Oh what a sorrow life is That we must keep on in unimaginative ways Repeating the same metaphors Until our bodies tire and die The world the same as it ever was

We are tiny percolators / Coffee people / Dripping our way through the city

As a person who has received through genetics and upbringing the lot of depression, I have come to experience in my relatively short life quite a good deal of melancholy. Days in which I am not dead, but not quite alive, and not sure how much longer I want to be. While this has been my curse it has also been my blessing. On my good days, I am alive. Alive and aware of how wonderful it is to just have that.

the midnight ferry gleamed over the market sign as I ran though the city in the dark my boots soaked and splashed the rain puddles that grew with the day pigeons and seagulls flocked to a homeless woman as she dumped bread onto the stream forming on the sidewalk a woman stood in the rain and hailed a taxi for a man waiting just inside the with a cart full of...

I am the kind of person that wants to do big things, make a big impact. Right now I volunteer with an amazing international non-profit (our latest work is a scholarship program for kids in rural Cambodia) and I work at an amazing local housing and homelessness services non-profit. I know that what I do makes a big impact, yet I frequently feel that I could do more....

A coworker the other day said something to the effect of, "you're so nice," and I bristled at the comment. I know he was meaning well, but nice isn't what I want to be, particularly in my work. I've really been mulling this one over. Why do I feel that push back against nice? How should I, and do I conduct myself?

‎”When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what...