Category: Essays

  • Things Aren’t Always the Way They Seem: What Christians Should Know About NAR, Trump, and the Danger of False Prophets



    We’re living in strange and dangerous days. Many people are wrapping political power in religious language — and millions are being deceived. As a Christian who reads the Bible daily, I feel compelled to speak plainly about a movement many have never heard of: The New Apostolic Reformation (NAR).

    A Story We Thought We Knew

    In the 1950s, Jim Jones founded the People’s Temple in Indiana. Many remember the horrific ending — more than 900 people died in Jonestown, Guyana. But fewer remember how it began.

    Jones started by preaching racial integration, feeding the poor, and advocating for the marginalized. His early work attracted political allies in California: George Moscone, Harvey Milk, and others. He mobilized thousands of volunteers and earned himself political appointments. And yet, behind the scenes, it was a manipulative, paranoid, and ultimately deadly cult.

    People wanted to believe in something. They were scared, vulnerable, and hungry for connection. Cults feed on this need. And today, it’s happening again.



    A New Movement, Same Deception

    Stephanie McCrummen recently wrote an eye-opening piece in The Atlantic titled Army of God. She describes the rise of a charismatic Christian movement called the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) — now sweeping across American churches and politics. If you haven’t heard of NAR yet, you’re not alone. But it’s real — and it’s deeply dangerous.

    NAR’s message is mystical, emotional, utopian, and fiercely political. At its core, it preaches that we are in a spiritual war: God vs. Satan, good vs. evil — with little room for nuance or debate. Roughly 40% of American Christians, including many Catholics, have embraced elements of this movement. And Donald Trump saw this as fertile ground for political power.

    What starts as “spiritual warfare” too often ends in frightening justification for violence and lawlessness — as we saw on January 6th. Some called that attack God’s will. Some still do.

    Things aren’t always the way they seem.



    The Bible Is Clear — But Many Don’t Read It

    I’ve been part of churches that promoted this kind of thinking. Everything becomes a spiritual battle. But when you step back, you realize: the fruit doesn’t match the tree.

    People in these movements often excuse behavior that flatly contradicts biblical teaching: lying, cheating, adultery, pride, greed, and cruelty. Some even compare Trump to King David, or claim, “If God could use a donkey, He can use Donald Trump.” That’s not sound theology — it’s desperate rationalization.

    The test is simple: If what you’re being told violates clear biblical teaching, don’t believe it. Don’t even take my word for it — open your Bible and read it for yourself.

    Jesus didn’t teach lust for power. He didn’t bless dishonesty. He didn’t celebrate greed or mock the weak. Yet that is exactly what too many so-called “Christian leaders” and politicians are doing today, while millions cheer them on.

    Things aren’t always the way they seem.



    This Is Not Normal

    Look at the facts:

    • A president convicted of 34 felonies, facing even more charges conveniently delayed.
    • A movement that calls anyone who disagrees “the enemy.”
    • Politicians who once condemned Trump as a danger now grovel at his feet.
    • Allies like Putin and Viktor Orbán elevated while our friends in Europe, Canada, and Mexico are mocked.
    • Science denied, history rewritten, cruelty normalized.
    • Leaders who claim Christian values while embracing open corruption: pride, greed, adultery, deception, cruelty, and the endless pursuit of personal power.
    • Self-appointed “basement prophets” with no accountability, no church, no spiritual oversight — broadcasting wild visions on social media and gathering followers hungry to believe anything.

    This is not normal. This is not godly. And this is not Christianity.




    The Bible Has Seen It All Before

    Open the book of Chronicles. You’ll see kings who defied God, false prophets who misled nations, conspiracies that led to destruction. These patterns repeat — because human nature hasn’t changed.

    Many cry “Lord, Lord,” but do not know Him. Many wrap themselves in religious language while leading people astray. That’s not new — but the consequences are just as devastating today as they were thousands of years ago.



    Be Discerning

    Before you call yourself a Christian, check what the Bible says. Read Jesus’ words. Compare them to the behavior you’re seeing. If you’re hearing lies, rage, cruelty, and self-worship, you’re not hearing Christ.

    Disagree on politics — fine. Debate economic policy — fine. But don’t confuse political power with God’s kingdom.

    And as I often say: Things aren’t always the way they seem.


