When we stand in our own light, it illuminates our path—and the paths of those around us, too.

I’ve been on the fence countless times, walking that fine line between yes and no and looking for the escape hatch.

No more. No less.

25 years ago. Half my life ago. Suddenly the world was a different place.

When I’m living in the space between where I’ve been and where I’m going, I’m learning that these days matter. There’s plenty to observe, learn, experience, and enjoy here too.

Letters from Dolly Parton reminded me of something important

Here’s what I understand, years later: the journey never really ends. It’s not a place where you arrive one time and check the box.

A message from a young woman reminded me that living is not something we earn. It's something we get to experience and feel.

I wonder how many of us live with two parts of ourselves: the one who’s vibrant and alive, ready and primed and waiting to live, and the shadow side that believes we have to earn that right.

Sometimes a necessary reset arrives disguised as a broken refrigerator.

A reflection on the question many of us are asking right now: Where’d all the time go?

I wouldn't offer grand advice. I'd ask her a question instead.

A series of events led me down a rabbit hole and reminded me of what we're all doing here.

A life-changing conversation 22 years ago pointed me toward the one thing that has helped me navigate every transition since.

For memoir writers, our stories on the page may come to an end, but they hint at the life that comes after: who we are becoming and who we will continue to become in every chapter that follows.