When I published No Man’s Land, I figured not everyone would like my book. But what I failed to predict was that a reader would give it a bad review because they didn’t like the person I was ten years ago.

With so much violence and unrest in the world, the river offers lessons in patience, momentum and hope.

If you’re missing someone you love, this one’s for you.

Why did I choose the title No Man’s Land for my memoir about hiking the Colorado Trail? Despite its title, this is not a book against men.

“Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.” In today’s post, I share a few thoughts about what this Rumi quote means to me.

Happy birthday, America. You know I love you, but I don’t like you right now.

At age fifty-one, I need only take a short walk outside, and look down at my feet, to feel the lingering shame of one parent’s lesson from childhood, and the positive reframing of another. In this post, I explore how we can take the best parts of a lesson and reject the worst, to parent our own kids … and ourselves.

I feel more like a bear than a human these days. Reclusive. Solitary by choice. Wild and leery of humans. Today’s post shares how it’s been hard for me to re-enter society after the long, isolating hibernation of the pandemic … and the small steps I’m taking to forge human connection again.

That time I lost the use of an arm and was told it might take THREE YEARS to get it back.

I recently read Brandi Carlile’s scrappy and gorgeous memoir Broken Horses. But as I slid it onto the bookshelf, I couldn’t help but grumble, “You little shit.”