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The Song Means Something Different Now
Yesterday I sat listening to my firstborn learn a song on the guitar. And I had one of those strange moments where the past and present seemed to fold over each other. I first heard this song when I was seventeen years old. I was addicted to heroin then. That song belonged to a world…
What If Your Peace Requires the Truth?
There is a particular kind of evil that does not end when the man dies, or when the house is sold, or when the child grows up and finally walks out the door. It survives in the people who learned to call it something else. They learned that silence was loyalty. That protecting the family…
The Peace That Doesn’t Wait for Permission
For a long time, I thought peace would arrive as a feeling. I imagined that healing would eventually make me calm. My body would stop bracing. My mind would become quiet. I would wake up one morning and discover that the internal weather had finally cleared. It seemed reasonable. If I could understand myself well…
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