Category Archives: Massachusetts
But I will say that—for me—being confined to my home has sometimes felt liberating in a small and quiet way.
As Smith, Buber, and Gerwig remind me, we cannot be fully actualized people to everyone we meet
The first time I took communion with wine, I was at a church in Boston and wearing hiking boots. And Yo-Yo Ma was there.
Perhaps my first mistake was expecting that I would ever entirely grow out of it.
“I’m actually on a connecting flight, traveling to a corn hole tournament. It’s a pretty big deal,” the man in the seat behind me announced.
I was suddenly aware of everything: the squelch of the slider door’s rubber seal releasing as my brother came in from the yard. The creak and crash of the screen door to the garage behind my dad.
I grew up knowing that I would not date a woman unless we were going to get married. No pressure, you’ll know when you know, but figure it out and don’t mess it up or your entire life will be ruined.
I didn’t know how to write about a rain jacket on Palm Sunday after forty-four people died in their churches.
When you start to recognize people and places, and you start to be recognized, you start to feel home. Re-cognize—from the Latin cognoscere, “to know.” To re-know, or to know again.