whole.

I could trade my empathy for harsh words and ill-tempered judgments forged out of hatred.

But that would tear against every fiber of my being.

I think at some point in all of our lives, we’ve wished that a superhero would swoop in and make us feel safe.

Make us feel like no matter what happened, the world would be ok.

That’s naive though.

Naive and childish and weak.

And completely human.

And that’s why I think heroes are so important to us.

The most compelling movies and tales of heroes are not the ones that depict gods of immeasurable power taking on evil, but the stories of those who are fighting for their humanity.

Sometimes they win.

And sometimes they don’t.

That’s something that we can all relate to.

Life is all about that struggle, and the moment you cease to fight against the current is the moment you become a part of the problem.

Forgetting to care, to love, to bathe in the light of the world.

These are crimes against the soul.

When the hero gets up, again and again and again, we see what it is to be truly human.

Humanity is the refusal to accept any fate beyond the one that you choose for yourself.




I panic a little.

Then I realize that nobody can save me.

Nobody but myself.


I encourage you to follow this link, turn up the video quality, shut your eyes, and listen to the whole thing. Feel the song. Feel the struggle. Think about the worst day you have ever had. Then think about how you are still here. Think about the people who helped get you here. And don’t forget to give yourself some credit, because just showing up is half the fight, am I right?


Saying “Thank you”

Hand written letters have a power to them that can’t be matched my email. Check out Broadside’s take on the matter.


A lovely card arrived this week for my husband, a thank-you note (real paper, lovely image, hand-written in pen) from a young female photographer whose work he had commissioned for a New York Times photo essay.

If you think thank-you notes — no, not thank you tweets or emails — are passe, think again.

If you really want to make an impression, consider the quaint, old-fashioned elegance of writing, stamping and mailing a thank-you note.

Whenever I leave home for a few days or longer, I carry personal stationery and some thank-you cards with me, so I never have an excuse not to write a thank-you note, to someone who hosted me for dinner or helped with my book or gave me a work tip.

Even U.S. President Barack Obama was recently chastised by Maureen Dowd, a New York Times columnist, for being insufficiently grateful:

Stories abound of big donors…

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Day 2:


What do you leave behind you, Traveler?

Every word you give away,

Every soft caress and cold remark,

From the momentary pause the world takes

After a resounding slap across the face,

to the interrupted tick of the heart,

Trying to maintain its mechanical rhythm in a passionate kiss,

Is like a tiny piece of your soul being ripped off

And left behind to either bless the memories

Of the ones left behind,

Or to bear down on them with the cold burden of regret.

What do you leave behind, Traveler?

Does the air tremble about you,

Like the high-strung pitches of the brass in Beethoven’s 9th,

Trying to follow your fleeting inclinations?

Perhaps those in your path are left with the giddy flutters,

Gifted to them by those with the confidence of rhythm,

Evoking the jazzy tones of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good”.

What do you leave behind, Traveler?

Are you motivated by the judgmental glares of regret?

Do you run from Death or Life? Love or Hate? Possibilities or Consequences?

Do you take comfort in the delusion,

That our demons are tied to geographical locations,

Rather than ideas, scents, sounds, and familiar faces?



Hello world!

Day 1:

I’ve never written a blog, so I’m not exactly certain what is expected here.

Ultimately, I think I want this to be my spot to unwind. A place where I can let go of all the problems I’ve caused and release them into the Net. As human beings, I think that, too often, we bottle up our thoughts and emotions to avoid dark thoughts and heart-wrenching conversations. Of course, in my experience, this policy usually leads to just the thing that was being avoided to begin with.

So, in honor of this inaugural post, I make this promise:

What you read here is Truth. It is my Integrity, bound up in the datastream for all interested eyes to see.

“Integrity is telling myself the truth. And honesty is telling the truth to other people.”

-Spencer Johnson

Here’s to finally telling myself the truth.
I hope you’ll join me.