The Family Outsider: When You Love Them But Live Differently
A photo of my dad and sister at McDonald’s reminded me I’m the family outsider. And that’s okay.
The Thoughts We Rarely Admit
A photo of my dad and sister at McDonald’s reminded me I’m the family outsider. And that’s okay.
Cycling to work in the pouring rain at 56 felt both liberating and slightly absurd at the same time.
Sanctuary is the feeling of exhaling after holding your breath all day. Where’s yours?
Some mornings at 4am, walking to 7-Eleven, I just quietly acknowledge that I have enough today.
Covered in mosquito bites at 4:30pm, my boss asked for one more thing. I nearly said no.
At 3am I wasn’t stressed. I was awake because I’m still addicted to hope at nearly sixty.
Before cancer, I lived like I was immortal. Facing death taught me to stop wasting time.
Even with people you like, there’s a hidden cost to constantly adjusting yourself for others.
For 20 years, my wife was my reality check. Now I have to be my own mirror.