When I was in elementary school my soccer coach called me “space cadet” and a family friend said, “he lives in the clouds, but when he comes down he lands on a dime” (a compliment that I now cherish). I knew one wasn’t being kind in their assessment, but I didn’t really put a lot of thought into it either, maybe to their point, I was just spacing out.

I have spent most of my life taking a situation or emotion and twisting the narrative - not in a good way. It’s like a personal game of Poison Mad Libs.

Everyone knows I’m ______.  (incapable)

It’s another year, and like many, I’m thinking about the weight I put on over the holidays. Not the pounds you’d see in my face or gut, but what I added to my conscious, subconscious, body, and soul.

Last month’s fire on Maui, most notably in Lahaina, has been devastating. My heart goes out to the community and all those impacted by this tragedy. 

I’ve walked down the now unrecognizable streets of Lahaina with my family. I watched my daughter surf her first wave in the break where people took refuge.  I have earthed in the shade of the magnificent 150-year-old banyan tree that is scorched.

Turns out I’m an emotional crier. It began as a teen in the late 80s while watching the end of Scrooged. Yes, with Bill Murray. It should have been a sign.  As I’ve become more intune, the floodgates have only opened up further.  

For too long I’ve been trying to write my first newsletter. I’d like to say weeks, but it’s been months. Many of you have probably heard me say, “I’m not a perfectionist, I’m a fear of failure-ist.” That’s how I’ve felt about this. What should I write? It better be profound. If it’s not profound, I’ll look stupid. Analysis-paralysis.