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

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.

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...

into the dark days / the drizzle