Wood You Like To Learn?

77% Weekly Newsletter

Wood You Like To Learn?

I walk through the house to the front porch holding a piece of wood that needs to be smoothed out and then installed in the kitchen drawer.
As I pass my 15-year-old daughter, I ask, “Do you want to learn how to sand?”
She does not.
And that’s fine.
Learning about methodically, in a circular motion, progressing from coarse to fine grits, to achieve a smooth, even finish isn’t of interest to her today.

She asks me when she wants help–like she asked for help when she and her friends were setting up a spreadsheet so they could keep tabs on their babysitting business.
She doesn’t need to learn about sanding right now. (Or ever, I guess.)

It’s amazing how adults mistakenly think they are, by virtue of their age, authorized to instruct those younger in a curriculum they deem important.

We need to be careful before we just assume everyone wants to learn what we want to teach.

That being said, I’ve got some wisdom about acceptance, forgiveness, and patience that I’m glad to share.
Rabbi Brian’s Highly Unorthodox Gospel (available now, exclusively on Kickstarter) is a great (and fun) place to learn about kindness, compassion, and love.

Refractory Anxiety

I am supposed to arrive at the wedding rehearsal at 4 p.m. I planned on arriving 15–20 minutes early. Because I don’t like being late. However, I took a wrong turn. At the intersection of the I-5 South and the I-405 South, I went the wrong way. Now, I’ll have to turn around in a mile and a half and

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No words. No words.

To offset our discomfort about our upcoming visit to the Terezín (in German: Theresienstadt) concentration camp/ghetto, Emmett and I fall into making dark jokes. Gallows humor. “Do you think they still give free tattoos upon arrival?” “Want to wear matching pajamas for our tour?” Dark, ugly jokes.  Because reality is just too overwhelming. The feelings are too overwhelming. So we

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Has anyone seen my keys?!

Jane and the kids misplace keys. Not me. I don’t. I always return my key to the keyrack. That’s where they go. When the key isn’t on the hook, which happens from time to time, I find it on some surface in the house. Usually, the kitchen table. Then, without fanfare, I pick it up, hang it up, and restrain

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77% Weekly Newsletter
77% Weekly Newsletter