Jesus: The Perfect Human
This is not a religious argument.
It’s a human one.
It’s about how we learned to live at scale,
what that cost us,
and the one human life that showed what we lost.
It’s also about how that life found me again.
Living Intentionally For Evolving L.I.F.E.
Wisdom is how you live.
Month December 2025
Remembering Santa
A personal reflection on presence, presents, and the quiet migration of joy
The Day I Realized What I’d Been Building
There was a time I couldn’t name why my work felt heavy.
It wasn’t failure or burnout—it was the moment I realized I had been maintaining function where responsibility had quietly slipped away.
Eureka: Remembering Without Effort
From classrooms to memory care, I’ve noticed the same pattern: memory works best when presence arrives first. Sometimes remembering isn’t effort—it’s orientation.
Welcome to the Black Parade
This morning, a song from my youth opened something I didn’t realize I’d been carrying. Welcome to the Black Parade became the doorway—through absence, grace, and return—that led me back to a place I didn’t know I’d left. Sometimes the song you’ve carried the longest is the one that finally carries you home.
The Quiet Places That Still Hold Us Awake
Driving helped me remember something older than cars: the need for moments that hold our presence. As the world automates more of life, we face the quiet loss of the places that once returned us to ourselves.
Yes, Die Hard Is a Christmas Movie
We return to Die Hard every December not for the action, but for its quiet truth: a man trying to come home, a marriage searching for its center, and the courage it takes to tell the truth during the holidays. This is a reflection on grace, reconciliation, and why even the loudest stories hold a quiet Christmas heart.
Yes, Home Alone Is a Christmas Movie
We remember Home Alone for the chaos, but its real Christmas story hides in the quiet scenes — a church pew, a forgotten woman, and two strangers rediscovering the courage to return. This is a reflection on grace, honesty, and the small human moments that bring us home.