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  • Forget About It! (No, Really… It’s Probably Normal)

    A reassuring guide to everyday memory lapses in aging—and how to stop stressing about them



    In the last month alone, I’ve lost count of how many times an older friend or family member has said something like, “Ugh, my memory is shot!” It’s usually followed by a nervous laugh or a quiet fear about dementia. And if you’ve ever forgotten a name, walked into a room with no idea why, or blanked on something mid-sentence—you know the feeling.

    Here’s the truth: forgetting stuff now and then is normal. Really.

    As we age, our brains—like our knees, backs, and energy levels—don’t work quite the same. But that doesn’t mean something is wrong. Most of the time, it just means we’re human.


    What’s Normal (and What’s Not)

    Let’s be clear:

    • If you can’t remember what you walked into the room for? Normal.
    • If you forget where you parked at the grocery store? Normal.
    • If you blank on the name of someone you just met? Still normal.

    Now—if you can’t remember where you live, how to pay your bills, or forget daily medications repeatedly, that’s different. That’s when it’s time to speak to your doctor.

    But for the majority of us? Everything is fine.


    Tips to Stay Calm When Your Mind Blanks

    Keep going
    If a word won’t come, just roll with it:
    “I can’t recall her name right now, but…”
    “I forget which country it was, but…”
    Keep your story moving. Most people won’t care—and you’ll stay in the flow.

    Don’t dwell on it
    Getting flustered only makes things worse. Let it go and move forward with confidence.

    Be kind—to yourself and others
    I recently spoke with a sharp, older family member who was upset that she kept forgetting words. “I used to be so smart,” she said. It broke my heart. Please remind yourself—and the people you love—that occasional forgetfulness is age-appropriate.


    Easy Tools That Can Help

    • Use a whiteboard
      Stick one on your fridge. Use the top half for appointments and the bottom half for groceries or reminders. It’s one central spot—and forming the habit of writing things down in the same place can make a huge difference.
    • Use your phone
      Add dates to your calendar immediately. Use your Notes app for quick ideas, reminders, or info you don’t want to forget.
    • Keep things simple and consistent
      Leave keys in the same spot. Keep your medication in the same place. These small systems reduce brain clutter. Routine is good for memory recall.
    • Mind your health
      Eating well, getting enough sleep, and moving your body all support healthy memory. (You’ve heard this before. It’s still true.)
    • Watch the substances
      Regular use of alcohol or cannabis can affect memory performance. This isn’t judgment—it’s just fact. If you’re noticing more mental fog, it’s worth a look.
    • Stick to the story
      Going off on long tangents can cause you to lose your train of thought. Try to stay on topic and return to your main point when needed.

    Bottom Line: Let Yourself Off the Hook

    Aging isn’t just about what we forget—it’s about what we’ve gained: perspective, resilience, and a lifetime of lived experience.

    You’ve earned your wisdom. You’ve built a rich life. Don’t let a missed word or a mental hiccup take away your confidence.
    So take a deep breath. Laugh if you can. And remember:
    Most of the time, what you’re experiencing is not a crisis—it’s just normal.


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  • Navigating Gender Roles in Social Settings: A Personal Journey

    A warm reflection on balancing authenticity with society’s expectations.


    When the Sports Talk Starts

    Have you ever found yourself stuck in a room where all the guys are talking about sports? They know the players, the stats, the trades, the odds. And if you’re not into it, you’re left nodding, smiling, and quietly plotting your escape. That was me for years.

    It’s not that I had anything against sports—I just didn’t want to spend hours watching them. I had other things that lit me up. But when I couldn’t join in the conversation, I’d slowly back out of the room and find myself in the kitchen with the women. And the funny thing? That’s where the real conversation was happening—laughter, stories, meaning. I felt more myself there, even if it meant breaking the mold.


    What Masculinity Taught Me

    Like a lot of boys growing up, I got the memo early on: be tough, don’t cry, know how to fix a car, don’t talk too much about your feelings. It wasn’t always said outright, but it was there—in locker rooms, on TV, at the dinner table. You learn to perform a certain kind of masculinity that’s supposed to signal strength. But it can be exhausting if it’s not who you really are.

    I liked art. Music. Deep conversations. I didn’t care who was winning the playoffs. And for a while, that made me feel like an outsider—until I realized the real problem wasn’t me. It was the box I’d been put in.


    When Masculinity Turns Toxic

    There’s a difference between healthy masculinity and what’s now often called toxic masculinity—the kind that equates power with dominance, emotion with weakness, and difference with threat.

