Personal Essay
Real-life reflections and soul-deep storytelling—where grit, humor, and truth meet on the page
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The One Thing That Waits
On my to-do listthere is always one thingthat remains untouched. Clean Your Closet. It arrives underlined,sometimes twice,so it knows I mean business. The task is simpleand impossibleat the same time. I tell myself I will do it tomorrow. But tomorrow… Continue reading
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Not Just for Hunger
My favorite thing to cook depends on the moment.My guests matter just as much as the food—sometimes more. What I cook is never just for hunger. Cooking, like living, works best when you don’t overstay at the stove. You step… Continue reading
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Leisure, Taken Apart
Leisure has changed for me. It’s not what it once was. In leisure, I do not sit still.I float beside my thoughts. A violin, a gentle piano, hums somewhere—even if no one is playing it. Art leans in through my… Continue reading
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What a Name Learns
My first name was a beginning stroke.Given before courage.Before the world made its demands.In time, my name learned me. It doesn’t waste syllables.It’s short. Memorable. A little defiant.It does not ask permission to enter a room. It sits cross-legged and… Continue reading
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If I Could Un-Invent Something
It would be the speed. The way everything learned how to rushbefore we did. I don’t wish away phones, or the internet, or the ability to connect.I just wish we hadn’t trained ourselvesto respond before we reflect,to react before we… Continue reading
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It’s Time That Teaches Us How to Listen…
It’s Time That Teaches Us How to Listen The more time we spend in Scripture,we learn it doesn’t just inform us—it forms us. Those roots don’t rush.They settle deep into our thoughts, our responses, our speech,quietly shaping our hearts and… Continue reading
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I Don’t Have a Sentence for Your Wall — I Have a Portrait
Someone said,“A mission should be big.”So I tried to stand taller, I lengthen my neck.I soften my eyes.I tilt my head just enoughthat my soul has room to breathe.But still I tripped over the question. I have never trusted questions… Continue reading
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Remembering Is to Live Again
What has been lived does not dissolve;it persists, asking to be remembered,tugging at my sleeve with borrowed sighs. Time, I have learned, does not proceed cleanly forward.It folds.It sneaks in. Some people want to outrun time.I sit with it.I ask… Continue reading
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“The Affair I Had in a French Café”
Here in the United States, coffee is a necessity. It’s an accessory. It’s the fuel behind every hustle and the badge of every busybody. We don’t sip it. We chase it. We order it before we leave the house, pick… Continue reading
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To Remember Is to Live Again
There are days when the past presses upon me not as sorrow, but as presence— as though memory itself is a second breath, quieter, but no less real. It is spoken in another language… “Recordar es volver a vivir.” To… Continue reading
...The Rest Is His Story 