The page is a cliff. You approach it with trepidation, wary of the fall, uncertain of the distance or the landing. The solid ground of not-writing below your feet, and the sheer drop, a wave of cold air, then… nothing. How can it be a daily practice, this throwing...

“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” Such a modest, yet all-out ambition. You don’t need a bigger light, someone else’s light, a best-selling light, a more commercial light, a light that will let you quit your job, a light that outshines someone else’s...

Listen! Listen to the small sounds of the early quiet: dog lapping at the water, heater rising to greet the turning of the seasons, refrigerator’s low hum. Listen again, deeper, listen into the beat and pause of the words within you. The rhythm coming through your...

For setting yourself racing against time, against the speed of your thoughts tumbling through, pouring in granular, perpetual motion. Go.  Q is for Quixotic, for following dreams and scooping up whims, guesses, ideals, possibilities. Harnessing your attention to...