    You see it in some corners of our culture, and yes, even in our government. When strength is defined only by control or aggression, it breeds intolerance—for women, for LGBTQ+ people, for anyone who doesn’t follow the old script. It punishes vulnerability, mocks compassion, and shames authenticity.

    This version of masculinity doesn’t just hurt others—it hurts men, too. It tells us to hide the very things that make us human. It cuts us off from connection and keeps us performing roles instead of living lives. That’s not strength. That’s fear in disguise.


    The Rooms That Matter

    Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had happened in softly lit rooms over a glass of wine, talking about books, family, memory, and meaning. No one had to perform. No one had to posture. These rooms weren’t always gendered—they were just open.

    Over time, I stopped trying to fit in where I didn’t feel seen. I started creating rooms I actually wanted to be in. I invited people who were curious, creative, kind. And the best part? They showed up.


    Choosing the Conversation That Feeds You

    We all get to choose where we linger at the party, metaphorically and otherwise. You can stay in the room where you feel invisible—or you can find (or create) the room where you feel alive. That might mean going against what’s expected. It might mean leaving the pack. It might mean being misunderstood. But it’s worth it.


    The Takeaway: Forget the Role. Be Authentic.

    I used to think I was doing it wrong. Now I know I was just doing it differently. Gender roles can shape us, but they don’t have to define us.

    You don’t have to be “one of the guys” if that means trading in your real self for a cardboard cutout. Instead, find the people who talk about things that matter to you. Stay in that room.

    And if you can’t find one—make one. Drop the role. Keep the soul. That’s how change begins.


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  • The Art of Letting Go

    10 Gentle Ways to Move Forward with Peace, Creativity, and Courage

    If you’re like me, you probably have a few regrets.

    There’s that voice that chimes in: “If only I had chosen option X instead of Y, my life would be better.” I know that voice well. And deep down, I also know it’s probably not true. But still, we sometimes cling to the version of life we thought we’d have instead of the one we actually do.

    Maybe the retirement you planned got rewritten—due to illness, loss, or divorce. Maybe you’re grieving a future that felt so close you could touch it. I’ve been there. It took me time to realize that the future I envisioned wasn’t stolen—it just changed. And holding on to that old version was only keeping me stuck.

    Frank Sinatra supposedly hated singing “My Way.” He thought it was self-indulgent. But I don’t hear it that way. The lyrics hit home:

    Regrets, I’ve had a few
    But then again, too few to mention…”

    To me, that song isn’t about selfishness—it’s about taking responsibility. It’s about owning your story, even the parts that didn’t go the way you’d hoped.

    So how do we begin to let go of regret and open up to what’s still possible?

    Here are ten gentle ways to get started

    1. Name Your Regrets—Then Let Them Go—Write them down. Say them out loud. Then remind yourself: “I did the best I could with what I knew at the time.” You’re not erasing the past—you’re simply choosing not to carry it everywhere you go.
    2. Forgive Yourself and Others—Let it go. Let them go. Holding onto blame, shame, or resentment only keeps you tethered to a story that’s over. It doesn’t mean you approve—it just means you’re ready to move on.
    3. Release the Old Script—That trip you never took. The career you didn’t chase. The partner you thought you’d grow old with. It’s okay to grieve those things—and then let them go. The future can still be good, even if it looks different than what you imagined.
    4. Dream Something New—Start a fresh list. Even if you think it’s too late—write it anyway. Learn Spanish. Take a painting class. Try kayaking. Teach your grandkid how to bake. Your imagination is still alive and well. Use it.
    5. Make Something—You don’t have to be an artist. Just pick something—music, writing, a puzzle, a garden, a loaf of bread—and let your hands get involved. Creative expression lifts your mood, improves focus, and reminds you that you’re still shaping your story.
    6. Sit Still—Meditation isn’t just for monks. Whether it’s quiet breathing, a slow walk, or reading something nourishing, take a few minutes a day to stop doing and just be. It’s in the stillness that clarity begins to return.
    7. Move Your Body—Yoga, walking, dancing in your kitchen—it all counts. Movement helps clear mental clutter, boosts your mood, and reconnects you to the present moment. You don’t need a gym membership; you just need a little rhythm and a little sunlight.
    8. Do What You Love—Cook. Garden. Rearrange your sock drawer. Start a new hobby or dust off an old one. Retirement isn’t the end of meaningful days—it’s the beginning of choosing what you want to do with them.
    9. Say Yes More Often—When someone invites you to lunch—say yes. Hear music from a street performer—linger. See a class that looks interesting—sign up. Make it a challenge: say yes to as many things as you can today. Go with the flow. You don’t want to miss out on what could surprise you.
    10. Reclaim Your Power—You still get to choose. Write a list of what you want the next five years to feel like. Make one bold move a month.

