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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…

In a recent conversation, a metaphor came to me. I am a writer, after all, and symbols pop into my head like a full to bursting, hot on the stove pan of Jiffy Pop. I was speaking with someone about anxiety and depression and the ways in which we lose focus when they are snagging…

Each day we are called on to make decisions. What do we want for breakfast? What clothes will we put on? What shoes will cover our feet as we walk out into the world? Even more importantly, what attitude will we wrap around ourselves? There are  choices that may seem inconsequential, like the first few.…
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