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My writing writes me. Sometimes the words come through while I am awake, eyes wide open. Much of what pours out arrives in the wee hours, while in dreamland. This morning’s missive was one of those. Recently I was speaking with someone whose view of himself was dim. He had impossibly high standards, with the intent…

Sitting in my comfy cozy bed on November 1st, 2018, pondering, as I do every day, the state of the world into which I was born 60 years ago. In my childhood, I felt safe and protected by loving parents, extended family, and friends of the family. I lived in a suburban South Jersey neighborhood…
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