If the spirit moves you, please donate to keep this blog going (think of it as a tip jar — like what you read? tip me…)
If you asked one hundred people who know me, I’m willing to place a large bet that you’ll get one hundred different answers. I guess it’s that way: people know each other through some role or another through which they… Continue Reading →
In the barrio where I grew up, we called ourselves, Chicanos. I always believed that was what I was: A Chicano kid. I had no idea growing up that there isn’t any real such thing as a Chicano. I came… Continue Reading →
It’s been thirty-one (31) years since my grandmother passed away. When I think of her, I still become choked up and how much my family and I lost with her passing. She was my family’s cornerstone and when cancer took… Continue Reading →
I sit back and wonder: Could this have happened to anyone other than a Chicano kid who grew up in what amounted to the projects in Santa Fe, NM who happened to get a Commodore 64 for Christmas? I mean,… Continue Reading →
Someone could easily criticize the work I do as: “all talk no action.” The thing is, generally, people don’t really make changes in their lives unless they come to see that the road they’re on is too difficult to walk… Continue Reading →
I think it’s a true statement that a person with a deep and big heart will experience suffering. I also think that those who do feel deeply can sometimes believe that there’s something wrong. I’ve seen several people in early… Continue Reading →
I once heard a group of therapists talking about client readiness. They went back and forth about approaches and methodologies; I was mostly disinterested until someone said, “We shouldn’t be opening doors that we can’t close.” Since then, I’ve used… Continue Reading →
Clouds make noise. I know they do because I hear them all the time. It’s a loud, grumbling noise. Like a jet. Thing is, it’s no jet thunder, but the sound that a thick and dense and gray mass makes… Continue Reading →
When I was young, maybe nine or ten years old, I wore a purple t-shirt that had a muscle-bound guy wearing a “wife-beater” and blue bandana over his head. He had his fist raised to the sky and behind him… Continue Reading →
If the spirit moves you, please donate to keep this blog going (think of it as a tip jar — like what you read? tip me…)
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