By U.S. State
By Country
Last Days
by Jenna Griffin | Apr 10, 2018 | France
In your last days in this little town, you will start to see things as you saw them in the first days.
My First Spin Class
by Bart Tocci | Apr 9, 2018 | Placeless
Spinning is for the classic Millennials who buy high-tech gear, who wear bike shorts with butt pads, whose sleeveless shirts were purchased like that.
Songs for My Daughter
by Paul Menn | Apr 8, 2018 | Placeless
Songs that remind me of her, that bring me peace, that I hope will inspire her.
Cream Cheese and Bagels
by Caroline (Higgins) Nyczak | Apr 7, 2018 | Placeless
And I walk with the man I am going to marry and my brother and Zachary who is basically my brother and we think about Ryan who was basically our brother.
Slackcountry Snow
by Josh deLacy | Apr 6, 2018 | Washington
Then I pointed my skis over the edge and leaned forward so my weight eased me into the wide couloir, and it felt like I was plummeting and the snow exploding around me like a warzone.
Growing into Solitude
by India Daniels | Apr 5, 2018 | Chicago, Grand Rapids
I haven’t outgrown my loneliness, but I do think I’m growing into my own solitude.
Friendzone, USA
by Caitlin Gent | Apr 4, 2018 | Placeless
I see you, O Downcast Man, sitting in the passenger’s seat. Chances are, you’re wondering how you got here.
My Sisyphean Battle with the Snooze Button
by Meg Schmidt | Apr 3, 2018 | Placeless
Sisyphus may roll his stone, but I have my morning alarm.
Combination Skateboard and Taco Bell
by Carolyn Muyskens | Apr 2, 2018 | Canada
I think sometimes being a runner has trained me too well to use that overrule, to endure whatever path lies before me, to be patient to a fault—to stay the course when the course is going to kill me.
Reading World News without Losing your Mind
by Katerina Parsons | Apr 2, 2018 | Placeless
Reading the news well and responding to it is not everything, but it is something—and so I won’t refuse.
Morning Pages
by Douglas Chu | Mar 31, 2018 | Placeless
When I put pen to paper, there’s only room for one thought at a time. Every thought is on equal footing.
Greeting Cards
by Ashley Pace | Mar 30, 2018 | Placeless
I don’t believe in a god anymore. This wasn’t without cost, and there was grief, naturally. But after grief comes normalcy. Also, humour.
Future Lust
by Ty Bleeker | Mar 29, 2018 | Placeless
Remember: you have more time to do the things you want to do than you might think.
Terrible, Wonderful Love
by Matt Coldagelli | Mar 28, 2018 | Placeless
Never had I been overcome with such a surge of euphoria accompanied by petrifying fear and grief.
Newer Normal
by Brad Zwiers | Mar 27, 2018 | Placeless
The new tyranny of everything-at-once feels like a distant dystopia, and the sky looks a different color, and there’s another new, another normal.
I Took the Cedar-Strip Canoe Down the Most Remote River in Michigan… in the Winter
by Nick Meekhof | Mar 26, 2018 | Michigan
Getting into the river was a comically tedious process. Everything was covered in a foot of snow, and the banks were mostly iced-over.
Everything Depends on Not Squishing Spiders
by Jack VA | Mar 25, 2018 | Placeless
I believe every crushed spider, on some level, represents a failure to respect and love the world we’ve been given.
Regarding Remembrance
by Lauren (Boersma) Harris | Mar 24, 2018 | Placeless
And, on that Sunday, George remembered.
Tax Season, Toil, and the Non-triumph of Work: A Meditation on Ecclesiastes
by Julia LaPlaca | Mar 23, 2018 | Placeless
What has a man from all the toil and striving of heart with which he toils beneath the sun? For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation.
The Society of an Onion
by Paula Manni | Mar 22, 2018 | Placeless
Last week, I spent an hour and nineteen minutes with an onion. Inspired by Robert Capon’s twenty-two-page chapter on the theological implications of mindful onion contemplation, I came prepared for a reflective and mystical experience.
The Great Tassel Shaft
by Gabe Gunnink | Mar 20, 2018 | Placeless
I want the noble purpose of an educator without having to put in the hours. I want to retain a teacher’s saintly glow without having to fight for the daily miracles.
The Pen is Just as Mighty
by Mary Margaret Healy | Mar 19, 2018 | Pennsylvania
No algorithm is going to teach mandated reporters that white families are just as dangerous as other families.
We Would Prefer Not To
by Ben DeVries | Mar 18, 2018 | Illinois
Turning out in droves despite rain and wind and snow, we marched and chanted and beat on bucket-drums and blew on whistles and papered the campus with fliers. We disrupted classes. We shut down buildings.
Liner Notes with Tony, Part II: Generating Buzz for Ryn Weaver
by Tony Ditta | Mar 17, 2018 | Placeless
If you ever hear me screaming “What if there’s more? What if there’s more?” I’m just singing along.
The 2018 NCAA Tournament: A Primer
by Andrew Knot | Mar 16, 2018 | Placeless
Coming off a slow, ugly but eventually conclusive first-round victory over Montana, the Wolverines are riding a wave of 10-straight wins. May the streak run longer than their inseams.
Potato Salad Diaries (Volume II)
by Cassie Westrate | Mar 15, 2018 | Placeless
November 19, 2014
I blew strawberry gelatin mix out of my nose today.
I don’t want to talk about it.
The Purpose Driven Toddler: Seven Steps to a Righteous Rugrat
by Catherine Kramer | Mar 13, 2018 | Placeless
Locusts. They were good enough for John the Baptist; they are good enough for your toddler.
Speak Again
by Abby Zwart | Mar 12, 2018 | Placeless
I still talk to myself. Big conversations I’ve rehearsed of late include a breakup, a car insurance claim, and a defense of “inappropriate” literature I’ve chosen for a class.
Pothole Culture Shock
by Elaine Schnabel | Mar 11, 2018 | Indiana, Korea
I didn’t swerve around the pothole because I didn’t see it. In many ways, I’ve forgotten how to look outside myself and outside my culture.
Bloom and Grow
by Jenna Griffin | Mar 10, 2018 | France
I think when we look down on children it’s because we have momentarily, or perhaps chronically, forgotten that little kid inside earnestly whispering, “Don’t forget me. I’m still here.”
