Thoughts on Skinny Dipping, Identity, and Taking My Kid to a Rock Show

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to identity and how we discern who we are based on what we do. For some people, that might be their career. I have many friends who have pursued one ambition doggedly, and with success, for years or decades. Other friends find their passion in one cause, or maybe two. Some dabble, collecting little pieces of interests that create a mosaic of themselves.

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She Has Trouble Acting Normal When She’s Nervous

The last few weeks have left me raw. A bundle of nerve endings too close to the surface, chafed by every tiny demand thrown by life. It would short circuit and leave me feeling stuck in the murky darkness, where feelings are different. Less than and greater than at the same time — a heavy fog shrouding the world in a deep sense of dread and confusion. I was aware that there were alternatives to the be found — that happiness did exist as a gossamer, intangible idea somewhere beyond the grey. A theoretical thing. If I reached for it, my hand came back empty.

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