What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

Clearing stuff out.

Despite all my threats — and despite some nostalgia-induced wishful thinking — I have not gone into crazed cleaning-obsessively-for-Passover mode.

Not that there hasn’t been a ridiculous amount of cleaning because ohmygod it starts tonight there has.

Just that I’ve been able to go about things in my own slow, measured way, and I’ve been mostly okay with that instead of ending up all Passoverwhelmed.

Yes, I know I’m the only person in the world who thinks Passoverwhelm* is funny. Just go with me on this one.

*Hat-tip to Cairene for introducing this word into my consciousness, where it quickly took up permanent residence.

Point being, I’m not as scattered as I’d imagined I would be, but my thoughts aren’t exactly coherent or anything either.

So I’m just going to think out loud a bit about what it means (for me) to clear things. Up. Out. It doesn’t matter. Just clearing.

There’s a lot of stuff to not like about being Jewish but at least you never end up with a five-year-old jar of pickles in your refrigerator.

That should totally be the title of a Woody Allen movie.

It’s so true though. Growing up, I had no patience for any of this. Not for the weeks of spring cleaning and definitely not for the general hysteria surrounding it.

The irony of being enslaved to a holiday that’s about freedom… I just didn’t get why any of it was really necessary.

And fine, I’m still not sure that it is. But I appreciate it so much more now than I ever did before.

The first time I was at someone’s house and discovered a bottle of something ancient in the refrigerator, I was baffled. How had this not gotten thrown out? WHAT ABOUT SPRING CLEANING?

All those years grappling with everything I don’t like about Judaism, fighting with tradition, arguing with identity… and I never stopped to appreciate something really, really important:

That you’ll never find anything in my refrigerator more than a year old. Small blessings. You take them where you can find them.

Symbolic clearing, part 1.

Since my hurt-ey arms don’t allow me to do as much scrubbing and scouring as I would normally deem necessary, I’ve been delegating like crazy to my gentleman friend and my brother.

But much more importantly, I’ve also been finding other ways to practice clearing out stuff that no longer needs to be there.

With some assistance on the clicking and deleting end, I took on the task of making sense of my web-browser-toolbar-bookmark thing.

Almost five years of bookmarking things on the computer … total chaos.

So I started with the goal not of making order or creating the perfect system or finishing this project, but just of symbolically clearing stuff out. If I could delete even a chunk of things that didn’t’t need to be there, that would be enough.

And each time something got deleted, I said “I don’t need you anymore. I’m making space in my life.”

This clearing out of bookmarks thing was so fascinating that it really deserves its own blog post.

For now I’ll just say that it was amazing to discover just how many things no longer exist. To see how advice I thought was totally biggified and impressive a couple years ago now seems completely boring and useless.

Anyway, we got twenty-two folders down to five. And eighty-something random uncategorized bookmarks down to seven.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Space. Even the symbolic kind. It just feels good.

Symbolic clearing, part 2.

This is the stuff I talk about here all the time. Interacting with walls. Having conversations with blocks and other stucknesses.

The internal kind of clearing.

There are so many ways to do it. And not just the “talking to your stuff” work that I do. Meditation. Yoga. The life-changingly great and completely bizarre epiphany-launching Dance of Shiva.

So yeah, it’s not just for Passover — I’m pretty much always doing internal symbolic clearing work.

But the kind of questions I’m asking myself now — especially in the context of my ever-changing relationship with time — are all coming out of the themes of this holiday:

What do I need to happen in order to move from a mindframe of bondage and rules to one of freedom?

How are the structures and boundaries of freedom different from what I know?

What needs to happen for me to appreciate the freedom I have?

What other experience of freedom is already inside of me that I haven’t been able to access yet?

If I know what needs to be done, what else am I waiting for?

My second-favorite Pesach memory.

We opened the bar late. Sometime between ten and eleven. Knowing that people would start to straggle in after the big family meal at some point.