    “For what is a man, what has he got?
    If not himself, then he has naught…”

    You’re not done. Not by a long shot. Regrets may visit, but they don’t have to stay. Let go, and do it your way.

    Your next chapter? It’s wide open.
    Make it count. Make it joyful.
    And above all—make it yours.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)


  • “What’s for Dinner?” Turning the Daily Grind into a Creative Joyride

    From Survival Meals to Savoring the Process (and Why One Cookbook Made All the Difference)

    “Give someone a recipe, they eat a meal. Teach someone to cook, they eat for a lifetime.”


    What’s for dinner tonight?

    Even if you cook just because you have to eat, ask yourself: is making dinner a creative ritual—or more like scrubbing the toilet? A chore to be survived?

    Growing up, I remember my mother always pulling something from the freezer in the morning. She had a loose plan—and she needed one. With six kids, a husband, and her father-in-law at the table most nights, she didn’t have time for extra trips to the store. She improvised. She adapted. And she was a fantastic cook.

    For me, eating a meal has become more than just fuel. It’s a ritual. Something intimate and communal. There’s something vulnerable—almost sacred—about sitting down with others to share food. I love hosting dinner parties. Yes, it’s work, but always worth it.

    Back in 2000, while Christmas shopping, I came across a book called How to Cook Without a Book: Recipes and Techniques Every Cook Should Know by Heart by Pam Anderson. It seemed like the perfect gift for my then 21-year-old daughter…creative, independent, someone who would rather invent a meal than follow a recipe. Brave, as always.

    Fast forward to 2018. I’m recently divorced and living alone for the first time. That Christmas, my daughter gave me the updated edition of the same book. “No other cookbook has influenced me more,” she told me.

    She wasn’t kidding. She’s now a creative, inventive cook—always serving complex, flavorful dishes that surprise the palate. A taste bud awakening, every time.

    But me? Cooking solo didn’t come naturally at first. This book changed that.

    Suddenly, making a stir-fry with pantry staples or whipping up a sauce with coconut milk and spices didn’t feel out of reach. The book taught me to stop chasing the “perfect” recipe and start cooking from the heart. I used to get frustrated trying to follow recipes—half the time I didn’t have the ingredients, and I didn’t feel like running to the store.

    Now? I improvise. I adjust. I enjoy it.

    I’ve learned how to plan a meal quickly. How to build flavor. How to substitute and simplify. Cooking has become less about stress and more about play.

    And no—this isn’t a pitch to buy a book. This is about something we all do every day. Something that doesn’t have to feel like a grind.

    Practical Joy: Takeaways for a Better Relationship with Cooking

    • Build a well-stocked pantry. Know your staples: frozen proteins, go-to veggies, grains, condiments, herbs, and spices. Your future self will thank you.
    • Learn a few flexible techniques. Gravies, sauces, roasting, stir-fry—once you’ve got a handful in your pocket, you can cook anything.
    • Pick 3–5 things you’ve always wanted to master. Maybe it’s salmon, Lo Mein, Coq au Vin, curry, or just spice blending.
    • Turn mealtime into a gathering. Small or large, dinner with others can be deeply rewarding. Invite, connect, enjoy.
    • Be bold. Take risks. Most kitchen “fails” are edible. And many are surprisingly good.
    • Cook once, eat twice. Make extra. Freeze it. That’s time saved and future you high-fived.
    • Make it fun. Turn up the music. Pour a glass of wine. Dance with your spatula.
    • Shop with curiosity. Let store sales or fresh produce inspire your meals. Think: what could I make with this?
    • Savor the feeling. A delicious home-cooked meal is more than food—it’s comfort, connection, and care.
    • Remember: most dishes are just a variation on a theme. You don’t need to reinvent the wheel. Just remix it.

    Once you stop worrying about doing it right, you start doing it well.

