I signed up for the May run streak through Still I Run, a group dedicated to promoting running for mental health. It felt like the right alignment—both symbolically and practically. I’ve long believed in the therapeutic power of running, and I’ve seen it firsthand in my own life. Running has helped me manage grief, stress, and the weight of days I didn’t think I could get through.

Yesterday, we took a bold leap and purchased our first truly new car in 20 years. In a world where we've often settled for “gently pre-loved” rides, this shiny newcomer felt as rare as finding a parking spot at a packed mall on a Saturday. Yet, amid the thrill, the entire process was as surreal as watching a political debate where everyone actually listens to each other.

I wrote this 4 years ago and have not posted it here yet. It seems to match the season. There are words I hear in life that are always associated with memories of a person, place, or thing. The word "Pączki" always makes me think of my first real friend, Steven. I am a naturally gregarious person. Today, I can drop into any city in the world, and within hours, I will be in a conversation with strangers.

Beware, Oh CriticYou wield a double edge swordDo not cut yourself Harassment brings new insight.In other words bring it on.   You found the mistake. I truly have miscountedI must now repent Traditional response isseven seven called Tonka  Haiku is your formThat leads you through perfect doorsTaking you to heights. Words are my fabric…

As we step into January, it’s essential to remember that many of us are navigating similar emotions and experiences. In this time of reflection and remembrance, we’re reminded that we are not alone in our struggles. Each of us carries our own unique burdens, and sharing our stories can help lighten the load. This month, I find myself engaged in a personal journey, grappling with the complex feelings that arise from both loss and the desire to embrace life once more.

It has been a while since I posted something. I have yet to get out of the funk I have been in lately. Don't worry; I am doing the work and will persevere. Here is something I posted in August of 2017, around the time the white nationalists gathered in Emancipation Park in Charlottesville, Virginia, before a rally organized by a group known as "Unite the Right." The rally’s purpose was to protest the removal of a statue honoring Confederate Gen.

January 1 can be one of the most challenging days of the year for me. I navigate through it, focusing on self-care and healing. I start every year with a 5k race, I surround myself with friends or activites I find reinvigerating, I try not to be too demanding of myself. I do the things you would expect a psychologist to do when depressed.

I find myself struggling to gather my thoughts, yet I feel an urgent need to articulate what's swirling around in my mind today, even if it comes out jumbled and fragmented. It has been three years since the world lost Winter, and each year feels heavier than the last. I initially wrote, "since I lost Winter," but that phrasing feels woefully inadequate to encapsulate the depth of our loss.

It's a strange day. On the one hand, it's the family Christmas party, so there's a good thing there. It's always a good time with the in-laws, but Peggy won't be here. On the other hand, I was working on my blog this morning when I came across an old open letter from 2012 to friends. I am rereading all the old stuff as I post it, and this one hit me.

This article that I wrote in 2011 was published in Magnificat: a journal of undergraduate nonfiction at Marymount University when I was a student there. On September 11th, 2001, I stood in the Pentagon as the room around me was engulfed in flames. The shock of that event and the deaths of 26 of my coworkers are with me most days of my life.

The quality of sand & What is good in life Back when I was at DLI, a few friends and I would go on what we called "the walk and talk." Whenever drama reared its head, one would tell the other let's walk. For me, this was usually Ryan or Goldy. During these walks along the coastline between Monterey and Pacific Grove, we would hash out whatever was on our minds.

I wrote this for an undergraduate English class in 2005 Marriage Another Saturday night, I sat at home and asked myself where I had gone wrong. I had tried again to persuade my wife to spend some time with me, arguing my point quite passionately. In the end, she walked out the door dressed to make men notice and headed for her favorite dance club.

Lucky The Voice called out to him from beyond the light, as he sat in the tiny room sweating, trying to remember all that had happened. “Please state your name, rank, and social security number for the record, soldier. “, the Voice repeated. “Um Private First Class Lucky 478-69-9540, Sir” he croaked, in a dry, weak voice. The Voice followed with another question,” What is your…

Back in high school, I set a goal: I wanted to run a marathon before I turned 30. However, as time passed, my passion for running faded. In 2005, the thought crossed my mind again—I told myself I would accomplish it before I turned 50. Unfortunately, running became challenging once more. But over the last two years, I've rekindled my relationship with running in a way that ensures I'll keep at it for as long as I can.

If all goes as planned, I will be in Florida this morning.But I scheduled this to post then. It is the last of my pieces from 2004. This is a small piece of fiction for a play-by-email roleplaying game. The main character is an art thief and a vampire from the popular Vampire the Masquerade game. Jeremy ___________________________________________________________________________ Clip Clip, Clip Clip went the sheers as a lone gardener tended a new…

Today is my beloved bride's birthday, and we are both traveling. I am at least doing something fun; I am in Cape Canaveral running the Space Force 10-miler with a friend. So, I scheduled this to post today. The first 3 lines are a Haiku I wrote in 2005 about the night I proposed to Peggy. But I have added two lines to transform this into a tanka that spans 19 years.

The night before a race, I always make it a point to load my gear and adjust my bib, especially when I’ve traveled a distance to compete. This ritual is rooted in my experience with ADHD—I thrive in environments that are either chaotic or highly structured. Race day tends to bring a mix of both, so having everything ready in advance allows me to easily add any last-minute essentials up until it’s time to head to the start line.

I wrote this for school, and up untill 2022 I stood by it. Now I might contrive a way to keep my daugter home that night. I want to point out that other than that one event I would travel in time and observe if given the chance. But strictly observe. The assignment was to answer this. If you were given the power to go back in time and change any one event, with the stipulation that you would be stuck back there.

Role-playing games I wrote this in 2004 as an assignment for school. In April of 2002, I rushed to the bookstore to see my name in print; I was now a professional writer. Having just been paid and published for the first time, I was excited. I wanted to show someone, but I was embarrassed because I had written for a genre so taboo in certain circles that I had to come up with clever names for it in order to add it to my resume.

One Ring to Destroy Us All, Facial-Recognition Crystal Balls, or Hogwarts School of Ethical Wizardry? Technology is the magic of today, and its proper use or development raises many ethical questions. If misused, some modern magic could destroy the planet. Conversely, stopping these developments would be an infringement of civil liberties that could rival George Orwell’s Big Brother in “1984.” Modern philosophers argue about the proper path to follow, while authors of fantasy paint pictures of how things might be.

The morning of September 11, 2001, started differently for me. Little did I know how intensely the events to follow would test my mettle. Craig and I had been running an errand over at Fort Myer and arrived at the office about two hours late. As I sat at my desk, I heard a morning radio show saying that a plane had just struck the first tower of the World Trade Center in New York City.