Because it’s the first night of Pesach in Tel Aviv, where people can’t not go out and a lot of places are closed and come on, they have to go somewhere.

Just me and the manager, one of my closest friends at the time. You know that thing that happens when someone gets promoted to manager and turns into the world’s biggest asshat? It still hadn’t happened to him (yet), so we were still cool.

Anyway, it was just the two of us. No waitress. I was covering the bar and he was taking the kitchen.

We knew we’d be hanging out together until at least six in the morning when we closed, so it wasn’t like we needed to fill the space with conversation.

I was cleaning something. He was cleaning something. Johnny Cash in the background. All the space in the world. All the time in the world.

Just cleaning. And thinking. And waiting, but not impatiently. Knowing that any minute a door will open. A bell will ring. And there you are.

Apparently I don’t believe in free time.

So I’ve been doing a ridiculous amount of work lately on my complicated tangle of beliefs, experiences and patterns around Time.*

The feeling of “never enough”, the need for more, the lack of trust that this whole issue is going to get easier.

*Not capitalizing to be pretentious or anything! Just trying to draw attention to what a symbolic/thematic big deal it is for me right now.

Noticing.

There was that especially wacky meditation where I found a clock walled up inside of me (which then exploded, because a walled up clock isn’t trippy enough).

There was the session with Carolyn where we planted the idea that I’m allowed to have time for myself during the workday, which grew into my email sabbatical.

Then my hurting, unable-to-work arms spoke to me very clearly and said the following:

“You need your business to be a business. The kind that can run when you’re not there every second. Which it already can and you know it.

Enough treating it like it’s actually just another full-time job. Because we’re not getting better until you cut it out with the workaholism. So there.”

And I couldn’t even argue with them, because they were right.

So in addition to my own magic bag of tricks and techniques, I’ve also been getting coaching from Cairene. And more help from Carolyn and some wacky clearing-out-of-old-gunk from Hiro.

And learning even more about how I interact with time, how I think about it and how I treat it.

Hi, you must be my “I’m not allowed to have free time” block.

In my last Carolyn session we were talking about changes I could make to my schedule, and she asked what I would do if I had free time?

Free. Time.

The concept — in fact, just the combination of those two words into one united phrase — felt so foreign to me, so bizarre, that I couldn’t even really wrap my head around it.

Issues. I have some.

So I was (gently) poking around in my head, trying to figure out where this was coming from, and I found a couple of different fears to spend time with.

Fear #1: My fear of being a slacker.

Otherwise known as my fear of spending five years in a row doing nothing but staring at the wall and picking lint out of my belly button. Otherwise known as my fear of repeating the better part of my twenties.

Me: Whoah. Interesting. Okay, you’re totally allowed to be afraid of this if that’s what you’re feeling.
Fear: Uh-huh. I know.
Me: Um, can I just remind you though that we weren’t actually slacking off? We were just, you know, paralyzed by some seriously crippling perfectionism that kept us from even thinking about trying anything. Well, that and exhausted from working until 7 a.m. at the bar.
Fear: Whatever. Maybe. What’s important is that I need to keep that from ever happening again.
Me: Man, you are always trying to protect me. And I manage to forget that every single time.

Fear #2: My fear of abandoning my mission.

Me: Okay, that was almost creepy how fast that one went away. Hello, new fear. What’s your story?
New fear: I know you don’t like being a workaholic, but you just need to deal. Because you’re on a mission from god, much like in the Blues Brothers, only about a gazillion times more important. We can’t have you messing around here.
Me: Wow. I see we haven’t met yet. You’re pretty intense. Authoritative much?
New fear: You have to get your act together.

(Sound of me thinking ….)

Me: Let me see if I can reassure you a bit. I have enormous respect and love for my mission. I’m not going to abandon my mission.

You know what though? There isn’t going to be a mission if I get burnt out and lose my passion. And I can’t even do my mission effectively if what I end up modeling for people is self abuse instead of kindness.

