Just had another birthday.

Another one!

They just keep piling up.

Imagine it’s your 99th birthday. 

Your children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren form a devoted circle around you as you sit quietly, reflecting on a life well lived. 

According to Todoist, I am a Grand Master.

I have tracked over 38,391 tasks over the number of years I have used this to-do list app.

And I have completed 8,335 of them.

I tend to dream about bears.

Usually, a grizzly trying to get inside my house.

He will paw at a screen door with ginormous claws as I desperately try to deadbolt him out.

Then, suddenly, he’s the back door trying to get in.

It’s terrifying.

I have always been an optimist.

My spirit generally points me toward the hopeful.

Toward the glass half full.

I once stood at the center of the world.

I was at the line of 0° latitude, 0 minutes, 0 seconds.

Yes, a midpoint between the north and south pole: I was in Quito, Ecuador.

I studied piano from age 6 until about 13.

We were all expected to learn piano—and at least one other instrument.

My mother had studied to be an opera singer, and believed everyone should know how to read music. So, we learned.

I love summer.

It makes me not just happy, but ecstatic!

I’m sure it’s seasonal affective disorder.

(I have diagnosed myself.)

Without sunshine, I have a months-long case of the blahs.

Now that it’s summer, we’re biking a lot.

Exploring country back roads, rail trails on old railroad beds, hiking paths, and single-track trails in the woods.

Discovering a lot of things we did not know existed before.

It’s the most brilliant time of year—summer!

Happy Independence Day.

Not just to those in the U.S.—but to those around the world.

They say the basement is like the subconscious.

Whatever is stored there carries energy for that thing in your life.

Is it time to do a little cleaning?

Have you ever asked someone a question, but another question lurks behind that one?

And the second question is the bigger, deeper, more important one, but you don’t know that or don't have access to it in that moment? 

I’m slowly losing the ability to be 100 percent here.

Or 100 percent there.

Too used to being in multiple places at the same time.

For example, typing an email while on the phone with my partner.

Last weekend, my partner and I went biking near our house.

Woods and country roads. Fairly rural.

As we neared the top of a hill, we saw something in front of us.

A big black bear!

There’s an old Jewish saying: Walk so close to your rabbi that dust from his sandals is on your face.

In other words, follow closely in the footsteps of your revered spiritual leader.

What signals is the universe sending to you?

How is it trying to get your attention?

A red cardinal might show up in your yard just after you lost someone important to you. This happy, vibrant bird is a sign that you are being visited by a loved one who has passed.

It’s spring: Time for the annual Stick-Picking-Upping.

Winter is hard on those trees.

(Actually, it’s hard on all of us.)

I remember the day that my mother gave up.

She was exhausted.

She had weird rashes on her hands from chemo. She would get so sick to her stomach that she couldn’t eat for days. She was tired all the time.

What did you love to do when you were a kid?

You can probably name something that you once loved to do that you don't do today. What passion did you once have that you don’t pursue any longer?

Thanks to my Peloton, I’m finding my way to love.

Not love of the romantic kind.

The love that says, “I’m good with me as I am right now” kind.

This is not because my body is in better shape. Still a ways to go with that.

Are you counting the days?

Weeks?

Waiting for that new door to open before you?

Perhaps it’s the hope of a new job. A new relationship. Your next home. Or a new life.