2 Minute Read
In which I revisit a sixty-year-old ritual, relived thirty years later and soon to be repeated, as I once again consider Hippocrates’ admonition to declare the past, diagnose the present, and foretell the future.
Personal and Professional Assays of Bias
In which I revisit a sixty-year-old ritual, relived thirty years later and soon to be repeated, as I once again consider Hippocrates' admonition to declare the past, diagnose the present, and foretell the future. (more…)
Altered thoughts, recalibrated feelings, adjusted motivations, and redefined beliefs can be immersively practiced; and, if practiced, made perfect. (more…)
In which I continue to consider the Paradigm Cards placed face down on the table of life. (more…)
The proper aim of life, even at its least creative, is handwritten on a secret card placed face down on the table before we draw our first breath. Our mothers, however, by some undiscoverable trick of love and light, seem always to know each word on the underside of not just their own card but of ours as well. (more…)
This post began as a 50-year flashback to a day on the ski slopes brought forward by current reports of record snowfall in the Rocky Mountains. But instead of ending there, it kicked up an avalanche of loosely coupled ideas—a few of them not so flakey—about why we do what we do. (more…)
This post is my first in a parade of coming metaphors circumvolving the idea of transformation: Being and Change is a U-tube. But what is a U-tube when it's at home? (more…)
I'll gladly give you a career tomorrow for a job today. (more…)
In which I restore a forgotten nuance of a blessed life. (more…)
The car strikes the boy still running, in the upper leg, with a force that must have felt to him like a truck. I watch in slow motion as 318 horses of police-cruiser tensile steel toss his rag-doll body twenty feet through the air toward the spot where a split second earlier, I was bone-certain there was going…
In which I commit to becoming the stranger I wish to meet in the world. (more…)
2 Minute Read
In which I revisit a sixty-year-old ritual, relived thirty years later and soon to be repeated, as I once again consider Hippocrates’ admonition to declare the past, diagnose the present, and foretell the future.
9 Minute Read
Altered thoughts, recalibrated feelings, adjusted motivations, and redefined beliefs can be immersively practiced; and, if practiced, made perfect.
11 Minute Read
In which I continue to consider the Paradigm Cards placed face down on the table of life.
7 Minute Read
The proper aim of life, even at its least creative, is handwritten on a secret card placed face down on the table before we draw our first breath. Our mothers, however, by some undiscoverable trick of love and light, seem always to know each word on the underside of not just their own card but of ours as well.
8 Minute Read
This post began as a 50-year flashback to a day on the ski slopes brought forward by current reports of record snowfall in the Rocky Mountains. But instead of ending there, it kicked up an avalanche of loosely coupled ideas—a few of them not so flakey—about why we do what we do.
7 Minute Read
This post is my first in a parade of coming metaphors circumvolving the idea of transformation: Being and Change is a U-tube. But what is a U-tube when it’s at home?
4 Minute Read
This post was mostly written by a computer scientist/physicist friend of mine, Ken Ritley, and his favorite AI. It took me all of two minutes to sprinkle about my contribution to Ken’s dialog with a machine. Judge for yourself which of its three authors speaks to you.
11 Minute Read
In which I pose the question to anyone who stopped (or started) something because of the Pandemic: Have you now restarted (or stopped) it?
11 Minute Read
Or How I Inadvertently—and Then Intentionally—Impersonated a Secret Service Agent at a Special Preview of The Phantom of the Opera.
< 1 Minute Read
In which I recommend the restoration of a changeful idea.
7 Minute Read
In which I restore a forgotten nuance of a blessed life.
11 Minute Read
In which I commit to becoming the stranger I wish to meet in the world.
9 Minute Read
The car strikes the boy still running, in the upper leg, with a force that must have felt to him like a truck. I watch in slow motion as 318 horses of police-cruiser tensile steel toss his rag-doll body twenty feet through the air toward the spot where a split second earlier, I was bone-certain there was going to be an accident.