The best way to protect the mission is by keeping me healthy and sane and well rested. The more time I take for myself, the higher quality my time is that I give to others.

(Sound of my fear thinking ….)

New fear: I see you’re pretty good at this authoritative thing too.
Me: So we’re cool? No way. Wow. Was that about a hundred times easier than last time or what? I’m astounded.

In which I receive some free time and don’t know what to do with it.

So that was last week.

Since then, I did some work with Jen Hofmann on creating a Non-Cheesy Healing Calendar for me, with a few experimental chunks of “free time” built in, and have gotten considerably more comfortable with the idea… at least in theory.

Then the other day I went to the one yoga class where I don’t need to use my arms, and it was canceled.

Bam! Instant free time.

No fear this time… but some internal dialogue:

Ooh! Free time! It’s happening! Ohmygosh!

I know! I could go sit in a café and write… oh wait, I can’t write because of my arms.

But I could sit on a bench or on the grass and write… no, I can’t actually.

Okay. There really isn’t anything I want to do that doesn’t involve writing in some form. in fact, writing is how I process things. It’s how I interact with things. It’s how I self-medicate. It’s how I sort out my thoughts and feelings.

And I really just need to be able to mourn that loss.

So I went for a walk.

And then I went and did some yoga at home.

And there was time for me. And it was actually uh … kind of freeing. So there!

Or at least, you know, close enough.

When “free” means that everyone loses.

So I was at a hippie-healing acupuncture-massage-chiro place. There are about a gazillion of those to choose from because, you know, welcome to Portland.

Waiting (of course).

Waiting for Chris, my massage therapist, who — for the record — is totally worth waiting for.

Anyway, I whiled away the time trying to rewrite (in my head) the piles and piles of ineffectual business cards at the counter.

Actually, they were so ridiculously bad that they were actually getting on my nerves.

To the point that I started worrying about turning into one of those asshat business guru-type people who are always going on about how “business is easy, if you just know how”.

And then you want to smack them because there is nothing more annoying than someone telling you something is easy when you can’t do it.

Here’s where it gets interesting.

I started chatting with the guy behind the counter to distract myself from my intense desire to careen around the room yelling “common sense, people… common sense!”

You need to listen to our conversation.

And if it doesn’t trigger a Moment of inspiration, understanding and bewilderment (like it did for me), you’re a smarter business person than I and you can skip the biggification posts and go straight to the wacky-ways-to-change-habits stuff.

“I just don’t really want to use my free massage until I need it.”

Me: Hey, so have you ever had a massage with Chris?
The guy: No, not yet. Should I?
Me: Ohmygod yes. Out of this world. He’s amazing.
The guy: Yeah, people seem to really like him. They don’t even mind that he’s always late. I should take him up on that free massage.
Me: You get a free massage? Awesome.
The guy: Well, I just don’t really want use my free massage until I need it, you know?

Whoah, whoah, whoah, what?!

Me: Wait, this is fascinating. I must know more. You get a free massage but you don’t want to use it. Talk to me about this.
The guy: Well, every healing practitioner who works here offers one free session to everyone who works at the front desk, to help us make recommendations about what’s best for people. You know, to let us experience their work so we can talk about it.
Me: Uh huh. Okay. That makes sense.
The guy: I know! It’s really great!
Me: So how many massages have you gotten?
The guy: One.
Me: Out of … what, fifteen? twenty?
The guy: Yeah. I kind of save them up until I really need them. That way, if I’m ever all sore or depressed or whatever, I could come here and get a free massage, which would be really cool.

In which I have a genius idea.

Me: So let me ask you something. If they didn’t give you a free massage, but instead you could get a massage with them for say, twelve dollars, would you do it?
The guy: Are you kidding? I’d have one right now. That’s a great deal.

And then try to understand it.

