Life
Falling into life
Here's to falling into things. To the wisdom of allowing ourselves to be surprised by paths we never thought to seek.
creative writing
Life
The art of waiting in line
When the line moves, move with it. Not with the hurried shuffle of obligation, but with the deliberate steps of someone with purpose. One step closer. There is a rhythm to a good line, a pulse that beats. Find it. Join it. Let your body absorb the rhythm
Life
The art of becoming: of craft and calling
Our question should not be "What am I passionate about?" but rather "What can I become exceptional at?"
creative writing
The cartography of imagination
The cartography of imagination lies not in the charting but in the courage to sail beyond the edge.
creative writing
The manual of human weather
Seasons don't just change – they dissolve into each other like watercolours bleeding across wet paper.
creative writing
The sound of silence
Learning to notice your heartbeat in the space between your thoughts.
creative writing
Nothing has meaning beyond the meaning we give it
We are cosmic graffiti artists, spraying our declarations of importance across the indifferent walls of reality.
Life
The shape of water
There is a profound relief in finally surrendering to your own shape, in letting your edges be edges
creative writing
The man who never left
The greatest journey is the one we take in accepting that all our movements, grand or small, are just elaborate preparations for the moment we must stop moving altogether.I chose to begin with stillness
Life
The great "want" audit
You can't shop for authenticity at Whole Foods, and you can't download it from the App Store
Travel
Into the delicious gloom
Through the leaded windows of Cotswald's cottages, I saw warm lights flicker on, one by one, like fireflies waking at dusk. The light spilt onto the rain-slicked cobblestones, creating pools of gold that mirrored the sky's own tears.
Travel
Pienza: Where time drips like honey and the cheese tell stories
The pecorino, aged in walnut leaves, smelled like the earth after rain. "Signore," he said, pressing a small wedge toward me, "questo è il sapore di Pienza." This is the taste of Pienza.