I once went camping for a week and forgot to bring underwear. (It’s called wash and wear dry). That’s right one pair, seven days. Stories make the suffering feel less difficult. What are your camping stories? The Good Men Project has picked up my piece on Camping and the Stories that Make Us. I appreciate your support … More Camping and the Stories that Make Us: Reposted in The Good Men Project
Idle hands are the Devil’s playground. When I am on a teleconference, my hands are idle because my mouth is doing the work. I guess that teleconferences are Devil time. I’m not sure what my Pastor would say about that, or my Mother. A few weeks ago, I participated in a teleconference. I the opportunity to … More Happiness: Profound lessons from a Paperclip
I broke my glasses and it made me smile. After that, I taped them together. My daughter thought it was funny that her father was a Tape Nerd. Then I used Guerilla Glue to create a more permanent bond and they broke again. It was at that point that I knew my four year relationship with … More Forget your vision statement: How is the state of your vision?
Sometimes I run backwards. And even sideways. If we only run forwards, the muscles in the front part of our body become well defined, but the backside of our legs, our tooshy and our upper back become under worked. Running backwards gives you an interesting perspective. You see life in reverse. It can help … More Are you running backwards?
One weekend, four people, one tent: Family camping. Do I need to say more? My family and I are reclaiming camping as a family activity. It’s a love-hate thing: Sticky-matted hair, camping breath, smoky-smelling armpits and feet that smell like outdoor bathrooms. I think you understand why we have taken a vacation from camping for … More Camping and the Stories that Make Us
A Zombie ate my brains. You know the feeling? Saturday mornings, you wake up and your brain is empty. When I am in that Zombie-ate-my-brain state, all that I can manage is coffee and cereal. And then I stare: at walls, at the TV, out the window, at the inside of my eyelids. Zombie … More Creativity and how A Zombie ate my Brains
What do you want to be when you grow up? Yesterday I was asked by my daughter whether I dreamed about becoming a Psychologist when I was her age? I told her that when I was her age, I dreamed of becoming an inventor, creating new things out of throwaway boxes and junk. So far, … More My life as a Chooseologist