Every once in a while we have a moment. Sometimes it’s dramatic and loud, hitting us like a ton of bricks. Other times it’s subtle and quiet, and its impact seeps into our lives over the days, months, and years that follow. But something changes in us. Recently one morning I was playing guitar. I was deep into an idea, working through different parts of an arrangement, completely absorbed in the process. Time was an afterthought. It was just me and the notes, the sounds, the

Minimalism, Letting Go, and the Road to Becoming Recently, an old friend of mine asked me to play the 30-Day Minimalism game . The rules are simple: Day one: Remove one thing you don’t need. Day two: Remove two more things. Day three: Three more. And so on. You can donate, sell, give stuff away to friends, or just throw it away. Continue for thirty days. At the time we began this challenge, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed in my life. So the idea of removing "extra stuff" to

Recently I was feeling particularly anxious. It was not just in my head, it was in my bones… It was not just one thing, it was a hundred problems that felt bigger than I was. All at once. The fear and anxiety had built up inside me… until I just felt paralyzed. “How did I become such a chicken?” I thought.  Yet in the midst of feeling petrified, a silly thought occurred to me - why am I comparing myself to a chicken? And how did chickens become associated with fear anyway?  

What is "the ugly truth?" Ask five people, and you'll get five different answers. Google AI tells me it's "a harsh reality that is...