Another Book Has Changed Me

The first book that I recall making me cry was Charlotte’s Web. The love and need of that relationship unlike any outside that with my mother. I thought all friendships would be that of Charlotte and Wilber, but spinning is required of all of us in every relationship, and I had little temperament to commit.

The last book to illuminate the little understanding I have of myself was The Sense of an Ending, Julian Barnes novel of life sometimes ending before one’s physical manifestation disappears. Barnes’ novel came at a time when I acted as if life were over.

Today I finished a novel, that in 337 pages illuminated my greatest fear and deepest faults. In those same pages, I also found courage and guidance to recognize that I am evolving but moving little.

George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo is an unexpected, imaginary, uplifting tome of humanity; I surrendered to his words and floated through the story simultaneously sobbing in both anguish and relief, my sadness morphing into hope.

Lincoln in the Bardo is a crystal ball into what holds up back when the mind can only focus on our own sorrows. My wish is to walk a little lighter before leaving this world.


#Light (#AdventWord), when I hear the word, I conjure images of candles, sunlight, beams, and fractals – illumination from the outside – but there are moments when the light we experience comes from within.


I am a blessed man. This year I experienced explosive illumination that propelled me on a different path; still others, small, like sparks from a match disturbed and distorted my perspective, creating a kaleidoscope of self, of God, and of the world.

To see oneself through this lens is to find different shades and shadows of one unique individual. To recognize and find joy in that, is peace.