There’s no convincing my dachshund not to eat a rock. If the definition of eating is swallowing, technically, she doesn’t eat rocks. She masticates them. I blame the appetite on…
Category: <span>Intentional Living</span>
“One night, in a phosphorescent sea, he marveled at the sight of some whale spouting luminous water; and later lying on the deck of his boat gazing at the immense,…
I usually don’t expect travel to result in regret. Nostalgia, sure. A marrow-deep slurry of wistfulness that the Portuguese call saudade, absolutely. But regret? Not so much. Travel always somehow…
Once upon a time I kicked the bad habit of teeth grinding. But now the clench is back. And with it comes the threat of receding gum lines, ear aches,…
My eight-year-old daughter C asks the most annoying question: “Wait, what?” She asks it in that way that only a frustrated eight-year-old, youngest of the family, can as she navigates…
“Rest” feels like poison ivy to me. At the conclusion of one day, I’m already asking, “What’s next?” I’m hardwired to plan, execute, and pivot with speed and efficiency. Until…