    Trust your hands. Trust your taste. Dinner’s waiting.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)

  • Ashes to Options: Rethinking Death Care in the 21st Century

    Growing up Catholic, you hear a lot about death. It’s not exactly Sunday fun-day material, but it sticks with you. Every Ash Wednesday, the priest would smudge ashes on my forehead and solemnly say, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” I didn’t know what to make of it as a kid—it sounded poetic and slightly terrifying—but the message was clear: these bodies of ours are temporary.

    That wasn’t the only reminder. I came from a large family — one grandmother was one of twelve, one grandfather, one of ten. It felt like someone died every year when I was little, and attending wakes and funerals became a family tradition. The wakes often stretched over several days, with long lines of cousins, casseroles, and quiet prayers. For a child, it was both confusing and oddly formative. I learned early that nobody gets out of here alive.

    Now in my 70s, death has become less abstract. It’s no longer something that happens to great-aunts I barely knew. It’s personal—and it’s practical. I’ve started thinking seriously about what I want when the time comes. Turns out, “human composting” is a real thing now, and oddly enough, it doesn’t sound so crazy. Honestly, it makes more sense than I would’ve ever guessed twenty years ago.

    So, I asked myself: What instructions do I want to leave my kids? Right now, I’m leaning toward cremation and a joyful “celebration of life” gathering. Traditional funerals—with embalming, metal caskets, and plots that cost as much as a small used car—just feel wasteful. But I do believe in honoring a life, especially one that’s meant something to people. I hope my kids and grandkids take time to celebrate—not because I want fanfare, but because closure matters.


    The Death-Care Landscape Today

    Like everything else, the death-care industry is evolving, shaped by cultural shifts, rising costs, and a growing awareness of our environmental footprint. Here are a few 2024 stats worth noting:

    • Traditional Burial
      📉 33% of Americans still choose this route, but it’s projected to drop to 13% by 2045.
      💰 Costs range from $8,300–$10,000.
    • Cremation
      🔥 Currently 62% choose cremation, expected to climb to 82% by 2045.
      💸 Direct cremation (no service): $1,000–$2,000; with funeral/viewing: around $6,300.
    • Green Burial
      🌿 Exact stats are murky, but 68% of Americans express interest in it.
      🌱 Generally more affordable—no embalming, no vault, no fancy casket.

    Trends Shaping the Way We Say Goodbye

    🌍 Environmental Concerns —Eco-friendly options are on the rise—think biodegradable shrouds, natural burial grounds, and even human composting (called natural organic reduction). We’re returning to the earth—literally.

    ✨ Personalization—Funerals aren’t “one-size-fits-all” anymore. People are writing their own obituaries, crafting playlists, and even leaving video messages. It’s about reflecting the life that was lived.

    💸 Economic Reality—Let’s face it—funerals are expensive. Direct cremation and green burials often appeal to people not just environmentally, but financially.

    📱 Technology Integration—Livestreamed funerals? You bet. COVID accelerated this trend, and it’s here to stay. Some funeral homes even offer online memorials and digital guestbooks.


    Thinking Green (and Not Just for St. Patrick’s Day)

    These days, I’m seriously considering a green burial. It just feels more responsible and more aligned with the “dust to dust” idea that’s been echoing since grade school. It’s simple, natural, and easy on the earth. And that appeals to me.

    Some people I know want no service at all—just a quiet exit, no fuss. That’s their choice, of course. But to me, it’s worth taking the time to reflect, honor, and remember. A life is worth celebrating, and you should decide how yours is marked—not leave it up to stressed-out family members with grief fog and group texts.


    Explore Green Options in Maine

    If you’re curious about green burials, here are three thoughtful, environmentally conscious options right here in Maine:


    Final Thoughts

    So… have you thought it through? It’s not morbid. It’s actually one of the most thoughtful gifts you can leave your loved ones. Your body, your choice—even after you’re done using it.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)

  • Loneliness is Not Your Friend: How to Spot It, Face It, and Start Feeling Better

    Have you ever felt lonely?

    Not just “no one to hang out with on a Friday night” lonely, but the kind that creeps in quietly and stays too long—the kind that wears you down emotionally, physically, even spiritually?

    You’re not alone. And you’re not imagining it. Loneliness has become a real crisis in America, especially among retirees. It affects our health, our outlook, and our sense of purpose.



