Recognizing Myself, Again

A year ago, I wrote these words of hope on the eve of my 45th birthday …

I look down at my hand and wonder what it will look like in another 45 years. Will it recite the stories of my hard work? Will it show the lines of caring for those I love? Will it tell me that I’ve done my best? Will it look like the hand of the man, the human, I want to be?

I sit here on the day of my 46th, knowing that I didn’t do my best at 45. I wasn’t the human I wanted to be. I let circumstance and the actions of others control me. I let anger and frustration get the best of me. From the grand stage of national news to the most intimate moments of my personal life, most of my year was spent in reaction instead of intent. I felt like a prize fighter swinging out of desperation, punch drunk by a volley of shots to the head, unsure if my corner of retreat existed any longer.

I no longer saw the future clearly. Continue reading →

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Finding My Voice in We the People

In the weeks following the presidential election, I felt unhinged. I tried to find my words in posts about being an ally and being told I wasn’t doing enough. My daily stress levels, partially self-inflicted, were unsustainable. I walked away from social media because I couldn’t see straight through the fear that saturated my feeds.

I needed some quiet.

I needed to be quiet.

I needed to let the silence answer a question for me. Where do I go from here? How do I find my voice in our national discourse? Continue reading →

The Code

I wrote 12 words on a chalkboard on my bedroom wall. They are the 12 words I see each morning when I open my eyes, before I speak, before I reach for my phone to check in with the world.

THE CODE. These words, imperfectly scribbled by my own hand, are a reflection of not only who I am, but more importantly what I aspire to be. They are my intent. My values. My ground truth. Continue reading →