Me: So if it’s free, it’s something special and thus you have to save it until you’re ready for it… but if it costs twelve dollars, it’s (also) something special — but you’d go for it right away.
The guy: Yeah. You’re right. Weird, huh?
Me: With the free thing, you don’t want to use it up until you’re ready, but if it’s twelve dollars, you might actually have that on you and feel like a massage. Am I getting this right?
The guy: Absolutely.
Me: And is this just you? Or does everybody do this?
The guy: Oh, everybody. Hey guys! Do any of you use your free massages or do you save them until you really need them?
Everyone else: Confer, confer, confer
The guy: No, they don’t use them, but they would definitely go for a twelve dollar massage if they had twelve dollars that day.
Me: Someone should tell the massage therapists that.
The guy: Oh, I don’t know.

And then bring it to you.

Me: I am so going to write about this on my blog.
The guy: Huh? On your what?
Me: I’m going to go tell several thousand people about my great idea that you’re not going to use.

Let’s discuss. Not my genius idea, but the concept that free doesn’t always work.

Because it seems like there’s a lot more to say about what this weird truth means, why it is, and how you might apply it to whatever your thing is. I have thoughts.

Friday Check-in #35: “Playing chicken” edition

Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Seems like just last week we were figuring out what happened in our week — oh wait, we were. That’s tradition for you. 🙂

I’m ready for a weekend nap, but there’s still a good chunk of Friday left.

Since I’ll be running around like a madwoman this week, cleaning hysterically for Passover, this may be my last nap for a while. No, scratch that. I insist on napping. There will be napping. Amid the hysteria.

The hard stuff

Cranky!

One of the unfortunate side-effects of physical pain is that my annoyance threshold is perilously low.

Not that the things that are annoying me aren’t legitimately annoying, because they are, but I’m much less equipped to take them in stride.

I can’t tell if I’m less willing to take crap from people or if there’s just more of it, but …

It’s making me a little rant-ey.

Busy!

A lot going on in my business. A lot going on in my conscious, contemplative, complicated “healing process” thingamabob. A lot going on at home.

Add to that my constant requests for my brother or my gentleman friend to help me respond to comments here on the blog, or to scroll for me when I want to read something online …

It’s just hard right now.

The good stuff

Roller Derby!

A couple of killer all-star matches against Seattle, and I didn’t even lose my voice! Though it was close.

Our B all-star team — the “Axles of Annihilation” (!) — destroyed the Rat City B-team 150 to 88. Admittedly, the Seattle team also has a terrific name: “Rain of Terror”, but it didn’t help them.

The showdown between the Rose City Rollers all-stars “Wheels of Justice” and the “Rat City All Stars” was even more tense and agonizing and wonderful.

For one thing, it was the first league-sanctioned match between the two teams ever. Seattle had been ranked 6th nationally, and Portland 12th or so — depending who you asked. The final score was 148 to 134 for Portland. Upset!

Much screaming ensued. Now I have a couple of weeks to recover and get in shape for cheering again.

My duck has a new friend.

As you will recall, last week we had a visit (by iron horse) from my uncle Svevo.

chickenHe’s pretty much the best giver-of-presents that I know, so I wasn’t surprised by the jar of homemade pickled string beans or the gigantic bag of potbelly-stove-roasted walnuts.

But he also brought a special present for Selma. It’s a chicken. Not a real one. A toy wind-up chicken who lays vitamins. It’s all very confusing. My duck has a chicken. But it works. Somehow.

Big help for my arms.

I had an amazing craniosacral session with this woman named Cobalt, and it was astonishingly great. She got my arms to start talking to me again, and they’re giving me information like crazy. They still hurt. But at least we’re talking.

Then I was working with Carolyn and her fantastic PSYCH-K stuff. And for the first time, I’m really hopeful and even excited about the changes that are being forced into existence through this experience.

Will share more about this later. Yay! End of tunnel ahoy.

Big crazy system changes.

I’ve brought someone in to work with me at home. Which is crazy, because I’m used to working with virtual assistants and never seeing anyone.

But I need someone to click for me and scroll for me and be another set of hands. It’s forcing me to be super-focused, extra-structured, and just plow through things that need to be done.

