Bangkok changed the way I think about cities. In its neon streets, crowded temples, and layered history, I discovered what urban texture truly means—and why some places stay with you long after you leave.
A reflection on my daughter turning 16 and how she continues to grow.
A year of change, road trips, shared meals, and learning to be present. From Yukon highways to meditation cushions, this is what 46 taught me about showing up.
Another year full of challenges, but my daughter survived.
I revisit my second-generation Kindle while reading Deep Work, comparing e-ink, focus, highlighting, and iPad reading.
I consider the iPad as a new literacy tool through Merlin Mann's Back to Work, my daughter's reading, typing, and screen habits.
I connect mindfulness, focus, and Cal Newport's Deep Work while thinking about attention, deliberate practice, and better habits.
I celebrate Kylie's sixth birthday, reflecting on reading, school, curiosity, iPad use, and watching her personality grow.
I look back on 2015 through walks, snow, mindfulness, travel, and the small journeys that helped me stay present.
I review Bespoke Post's Frost box, testing Gilded Age leather gloves during cold Kelowna walks and winter weather.
On my 36th birthday, I reflect on baseball, failure, stress, dating, and learning to put more emphasis back on myself.
I take on NaNoWriMo in my own way, aiming for 50,000 words across this site and Medium instead of forcing a novel.
I start a social experiment by publishing short pieces on Medium while saving longer exploratory writing for this site.
I connect Chogyam Trungpa's ideas on ego with my own resistance to writing, work, and doing the task in front of me.
I explain how a Gumroad challenge pushed me to write a vacation rental ebook and rethink what I could create next.
I reflect on breath as the simplest mindfulness anchor, from hiking and stress relief to sitting with thoughts instead of overthinking.
I begin a deeper mindfulness practice through Tricycle, Lodro Rinzler, Buddhism, and the pull to understand my own mind.
I sit with silence at home and on Kelowna hikes, thinking about introversion, Buddhism, my daughter, and quiet as a presence.
I continue Infinite Jest by reflecting on David Foster Wallace's depiction of depression and the horror beyond ordinary sadness.