The Small Things my dog’s breath the fire’s crackle pen on paper     bees     rocks     tears all the big Things

“Is this normal?” I get asked this question frequently these days. Often this question is posed by young-adults, people ten or so years younger than me, sometimes people my age. Young people who are looking at the speed we are expected to operate in, and the violence, destruction, and loss we are experiencing on the planet. Emerging adults who realize they can’t quite keep up. Millennials who are > MORE

Asked and Answered I ask: Do you ever think about me when I’m not around? You answer: All the time. All the time… I think about who you were—what it would’ve been like to hang out as kids, what you’ll be like in 20 years, what you’re thinking now. I think about the memories we’ll make, and the memories you already have. I want to see it all, > MORE

“I wish you were dead!” I yelled at my brother, Brett, as I slammed down the phone. It was a few days later my brother died. The things ten years old say. The things we wish we hadn’t said. Brett was supposed to come trick-or-treating with my friends and me. He had promised, and I relished my time with him. He had an air that drew people in. > MORE

I’ve become slightly obsessed with this word “care.” What it means, its etymology. How we do it, or don’t do it. How we’ve lost the art of care in dominate society. The word care is born from the words grief and lament. In its origins there’s a recognition that caring for ourselves or someone else involves bearing witness to their sorrow. We so often use the word careful > MORE