So I’m loving it. Loving the systematizing, loving the routine, loving the genius ideas we’re coming up with. Again, we can talk more about this later. For now I’ll just say that this is miraculous and I’m full of new energy for my work.

And … STUISMS of the week.

Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who takes pleasure in misunderstanding me.

Some of the gems from this week:

  • “energetic a little” instead of energetical
  • “Procrastination Dissolvable medic” instead of Dissolve-o-Matic
  • “prayer geezer” instead of priorities
  • “The Smart Mrs.” instead of smartnesses
  • “it’s about being president” instead of It’s about being present
  • “Dana the Spacey Princess!” instead of Dana the Spicy Princess
  • “We can hang out on torture” and “We can hang out on tour there” instead of We can hang out on Twitter
  • “By the fact that Africa” instead of by the fact that I freak out
  • “Emergency Combing Techniques” instead of Emergency Calming Techniques

But I find Stu’s delightful Freudian slips even more powerful embarrassing:

  • “If I let go of my anchor” instead of if I let go of my anger
  • “In the heart” instead of in the hard

Come on, Stu. Stop revealing the inner workings of my subconscious, you acetyl!

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.

Item! I have opinions and recommendations!

Fluent Self Item!A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.

Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.

Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.

Guilty admission: today’s Item! items (man, I love saying that — item items!) are pretty long, all considering. But there aren’t very many of them.

Selma and I have been missing these mini-bitlets collection-of-good-stuff types of posts, now that the hurt-ey arms mean we hardly ever prowl the internets looking for good stuff.

But it seemed like a good way to counteract the latest cycle of ranting followed by personal disclosure followed by ranting and then some more personal disclosure.

Plus, good stuff to read! Good people to start obsessively stalking following and paying attention to! Stuff like that.

Warning: it’s an Item! post. There will be exclamation points. Apologies in advance.

Item! Post No. 15 in an ongoing occasionally-updated unpredictable series that also confuses me, so don’t worry about it.

Item! They named a cafe after my duck!

Well, not really.

But they could have. It will happen one day. You should peek.

A cafe named Selma. Beautiful pictures. Myra Klarman, sweet goofball genius with a camera. What’s not to like?

Item! Thoughts about love and communication and stuff.

Two posts I really appreciated. Both from Kate, whom I finally got to meet in person last week, about a day before she headed back to England.

And she’s absolutely lovely, and next time I hope we’ll get to spend a lazy afternoon alone in a quiet cafe together because we are both decidedly not group-interaction people and our first meeting happened in a large group.

Kate did her introvert-in-a-large-group thing: get really quiet.

I did my introvert-in-a-large-group thing: be obnoxiously charming and tell stories and ask questions and play with my hair so no one will notice that I am an introvert and now I have to interact with a group.

I don’t mean to say that it wasn’t a thoroughly enjoyable evening because it absolutely was and every single person there was wonderful, and I would do it again in a second.

Just that Kate and I definitely need to spend some quality time together when we’re not knee deep in our own patterns and other distractions.

Anyway … long introduction aside, here’s what you should be reading.

Her post on faith, love and doing I thought was very powerful. And this one about communication and the different ways it can go horribly wrong made a fantastic point in a memorable I-get-this-now sort of way. Plus she talks about one of my favorite communication books. Worth a read.

Item! This is my new favorite blog and it’s going to be yours too!

I am loving my friend Janet Bailey’s new Mindful Time Management blog. I’ve been getting on her case waiting excitedly for her to start this thing much the same way that Kelly Parkinson did with me when I started mine.

Not because I’m her friend but because I really, really need the stuff she writes about.

Janet is one of my favorite people ever.

She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s just the right amount of neurotic … and she thinks deeply and carefully about how we interact with our time, where we get stuck and what we might be able to do about it.

I don’t even know which post to link to because they’re all great, but start with the one about pre-deadlines and thinking differently about motivation and make sure you also read the power of the split screen (which is a terrific technique that I’m going to adopt myself as soon as I can type again).