    Life Alone Is No Small Feat


    Many people in the Baby Boomer generation are living alone—more than ever before. And that comes with an invisible workload: managing every detail of your life solo, from cooking and finances to home repairs and appointments. That’s a lot to handle even on a good day.

    But when your mental health starts to dip, even everyday tasks can feel overwhelming. You see the world through a muddy lens. The loneliness that once felt manageable becomes something more oppressive. A cycle begins—and it’s hard to break out of.

    I was reminded of this just yesterday, talking to a relative who lives alone. Her loneliness was so deep it had taken root in the past—she kept revisiting old heartbreaks and regrets from twenty years ago. I tried to offer encouragement, but it was hard for her to take it in. Maybe you know someone in a similar situation. Maybe it’s you.



    The Bigger Picture: A Crisis We Don’t Talk About Enough


    Here are just a few signs that loneliness has become more than a personal issue—it’s a cultural one:

    • From 1973 to 2023, single-person households increased by 50%
    • TV watching is at an all-time high, especially among older adults
    • Since the COVID pandemic, takeout dining has replaced shared meals
    • Church attendance and social gatherings are down
    • Alcoholism is on the rise, often as an attempted cure for isolation

    But here’s the good news: there are real, practical steps you can take to shift your experience of loneliness. You can start small, and you can start today.

    10 Ways to Reclaim Connection and Purpose

    1. Admit There’s a Problem — You can’t heal what you don’t acknowledge. Loneliness isn’t a failure—it’s a signal. Pay attention to it.
    2. Cook for Yourself — Instead of takeout, make a simple, nourishing meal. Cook enough for a few days. There are endless free recipes online—start with something easy and build confidence.
    3. Watch the Alcohol — If you use alcohol to cope, be honest with yourself. If you can’t cut back, get help. You deserve support.
    4. Limit the TV — TV can become a background hum of avoidance. Try cutting your screen time by even one hour a day. Read. Play music. Tackle a creative project. The time is yours—use it well.
    5. Let Go of Old Wounds — Rehashing old injustices or failures will keep you stuck. Forgive yourself. Life is messy, and you’re not alone in that.
    6. Know When to Get Help — If you feel desperate, talk to someone. A friend. A therapist. Your doctor. Don’t suffer in silence.
    7. Explore the Community — Look for free performances, church groups, art classes, walking groups, or volunteer opportunities. Pretend your life depends on it—because in some ways, it does.
    8. Talk to Yourself Like a Friend — Practice self-talk. Encourage yourself. You know more than you think. Speak kindly and keep going.
    9. Move Your Body — Walk. Stretch. Dance in your kitchen. Your heart is a muscle—work it. Movement helps body and mood alike.
    10. Watch Your Sugar — As a former practicing RN, I’ll say it straight: diabetes is on the rise, and a poor diet can make you feel worse in every way. Eat well. Your future self will thank you.

    Solitude Isn’t the Enemy—But Loneliness Can Be


    Spending time alone can be a healing balm. But if that solitude turns into isolation, it’s time to reassess.

    Ask yourself: Is this a restful pause, or am I stuck in it?

    Start small. Do something new for just 20 minutes today. Take stock. Try again tomorrow.

    You have this one life. You have the power to make it fuller, warmer, and more connected—starting with one small choice.

    Loneliness is not your friend. One brave step today could lead you somewhere better than you imagined.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)

  • The Worldview Wake-Up: Why Nobody Sees Things Quite Like You Do (and That’s Okay) 

    Here’s a simple truth that took me years to fully grasp: everyone on this planet has a different worldview. Yes—every single person. That includes your neighbor, your coworkers, your sister-in-law with the loud opinions, and even that guy in line who’s furious about the price of avocados. 

    Your worldview is basically your lens on life. It’s shaped by everything you’ve experienced: your family, your education, your job, your religion (or lack of it), your culture, your personality, the books you’ve read, the news you consume, and even your country’s politics. It’s the filter through which you interpret… well, everything. 

    And here’s the kicker: no one else has your exact filter. Not even your twin, if you have one. We each bring a totally unique blend of history, emotion, and bias to the table—so it’s no surprise we sometimes struggle to agree on what we’re even looking at. 

    I once went to a seminar that illustrated this beautifully. It was a room full of smart, accomplished people—people I knew, respected, and occasionally exchanged heated opinions with about work projects. The facilitator ran a simple experiment: 

    A tray was brought out, covered by a cloth. We were told that when the cloth was lifted, we’d have 30 seconds to observe the tray’s contents—around 30 items, all different shapes, sizes, colors, and materials. Afterward, we’d answer ten questions about what we saw. 

