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I’ve removed the bedding from the green-and-tan dome tent that I used last night in my Portland, Oregon backyard. And I’ve just brought my favorite,

For months since Emmett got his driver’s license, I haven’t understood why he doesn’t just drive. He knows how, after all. This short article will

My son, age 12, walked me face-first into a telephone pole. I forgave him. This is a story about forgiveness, acceptance, and understanding. The family

0 Likes   Beloved reader,     Today’s newsletter is not a story with a moral, nor is it a lesson, nor is it some

In article 17/40—Hey, I love You—I divulged my penchant for phoning friends for no reason other than to just connect. Here’s another story that follows

********   A long narrative based in my first year of rabbinical school    ******** Jerusalem, 1993 Most of my classmates claim two qualities I

  ******** My book manuscript is currently with the literary agent. I’m anxious about it and its future. This article set in 1986 is about

Dr. Wayne Dyer: “I can choose peace rather than this.” Good for him. –             Part 1 Los Angeles. Early morning,

Marching toward loving my inner critic. A few articles ago, I told you about playing Christmas carols on my horn in Kim’s garage. At that

I stand at the front of a diverse group of teens sitting in a well air-conditioned classroom of Pasadena High school. I point to the

**LESSON ONE** Imagine we are not exactly where we are, but instead, we are in some cosmic music academy—a large, beautiful room filled with the

On this Tuesday night, more than a hundred people have each ponied up fifteen bucks each to see the premiere of a one-man show I’ve

Attuned      It’s a few weeks before Christmas.   Kim, my enthusiastic French horn teacher, has gathered all the Portland horn players she knows

It’s Saturday evening. Jane and the kids are out. I’m sitting contentedly on the tan Eames chair. Dinking around on my phone. I notice a