Follow synchronicities like you are tracking a wild animal. Forget neon signs, billboards, and airplanes towing banners. Look instead for the gnawed branch, wayward leaf, and disturbed debris. Compressions and depressions, points of contact. Imprints of movement.

Yesterday didn’t start well. I was fatigued from another night of poor sleep, due to an as-of-yet undiagnosed shoulder injury that saves its deepest bone pain for night. The pain always wakes me around 2 or 3 a.m. and then, no matter how I position the injured arm on a…

Midlife is sex that moves like a conversation, not a conquest.

A poem created from rearranged underlined passages in self-help books* and one autobiography. ** — The present moment lasts the same for all, and is all anyone possesses.

What is waiting for me is . . . Mom, at a campground, sitting beside a silver bullet-shaped camper. In my vision, she is smiling, straight hair tucked behind an ear, eating a roasted hot dog, sipping iced tea. No particular age, just her essence. Enjoying the life she should…

I worked with a life coach for awhile in 2019. One of the best, and most permanent, changes I was able to make was getting control of my mornings. On the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, I am a P. “P” doesn’t stand for planner. Far from it. It stands for Perceiver…

I’ve had a love/hate relationship with my adult swim class for the past eight weeks. I knew when I enrolled that I was a weak swimmer, but it’s been amazing to realize just how much I really suck. In the first class, the teacher asked what my ultimate goal was…