The wind whistles all around me, blowing so hard that I have to pull the fleece hood over my head to keep my toboggan from blowing away. Multiple layers and all this fleece, yet I’m still shivering. No, I’m not waiting for the bus or locked out of my car – this is by choice. These are the final hours of year 28 and I’m soaking it up at what could be simply described as my happy place: On a California beach under the cover of a clear, starry night….

If there is one piece of writing of mine you ever read, let it be this one. Perhaps you automatically share my posts across social media outlets, only read the first paragraph, or skim them for funny anecdotes. Whatever the case may be, I hope you’ll take more time with this. I don’t ask for much. Even consider not commenting, if it would mean a couple extra moments to read this. By this point, maybe I’ve piqued your interest and raised your expectations too high. I hope not….

Mom was prepared for my arrival. I had called her just 3 hours before and told her I was on the way to spend a long weekend in the old hometown. Our conversation was short: “Mom, I’m on my way up for a few days.” She said ok and told me she would see me when I got there and I continued on my drive from South Carolina to my childhood home in North Carolina. I walked through the front door and was greeted with a hug from…

When I sat down several months ago and starting pinning down the words for my post Write Your Own Story, I had no intentions of making it into a series; however, that’s exactly what it’s turned into. Fresh off a marital separation, working a dead-end job, and living in a city where I really didn’t know anyone, it marked the beginning of writing a new story for my life. A few weeks ago I sat down and wrote a follow-up to that post, somewhat of a summary of…

To show for my life, I have: a philosophy degree, a rocky relationship with my deceased father, a failed marriage and thousands of dollars in debt that is finally getting paid off. Why am I telling you this? Not to bitch, but to tell you that these things only define us if we LET them define us. Plus I just feel like I need to tell these things. I’m finding that life is much LESS about what happens to us, and more MUCH about how we react to…

I often like to consider myself a visionary. However, the problem is often that I envision too much. Over the years the stories that I’ve wanted to live have changed quite often. One of the first lives I wanted to live was that of a traveling preacher. That quickly changed when I was 6 years old. I wanted to see what it would be like to say what was then to me a dirty word, out loud. I practiced just by myself for a week, finally started to…