Cultivate Your Garden

It was the winter of 1988. I was a sophomore in college trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I could write a book about the things I did not know then. But one thing I did know was that I wanted to fully experience this life and see, feel and taste all that I could. And this: I wanted to be happy. Fulfilled. So when I was assigned to read one of the great works of the Enlightenment, Voltaire’s…

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Interpreter of Dreams

As in I need one. It is 5:56 a.m.  on a Saturday. I woke up in a cold sweat genuinely panicked that I was about to miss a crucial flight. I was at my current employer’s private air terminal waiting with 36 other people to get on the plane. Like I often do, I was sitting in one of the desks working; trying to get a few more things done before climbing on the plane. Now our corporate jets are not full…

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Add to Your Abbey Collection

When I was writing my master’s thesis on Edward Abbey and HD Thoreau, I prided myself on sleuthing around to find every book, every interview, even every audiotape Abbey had ever done. There is something special about hearing the unorthodox cadence and kindly nature of Ed’s voice reading “Dead Man at Grandview Point.” A few years later, my mom bought me a signed copy of The Journey Home at a garage sale, which I cherish. Now here’s one for the…

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