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We've Moved

Hello Friends! I want to thank you all for visiting me over the years. Especially within the last twelve months. I began this blog with good intentions. Specifically, to begin and hone my craft as a writer and an author. From 2005 to the very end of 2018 (December 28th, to be exact)I failed my intentions. But, as I have learned over the years, good intentions are as good as broken promises. In fact, they are broken promises when between ourselves. During 2018 I wrote a book with my daughter. It was a really fun project but when it came time to go through with the self-publishing I dragged my feet, The facts, I was afraid of failure. Of putting myself out there in the universe. Finally, my daughter put her foot down and insisted we go through the process. Once it was done I realized something important. I am actually a fucking writer, author, and creative human being. So, I kickstarted my blog again and I was surprised and overwhelmed by the following I quickly gained. By mid
Recent posts

The True Art of Sorry

I speak often about the art of saying sorry - or the art of the apology. Some people don't accept an apology unless they hear the words 'I am sorry' , others accept excuses as apologies, while others don't apologize at all. Me, I am somewhere in the middle. Well, perhaps not, I will never accept an excuse as an apology. But, I am somewhere in the middle of giving an apology and not. Recently I read an article by a person whose work I have enjoyed before, but this one just didn't sit well with me. Normally I will link back to the author and article - however, this time I will refrain from doing that. In the article, the writer was suggesting that people don't say sorry enough. She rants on about situations that frankly make no sense to me, citing situations where a person wouldn't, and shouldn't say sorry. For example A spotty glass at a restaurant, A sold-out item on a menu, A sold=-out item at a store, A friend not saying sorry if you

When Failure Happens

Only 14 days ago I published the article Health Matters When It's a Matter of Health . In my article, I talk about my journey to weight gain and the physical state I am currently in. At this point, I was just finished week four of my 45-week weight loss journey. The goal; 45 pounds in 45 weeks - which equated to 1 pound per week. In week one I lost the one pound - from 220 to 219 pounds. And, 219 pounds is where I stayed for weeks two to four. Then, I went down to 218 pounds in week five; now I am back to 219 in week six. This was not going as planned, by the end of week six I was supposed to be at 214 pounds and I lost a total of 1 pound. I could accept if some weeks I didn't reach my goal, but if I am not reaching my goal consistently, I have to adjust my goal, or how I am going about it. Making the Connection Goals are essential in achieving a quality of life. They can be as simple as I want to make your bed every morning until it becomes a habit. Or, they can be


When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. ~ Wayne Dyer Perspective changes the way we see things. In turn, it changes the way we feel, think, act, and manifest. When I was young I was told a story about perspective that has always stayed with me. Personally, I like the version I was told but it isn't received well by most people so, instead, I came across this version which I think still illustrates the point clearly. "Two twin brothers grew up with an alcoholic father. One of them became an alcoholic just like his father while the other refrained from alcohol. The alcoholic brother struggled in life and when asked why he was an alcoholic he stated: 'I followed my father's example' . The non-alcoholic brother saw success in many areas of his life and when asked why he wasn't an alcoholic he stated: 'I followed my father's example' . This story illustrates many things. But what it really s

Raising Generations

When my grandson was born I felt I was too young to be called grandpa. I was a very young first-time father and was only 35 when my grandson was born. So, when I made that declaration my daughter asked: "What would you like to be called then dad?" and I responded "PAPA!" ; from that point on I was PAPA. A title I take very seriously and with the greatest of pride. When James was born I was so excited to meet him; and, as he grew I became more excited to meet who he was becoming. This dude is incredibly smart with a healthy side of social intelligence and emotional intelligence - except when he is reading, then all bets are off for social awareness. The summer James was two he and my daughter moved into my house. It has been nearly five years and there have been massive changes in all of us individually and as a group. Taking Care of Children If you didn't know, the above subtitle is a play on the song title Taking Care of Business by Bachman

To Be or Not To Be (Nice), That is the Question!

"I would like you to meet Jason, he's a nice guy." These words were always, and always will be, among the most devastating I have ever heard. And, to make it all worse, I have used this sentence to describe myself! WTF?!? Whenever I have heard someone introduce me like this it was always like in a movie where shit goes into slow motion, each and every word is dragged out, time seems to stop. Then I hear the record scratching sound as I am replaying each and every person's facial expression. It was always especially worse when they were introducing me to someone I was interested in, or someone who I could benefit from having a professional relationship with. I was always left with this urge to yell out "NO! I am not a nice guy! Really I am not." But, that would have come across more as I am a real asshole, and I am desperate. The only advantage of coming across as an asshole is that I would have likely landed the girl, or the relationship with the

Follow Your Own Path

One of the most difficult parts of being a father, for me, is to stand by and allow my children the freedom to make their own mistakes. I was raised in an unstable environment by both of my parents until I was thirteen. Through my life, I was given nothing but mixed messages. My father mostly gave me free rein to make mistakes and grow from them, except whenever he needed to punish someone - then it didn't matter, I was a target for everything. My mother, on the other hand, didn't let me make mistakes. When my parents split I spent the most informative years of my life being judged in an underhanded way by my mom; on the other hand she sheltered from making mistakes - or at least attempted to. When I did make these mistakes I was more disillusioned than before. Because of these circumstances, I grew up sometimes being okay with making mistakes and learning from them, and, sometimes not being okay with my mistakes. I became judgemental of others' when they made c