Every Christmas is different, and this year will be no exception. I’m good with a departure from turkey, and am open to coconut milk eggnog. But of course, adapting to change doesn’t always come easy, especially when love is involved.
Protestant Work Ethic or High Latitude Adaptation?
North Europeans like myself are notoriously prone to bipolar “disorder” and seasonal affective “disorder.” Are these really disorders, or are our minds and bodies telling us that we are forcing ourselves into a pattern of summer productivity which is ultimately unsustainable?
I Am of the Human Race
Take pride in who you are and where you come from. Remember to give the same treatment to the people you encounter every day.
The Way to Christmas
I hope this book becomes a theme for the coming Christmas; it is as timely as it was when it appeared just over a hundred years ago. What other signposts are hidden in my memory, ready to point down “rabbit holes” when the time is ripe for uncovering old information in a new context?
Making A Difference: Camille Geraldi – Possible Dream Foundation
Camille and Michael began adopting children with special needs in 1986. At that point they had no idea their kindness would grow over four decades to a family of 88 and develop into a foundation to help those with special needs and their families.
Living with AI – Part 1: Sooner Than We Think
Somewhere in the past decade, the race toward creating artificial computer intelligence has made incredible strides toward making AI a reality. But what does that mean for humanity and how we might live our lives together with super-intelligent AI systems? Some scientists believe we should find the answer before it finds us.
Stage Clothes
We, like fabric as one, as the stage is set and the actors prepare for their final acts.
Lessons From Spilled Milk
The milk spilled across the table and all over the floor. Its white stain splashed outward and became a ghostly firework there beside the toes of his shoes, which barely scraped the old hardwood floors so used to absorbing these accidents.
Star, Star. Mirror, Mirror.
Often, I find myself looking up for hope. Always I come to find courage inside.
Often, I find hope in the stars. Always I’m led back to the light within.
Stars are distant reminders of who I am truly. Mysterious. Comforting. Wild and free. Stars whisper loudly to me, “Anything is possible.”
Learning in the Community Garden
A little boy, maybe 4 or 5 years old, asked me about the bees. Then he saw the little star-shaped blue flowers of the borage plant nearby. I bent down and told him, “You can eat these. They are tasty and good for you.” He looked at me kind of wide-eyed and said, “Really?”
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