Archive
Category: Practice
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Silence Is Not Always Absence
I remember sitting in a sterile, fluorescent-lit room in the oncology ward, listening to a man describe the specific, hollow ache of a request…
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Forgiveness Is a Decision Repeated, Not a Feeling Achieved
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital room in the late nineties, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and the low, rhythmic…
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Naming a Fault Out Loud Removes Its Cover
I remember sitting in a cramped, fluorescent-lit hospital room at three in the morning, listening to a man try to perform a version of…
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Naming Three Things Changes What You Notice
I remember sitting in a dim hospital room in the late nineties, holding the hand of a man who had lost almost everything in…
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A Weekly Stop Is Harder Than a Weekly Start
I remember sitting in a small, sterile hospital room late one Tuesday, watching a man try to “relax” by scrolling through news feeds on…
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Fasting Was Never Mainly About Food
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital breakroom, watching a young man try to explain his new “intermittent fasting” regimen as if it were…
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Writing It Down Slows the Thought Enough to See It
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital room in the late nineties, the smell of antiseptic heavy in the air, listening to a…
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Solitude Is Not the Same as Loneliness
I remember sitting in a small, sterile hospital room during a particularly long night shift, watching a man try to find peace through a…
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Fifteen Minutes Nobody Else Has Claimed
I spent thirty years in hospital wards, sitting by bedsides where the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the heavy, unspoken…
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Short and Daily Beats Long and Occasional
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital room during a double shift, the smell of antiseptic clinging to my scrubs, watching a man…