Item! You should spend more time putting crackers on your head!

It’s no secret that I adore Sparky Firepants aka David Billings. That’s Mr. Pants to you. Well, to me. I think I’m the only one who calls him that.

And I finally got to meet him in person too. He came into town and my gentleman friend and I got to spend a lazy late afternoon with him.

I thought this post of his called Be Your Own Bot was fascinating. And moving. And completely thought-provoking. As in, my thoughts! They are still being provoked! I heart Mr. Pants.

Here’s a tiny bit of it:

“It’s funny. We start out in life weird little creatures who put crackers on our heads and yell, “Ga-ZOO ZOO!” just because it strikes us as something we should probably do. We fall down and stay there. Just felt like it. We wear socks on our hands.

As we grow up, other people start defining for us what’s weird and what shouldn’t be done anymore in social situations. It’s not a Shakespearean tragedy. It’s part of life and it’s learning how to function in a world full of people who hesitate to give us money or jobs if we break crackers on our heads. Still, it’s sad to put our crackers away.

You want to keep reading, right?

And while you’re there — if you’re at all someone who appreciates visual gorgeousness and creativity — you should sign up for his Sparky Firepants Monthly Images club and marvel at both his illustrations and his incredible generosity in giving one of them away each month.

Item! Portland is America’s 3rd least wasteful city! Or something.

When I first moved to Portland, the only thing I didn’t madly love about it was the crazy pride.

Seriously, it rivals New York and San Francisco for “ohmygod-we’re-so-great”-ness. Except that, you know, it’s not either of those places or even something that would be mentioned in the same league.

But now I’m part of the cult, organic koolaid and all. And I no longer find it as embarrassing as it probably is.

And one of the many, many things I love about living here is that I’m not the big hippie anymore. The people in my neighborhood are also into composting and growing their own vegetables and eating local, sustainable food and collecting rainwater.

It’s no longer weird here — or even interesting — that we make our own yogurt and cheese, or that we don’t drive or that we boycott box stores. Because it’s Portland.

So it was fun reading this yay, we’re doing it right piece. And thanks to @RyanJLewis who linked to this on Twitter on a day when I was feeling depressed about the general state of the world.

Item! I’m recommending a web designer! Are you her Right People?

I know I already talked about Kate in the first Item! today, but I was on her site and remembered how much I like both her work and her attitude. And her copy.

And since people are always asking me for website design recommendations (and since I don’t generally like to send people to my designer because he’s busy and because I want him to charge enough that you probably won’t be able to afford him) …

… let me mention Kate and her work, which is gorgeous.

And very affordable.

Yes, the number of people who won’t listen to me about raising their prices is astonishing. So you should really hire her before my brilliant logic convinces her.

Here’s what she says on her own website:

I create websites for small businesses and groups, and specialise in socially responsible businesses and alternative or spiritual ventures. Holistic therapists, alternative practitioners, quirky creatives, people forging careers out of hobbies; I love to work with anyone with a dream!

I firmly believe anyone can have a professional, affordable website, and love to help people get their first home on the web.

If that sounds like your thing, take a look.

Item! Black Hockey Jesus!

Yet again the star of my reading-stuff-online life.

I don’t miss a single post he writes on his provocatively-titled genius blog. And I continue to admire him and his funny, bittersweet wordishness.

Actually, I think the word bittersweet was invented for him because everything he writes contains both of those qualities in equal measures.

His piece Frogs is a wonderful musing on blogging itself (the world and the process), as well as a sweet example of how it’s possible be kind, funny, thoughtful, snarky, compassionate, sarcastic, wise and hurting … all at the same time.

And the one about his daughter’s obsession with weiners is one of the funniest essays on parenthood (and identity in general) that I’ve read.

Keep him company.

That is all.

This was way longer than I intended.

Happy reading. Happy Thursday. See you tomorrow for the Friday Chicken!