    Easy, right? Wrong. 

    Questions like “How many items were made of glass?” or “How many were round?” led to wild answers. Some folks guessed five, others said twelve. Nobody nailed a single question. We were stunned. (And mildly defensive.) 

    But the point was clear: we all saw something different. Even with the same visual input, our minds focused on different things. Some of us zeroed in on color, others on materials, others on what reminded them of home or childhood. 

    It was a powerful reminder that memory, perception, and value are incredibly subjective—even among a group of thoughtful, educated adults. If we can’t agree on how many wooden things were on a tray, no wonder we disagree on how to run a meeting or load the dishwasher. 

    So what’s the takeaway? 

    If you start with the assumption that other people see the world differently than you do—not wrongly, just differently—you’re more likely to stay curious than combative. You might find yourself asking, “What makes you see it that way?” or “Tell me more about that.”

    This doesn’t mean you have to agree with everyone. It just means you give them room to be human. Maybe even give yourself permission to be wrong once in a while. (I know, deep breaths.) 

    My dad was great at this. With a big, opinionated family and a wide social circle, he heard all kinds of ideas—many of which he strongly disagreed with. But instead of jumping into debate mode, he’d pause, smile, and say, “Huh. I never thought of it like that.” Simple. Disarming. Brilliant. 

    That one line—“I never thought of it like that”—can change the temperature of a conversation, build bridges, and maybe even help you understand the world just a little better. 

    Try it sometime. Especially with your sister-in-law.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)

  • The Sock Drawer Manifesto: Why Your Bucket List Matters More Than You Think

    Do You Have a Bucket List?

    I’ve never actually met someone who has a physical list, but maybe you do! The term is more of a metaphor than a to-do list. It’s really about setting life goals and aspirations—a reminder to pursue what matters most to you before, well…you know.


    Life Goals vs. Bucket Lists: What’s the Difference?

    There’s a subtle but important difference between life goals and bucket lists.

    Life goals tend to be long-term aspirations—things like building a family, earning a degree, or living by certain core values. They often reflect societal expectations and personal milestones.

    Bucket lists, on the other hand, are more about experiences that bring joy, curiosity, and fulfillment—whether that’s skydiving, learning a language, or reading 100 books. They’re flexible, evolving, and driven more by personal passion than obligation.

    Both are essential to a meaningful life—but they serve different purposes.


    The Calendar Gets Smaller

    The phrase “bucket list” became popular after the 2007 film The Bucket List, where two terminally ill men set off to tick off adventures before they died. It was a great movie. But today, I want to talk about you. And your list.

    When you get into your 70s or 80s, you start noticing the calendar feels a little smaller. My parents both lived into their 90s, but not everyone gets that long runway. So, yes, I think it’s healthy to acknowledge your mortality while you still have the spark to do something about it. Of course, ignoring it is always an option—but it does tend to sneak up on you eventually!


    A Glimpse at My Bucket List

    Here’s a partial glimpse at my own bucket list:

    • Learn to play jazz ✔️
    • Take up drawing ✔️
    • Do yoga every day ✔️
    • Read the entire Bible (in progress)
    • Write a book (in progress)

    Your list might look completely different. Maybe yours includes traveling to Patagonia or learning to juggle. It’s your list.


    When the List Gets Personal

    For me, some items led to even deeper questions. Like number four—reading the entire Bible—forced me to ask if I believed in God and what I thought about life after death. That wasn’t a small thing to untangle.

    I grew up in a devout Catholic family. Church every Sunday. Every Holy Day. We fasted during Lent. My aunt was a nun. We went to parochial school, which, all things considered, was mostly a positive experience. I never heard my father curse—he made it to 95 and still not a single cuss word!

    In my twenties, I drifted from church. During my time in the Navy, I had what I’d call a “God experience,” which brought me back. I joined a church, played piano for the services, and found a community.

    Then life did what life does. Two failed marriages. Heartache in the church. My faith in God never wavered, but my trust in Christian leadership certainly did. That ship had sailed. Everything that once felt black-and-white now felt—well—complicated.

    Then, at 62, I came out as gay. Suddenly, I had to reconcile how to trust a church that told me loving who I am meant eternal damnation.

