The Way of the Craftsman

Meredith Fineman takes to task the cult of busy in a recent piece she calls Please Stop Complaining About How Busy You Are: We're all just so "busy" these days. "Slammed" in fact. "Buried." Desperately "trying to keep our heads above water." While these common responses to "How are you?…

A (Fourth) Open Letter to My Daughter

Hi, Peanut. Since the last time I wrote you, another summer has passed. A summer filled with both growth and decay, with revelations and disappointments, with dreams and reality- in short, with life. You’ve grown this summer, not merely in inches, but in wisdom, in compassion. You’re figuring…

A Small Corner of the World

My decision two years ago to quit the sales industry and begin writing full-time has come with consequences. Most are superb consequences, some are unfortunate, some are merely different. On occasion, I act at a local hospital. It’s a nearly perfect setup: because I sit at home all day,…

Chaos

At some point in our lives, we come face to face with Chaos. What separates us from each other is our approach to that meeting. Some will run in fear. Those will spend the rest of their days running from Chaos, hiding. They will create a dark corner of their…

The Enemy of Progress

I’ve become too obsessed with writing fully-formed things, and I owe you, dear reader, an apology, because that obsession has led to my lack of posting for a month. It started with things getting busy, which led to making excuses, which led to stagnancy, which led to this post.…

A (Third) Open Letter to My Daughter

Hi, Peanut. This is becoming a regular thing, isn’t it? By the end, I should have quite a collection of rambling wisdom for you to ignore. A few things have been on my mind. First, though, I must say how much your existence has benefited me, or, more specifically,…

Snails and Attention

Something was missing. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was poignant, deafening, paralyzing. Or maybe I didn’t even realize that something was amiss. I was staring at the concrete sidewalk. I looked up to see the traffic light changing. I’d lost myself again. I…

Gloria

Jennifer loved the drive to work. It was never cold in southwest Florida, so she kept the windows down year-round, letting the breeze flow through her hair. It added its own pulsating rhythm to the melodies of her ZZ Top album, and was the same breeze that gently swayed the…

Diane, the Unknown

She sat behind her desk at the back of the store, watching a balding man circle an overstuffed leather sofa for the fifth time. She felt annoyed with him. Just buy the damned thing already. A salesman approached him. She watched the exchange with an odd mix of interest and…

Jeannie, Here and Now

When I got home from work, I stepped into the bedroom and noticed that I’d already laid out my clothes for the night. I smiled. It was going to be a big night. I’d been looking forward to it for weeks, in fact. How long had it been…