Musings

By Sean Dietrich Alabama, 1963—it was chilly. It was gray. A skinny Christmas tree sat in the corner of his rundown home, undecorated. No gifts. His wife was a secretary. He punched a clock, wore leather gloves, and moved steel for a living. Theirs wasn’t a particularly unusual story. They...

By Rick Moore After Hurricane Michael hit the Panhandle of Florida, a friend of mine gave advice to someone whose house was wrecked. He said to make four piles: a pile to keep, a pile to sell, a pile to give away and a pile to throw away. That sounded...

By Kirk McCarley My mother had a fond acquaintance with “they.”  She often referenced they in conversation.  They always seemed to know the best restaurant.  They knew the right kind of car to buy, where to shop for clothes, and would even tell you the best places to vacation.  I was fascinated with they even though I’m not sure...

By Lauren Catanese “I define connection as the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgement; and when they derived sustenance and strength from the relationship.”   -Brene Brown Life is all about connection. Brene Brown says, “We are hardwired...

The predawn sky had just a hint of gray in preparation for sunrise as we left the hotel in Vicksburg headed to Oklahoma for a wedding. Overnight rain left the air clean and fresh-smelling even though the humidity was heavy as a steam room in the gym. It looked like we...

I don’t like your writing because you are a dumbass. Thanks, I DON’T CARE IF YOU USE MY NAME DEAR I-DON’T-CARE: Let’s go back in time. Now, of course, I don’t know your personal story, but let’s be theoretical here. Pretend your mother and father just met two minutes ago. The circumstances that...

By Kirk McCarley What frustrates you? Where are my keys? Your order is out of stock. I missed my flight. We’ve selected someone else for the job. Finding inspiration for a written piece often frustrates me.  It did songwriter Robert Lamm too. Lamm was maddingly annoyed.  It was the wee hours of the...

By Shelby Lynne Today for the first time in a long time I looked into the mirror and I recognized the reflection. I walked out the door without second guessing myself. I had a stride in my walk that screamed confidence within me. It was the strangest feeling. It’s been so long since I...

By Lauren Catanese “The mind is like a monkey.” Said the monk who was teaching me to meditate. I was in a temple in Penom Phen, Cambodia. I knew exactly what the monk meant. My mind was raving from, “ Am I doing this right, how will I know, is...

By Sean Dietrich Colatta is her name. She and I are in the elevator together. She is pushing a large cart of cleaning supplies and mini shampoos. Colatta is short, cheery. She’s wearing scrubs. She is pure Alabama. She has an accent that won’t quit, and wears a War Eagle...