    I’m sharing this not to convert you—or to invite a theological debate—but simply to show how personal and messy our lists and questions can get. And that’s okay. Everyone has to answer their own hard questions.


    Make Your List. Hide It in Your Sock Drawer.

    So why not make a list? Ten items. Maybe more. Jot it down on paper. Hide it in your sock drawer if that feels right. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It’s not for anyone but you.

    And when you cross something off, take a moment to smile. You did that. Revise the list as you go.

    A bucket list isn’t really about death—it’s about the third act of your story. Like in a play, the third act is when all the pieces finally start making sense.

    And don’t we all deserve that kind of clarity before the curtain falls.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)

  • Drawing Life

    What a Nude Studio Art Class Taught Me About Confidence, Connection, and Creativity

    When I was in elementary school, Fridays meant one thing I truly loved: art class. At our parochial school in Massachusetts, we even had a yearly art competition across the diocese. Out of about 60 students per grade, they awarded one First Place, one Second Place, and four Honorable Mentions.

    Over eight years, I received Honorable Mention five times. Not bad, right? But by the time I got to high school, I stopped drawing. Why?

    Well… I had a problem.

    A very talented one.

    My older sister—two grades ahead—was a drawing prodigy. She won First Place seven out of her eight years. The only year she didn’t win was due to a rumor she’d taken lessons (which she hadn’t). But that’s how it was in the 1950s. You rolled with it.

    And I did. Right out of art.

    She could draw larger-than-life portraits of the Beatles, The Monkees, and The Dave Clark Five. Her talent was staggering. I adored her—but I put my pencils away. Why try when she was the “artist” in the family?

    Fast forward several decades. I’m now in my early 70s, happily retired, and carrying a new bucket list with me—things I never had the time or courage to explore before.

    One of those things?

    Studio drawing with nude models.


    Facing the Easel (and My Fears)

    A good friend of mine, a retired art professor from Maine, invited me to a life drawing group that met every other week. “You don’t have to be good,” he said. “You just have to show up.”

    So I did.

    I was nervous—terrified, really. What if my drawings were awful? What if others noticed how bad they were? Would I embarrass myself?

    Then the model stepped up. Completely nude.

    A beautiful, confident man with defined muscles and, let’s say, a very noticeable jewel package.

    I panicked. Where do I look without looking like I’m looking?

    At the break, I walked up to him and said, honestly, “You have a very beautiful body, and I feel so awkward staring at it. But thank you for posing—it’s amazing.”

    He smiled and said, “Don’t worry about staring. You’re supposed to. Just keep coming.”

    That moment of honesty cracked something open in me. I kept coming back.


    The Practice of Observation

    Two years later, I’ve drawn at least five different models:

    • A confident young woman with perky breasts and a dancer’s grace

    • An older, plus-sized man whose presence filled the space

    • A tall, thin gentleman who wore hats and scarves—quirky and elegant

    • A handsome Black model with a sculptural body and intuitive posing style

    Each session is 2.5 hours of quiet focus. There’s jazz or classical music playing softly in the background, the scratch of charcoal on paper, the occasional “ahh” of satisfaction when someone nails a pose. During breaks, there’s wine, seltzer, and snacks. It’s like creative therapy.

    And the best part?

    My drawings are getting better.

    I’ve shown my sketchbooks to my sister—yes, that sister. She’s now my biggest fan. She still teaches adult art classes once a week, and she’s given me wonderful tips: focus on shading, draw the spine, pay attention to foreshortening.

    Speaking of which—foreshortening is when, say, someone is lying down with their feet pointed at you. The feet will appear huge, while the rest of the body seems shortened. Your mind knows what you’re seeing, but getting it onto the page is a challenge. And yet, somehow, the more you do it, the easier it gets.


    A New Kind of Confidence

    To draw a person is to translate something three-dimensional into two dimensions using nothing but your eyes, your hands, and your courage.

    For me, it’s more than drawing.

    It keeps my mind sharp.

    It brings peace.

    And it reminds me that it’s never too late to rediscover something you once loved—or to start something brand new.

    So if there’s something on your bucket list you’ve been putting off—whether it’s drawing, dancing, hiking, or playing music—think of this story.

    Even if you feel like a beginner, you will improve. You will grow. And you might just find a new passion waiting to welcome you home.


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    (No pressure at all-just grateful you’re here!)