Years past, when I wrote everyday, I had a clearer sense of who I was writing to. Amidst the turmoil surrounding, real or imagine, I found refuge in writing to as yet unknown twins of spirt, the people I had longed to hear from my whole life. Having found a few of these, the need to write outward to the clear unknown has dimmed. I'm caught between the arrogance implicit in even assuming that someone else will read these words and the guilt of not using a gift I've been praised for. At times, the clamor of my imagined crowd...

I've heard it said many times that I shouldn't "let other me people rent space in my head." It's one of them pithy sayings that sounds immediately true and helpful, but ultimately ends up being wrong. It's wrong because it's nearly impossible. The tasks and the worries that swirl around my brain usually center themselves on other people, usually when I'm imagining a phone call where that person says the thing I fear. We're nearly always working on something that ultimately hinges on what people think of it, so by working, we're imagining our audience's reaction. Some are able to...

Too often our to-do lists become all we see. We wake thinking of what needs doing. We fall to sleep with worry over what's unfinished. Through the day, we're reminded of this or that little task around the house or office. We become what we do. As children, we had pretty much one goal in mind ... "let's play." Young kids are in the moment. They're connected with their surroundings. Their work is exploration and making memories and having fun. As adults, we still have this choice. We can get off the hamster wheel, if only for a while, and...