These are hard, scary, and unsettling times. Life is also still good.
I'm sitting at the pristine succulent-lined café bar, the city on pause outside, filtered out by clean air and soft music. An elevator ride away and I’ll be in a smoky lobby, surrounded by bells and sirens, the sounds of celebration drowning out the silence of despair.
Everyone has limits. Here are mine.
I live in Northern California where we’re experiencing a horrible and terrifying fire emergency – the Kincade Fire – and I want to offer a quick update on what’s going on in my neck of the woods.
Last week I fulfilled a lifelong dream of mine when I got to see Phil Collins live in concert on his farewell tour.
There are the usual questions readers ask authors. But what about the hard ones? I answer those questions here.
Instead of treating my writing as a priority, I treated it like a hobby, placing it much lower than everything else just because it was something I wanted to do vs. something I had to do.
I was tired of comparing my real life to everyone’s highlights reels, feeling this tug-of-war between wanting to quiet the noise and wanting to contribute to it. So I did something about it. I took a break from digital media.
I think we miss these opportunities to enjoy our home lives as much as we enjoy visiting new places. It’s habitual to go about the day-to-day, treating every moment as ordinary. What if, instead, we created celebration around the ordinary?
I started writing about how much I enjoy the morning light, but then this turned into a story about my dog, and my grief over putting him down.