not about me

Image by Nathan Dinkerson

Image by Nathan Gray*

The truth is: I don’t like writing posts like my last one — at all. Say what? you might ask. Why?

Why? Because this blog isn’t about me.

This blog isn’t about me just like life isn’t about me — just like it’s not about you or him or her or them or those. This life isn’t about any of us; rather, it’s about all of us. There is nothing I detest more than a braggart. People who are either too full of themselves or too insecure to acknowledge the strength and beauty in others make me sick. After all, it is the intrinsic value of all of us that makes this world a beautiful place. Without that . . .

And so if my last post came across at all boastful, my friends, please forgive me. Truth be told, I am anything but. I recognize my strengths but am acutely aware of my weaknesses — in every way. I think this life is about the collective — about each and every one of us pushing ourselves to be the best we can be, and about encouraging and helping others along the way — and not about placing people on pedestals. We are all of us human. Let’s keep it that way.


“The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.”— Picasso


*My friend Nathan shares his gift through photography. You can find more of his amazing work here.

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a_smile_in_the_rain_by_dannyst600_398Why do you divert your eyes?
You and I have naught to hide.
Honest truth, we’ve never met.
We are strangers as of yet.

And all I did was smile at you,
(couldn’t help my passing through),
and yet you looked away from me,
as though I were an enemy.

And so I went along my way,
but on my way I had to say,
the world would be a better place,
if you’d return my smiley face!

Continue reading


sailThe heart doesn’t lie,
knows what’s to be done.
So though my lips sigh,
escape there is none.

The mind likes to drift,
on seas none can find.
Creating a rift,
‘tween body and mind.

Or is that the truth?
Could the opposite be?
The mind is the sleuth . . .
The heart out to sea?

Image credit: Pinterest


So, I don’t know about you, but today felt pretty much like every other day to me. It started out the same. The sun rose, the earth spun, noon came, the sun sank, and now, well, it’s really, really dark. Most people went to work like they always do. Everything seemed the same.

And, yet, apparently, it was different.

You see, today was (gasp!) 12.12.12. The last time we’ll see a repeating date in our lifetimes . . .


12_12_12_12_12_12And this is significant because . . . ?

That’s what I thought.

It always amuses me how much emphasis people place on dates. No, I’m not talking about anniversary dates or birth dates. (Of course you’d better remember those, guys!) I’m talking about calendar dates. Dates like 11.11.11 or 12.12.12, or even entire years. (You know you only have 19 days left to live, right? After all, the world will end this year . . . Does anyone really believe that?) Sometimes I get the feeling that mankind just likes to psyche itself out. Scare itself a little. Maybe in the humdrum of normal life we need a little something to wake ourselves up. “It’s 12.12.12, guys! No waaayyyy!!!”

But, my question is, don’t we have something better to get excited about? 12.12.12 is a man-made date just like any other. As a matter of fact, I’ll bet that, when you wake up tomorrow, on 12.13.12, things will feel an awful lot like they did today. And yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.

And . . .

Wouldn’t it be better if we were focused internally—on improving ourselves and improving the lives of others—instead of looking for something external to bring excitement and give meaning to our lives? Wouldn’t it be better if we were excited about something that actually mattered?

Just food for thought. Happy 12.12.12, everyone! ;)

*Image credit:

hello, my name is ___?

What I didn’t expect was the identity crisis. Some things aren’t supposed to change.

Perhaps you’ve been there, too.

When I was a child, life was simple. Decisions were easy. Choices, slim. And everyone around me was doing the same: college was the horizon.

Fast-forward five years.

Life’s still simple. Life’s still good. A desire previously unfulfilled has been achieved: At college, 3,000 miles from home, I have freedom. I have independence. I’ve left childhood behind and have thousands of years to go. The only trouble? What comes next?

An English degree, a couple of jobs, and a life-changing, three-year tenure in Asia—that’s what . . .  Not to mention the splitting of my home, my 28th birthday, and the poignant realization that, just as time passes, so does youth. No matter how hard I try, I am limited by my lifespan.

I can never see it all, travel it all, write it all, learn it all. I can’t fix it all, have it all, understand it all, or even love it all.

The horizon has become the horizon, and, by its infinity, shown me my limitations.

And, suddenly, I am wavering. Many things I believed to be true have proven to be false, and many things I thought would never be have, in fact, become reality.

And I find myself wondering at the mysteries of life and the way time passes . . . And the energy of youth and the wisdom of age . . . And the fact that I believe in God but have difficulty trusting Him . . .

Or knowing how I fit into His plan.