Tag: journey

  • Turns Out I Was Pretty Good at Being Me

    Once upon a time, there was a kid. A curious kid. A distracted kid. He was good at just about everything he tried, but never really great at any of it—or at least that’s what he thought. He never really knew what he wanted to be when he grew up. He considered all the usual…

  • A Pause, Not an Ending

    A Pause, Not an Ending

    People get tattoos for all sorts of reasons. Some honor someone they love, remember an important moment, celebrate a milestone, or carry a meaningful reminder with them wherever they go. Others simply appreciate the artistry and enjoy turning their skin into a canvas for self-expression. A tattoo can tell a story, capture a memory, reflect…

  • Commencement Season: Tassels, Tears, and One Last Trip to the Snack Bar

    There’s something strange about graduation season. For four years, students spend most of high school counting down to the end of school—talking about summer, freedom, and escaping homework forever. Then suddenly, during the final few weeks, everyone starts walking around campus like they’re in the last ten minutes of a movie. People who normally sprint…

  • The Discipline of Presence

    I said this to a group of colleagues the other day. We were talking about the apparent apathy we see in students—and in many adults. “Failing to show up is giving the world your consent to move on without you.” Their response was thoughtful. They said the line had weight—but maybe it was too harsh.…

  • Mirror, Mirror on My Desk…

    We spend a lot of time looking outward. At expectations. At what other people are doing, saying, or thinking. We compare, we react, we adjust. Most of our day is shaped by everything happening around us. But we rarely stop and look inward. There aren’t many moments in the day where it’s just you and…

  • Life Is A Notebook

    I came across this idea the other day, and it stayed with me longer than I expected— the kind of thought that doesn’t just pass through, but settles in. Maybe it’s the way we hold onto moments—like scraps of paper, like old notebooks tucked away in drawers. Every now and then, something reminds you that…

  • Mariachi Me… Same Traje, Different Mileage

    Mariachi Me… Same Traje, Different Mileage

    Being a Mariachi isn’t just about the music. It’s about what you carry before you ever play a note. The traje—sharp, tailored, unmistakable—has a way of teaching you that.  At first, it feels like a costume. Something you put on to look the part. The shine, the stitching, the silver botonadura, the way it commands…

  • The Making of the Self – Layer by Layer

    The Making of the Self – Layer by Layer

    It doesn’t begin with clarity. It begins in fragments.A shadow here.A rough line there.An outline that almost feels like you—but not quite. You step back.Tilt your head.Erase a little.Darken something you were afraid to see. And slowly… it starts to emerge.Not the version you imagined—but the one that’s honest. The lines aren’t perfect.They’re restless.Smudged in…

  • Throwing Words Into the Wind

    Let me tell you a story…something I learned about myself, and only fully recently acknowledged. This won’t be a confession of weakness, nor a tale of courage or inner strength. Those are just labels. And the truth is, labels are strangers to far more people like me than most realize. If anything, this story is…

  • Beer Sunset…

    Beer Sunset…

    The kind where the day exhales slowly, where the bottle sweats in your hand like it’s been working just as hard as you have, and the sky turns that dusty orange you only notice when you finally stop moving. It’s porch steps and quiet conversations. It’s the hum of distant traffic mixing with crickets warming…

  • The Longest Day – Sanitized, Signed In, and Socially Distanced

    I’ve had long days before. I mean, who hasn’t. Everyone has a horror story or two about work, some more drink worthy than others. A friend and I were recently comparing notes over coffee, as one does when caffeine doubles as a therapist. The conversation inevitably twisted itself around the question: who had the longest…

  • Out of the Dark to Find Me Again

    So last night, I had a realization. Not one of those cinematic, lightning-strikes-the-soul kind of realizations. No dramatic music, no sudden gasp into the void. More like… sitting there, minding my business, and boom—my brain quietly taps me on the shoulder like, “Hey… you good?” And apparently, I wasn’t. Or at least, my writing wasn’t.…

  • Freedom on Two Wheels

    Back in the day, a bicycle was freedom. It was far more than a way to get from here to there. We treated our wheels the same way our dads and big brothers treated theirs. Well… at least I did. I grew up watching my old man in the driveway on weekends, tinkering with his…

  • The Burden of Grief

    This comes not as a confession, but as a quiet observation—drawn from conversations with those who have known loss, who have carried grief quietly and persistently. Grief is both deeply personal and inherently human, connecting us even as we navigate it alone. It is born of shared experience, of listening, of trying to understand. What…

  • Dichoso El Árbol

    Music. For most, it is simply entertainment. For some, it fills the silence. For others, it is just noise, or a distraction from what weighs on the mind. But for a smaller number, music is more—it is healing, it is connection, even a kind of spiritual touch. For me, it is a bit of all…