Spirit in the Sky

On Facebook Marketplace, I thread the needle. It’s the art of lowballing unapologetically, with a “don’t shoot the messenger” white flag waving in the breeze. I’ve already told you—people overvalue what they have. Which means my undervaluing it doesn’t exactly set the tone for a graceful first move on the dance floor. Their inevitable “HowContinue reading “Spirit in the Sky”

A Backyard Boil Blunder

Dave considered declining, then turned to me and asked, “Want to go to a crawfish boil?”The invite came from two doors down. A friend of theirs—who owns a 500-acre property just eight minutes away—was throwing a party. Maybe it was their way of reciprocating after politely declining our offer for their daughter to come swim.Continue reading “A Backyard Boil Blunder”

Startle Me and Soothe Me

Some clients come to counseling sessions with bulleted or numbered lists—reminders of what they want to touch on. “If we have time, I’d like to get to…” they’ll say, and off we go. For this post, I’m doing the same.Here’s what’s on my mind: Let’s begin. 1. The Scream Apparently, I’ve inherited my grandma’s shrillContinue reading “Startle Me and Soothe Me”

The Wisdom in the Sway

I dreamt of seeing a Luna Moth. That creamy, lime-green goddess I’d only glimpsed in pictures felt more like a celestial body or a four-leaf clover—something you admire from afar but never expect to meet. With its nocturnal habits and adult lifespan of only 7–10 days, I never imagined catching a glimpse of one inContinue reading “The Wisdom in the Sway”

Choosing Who We Let In

Today was bittersweet. My decade-plus-long friendship with Peter led to, for the first time, talking to his long-time partner and wife, Susanna. She told me about the final moments—how he chose his date and time to take the death-with-dignity medication. The intimacy of it: their prayers for one another, her heaving a painful sigh atContinue reading “Choosing Who We Let In”

A Faire to Remember

“Am I Jesus?” Evelyn asked, her cantaloupe-sized melon poking out from a wooden cutout. It was the third hole she’d posed in —the first being a busty Viking woman, followed by a classic head-and-hand stockade.“No, you’re the Mona Lisa,” I told her, mildly surprised at her somewhat close guess despite our lack of religious leanings.Continue reading “A Faire to Remember”