Before the last, nationwide No Kings day, I shared that I would be bringing my Lego. For the next one (this coming Saturday, October 18th), I’ve made a different plan, but—just like last time—it takes into account who I am at a cellular level. Am I a
1. Let us stipulate that the “listicle” is the lowest form of human writing. 2. In my defense, when E.M. Forster burned onto my brain the command “Only connect!”, he didn’t add “but never in the form of a listicle.” 3. (In Forster’s defense, there was no
After last week’s post, the questions I got fell into three buckets. The first type came mainly from people I know in real life and sounded something like this: Are you happy with your decision not to run for office? Back when we talked about it, you seemed pretty
I moved to America just in time to catch Bicentennial fever. In our new town—Cincinnati, Ohio—flags were everywhere. In our new house, the fixtures chosen by the previous owners featured an astonishing number of bald eagles. The shag carpet in my new bedroom was—I kid you not—
In mediation, the work I’ve been doing for a while now, warring parties come together not to reconcile their competing worldviews but instead to find some narrow path forward—some practical way to co-exist peacefully. In most mediation environments, the parties are asked to proceed “in good faith.
Like many people with schedules that are arguably too flexible, I have consumed a flood of news and opinion in the 48+ hours since Charlie Kirk was shot. I’ve also started, and re-started, this post a hundred times. Here’s why you didn’t hear from me at
When people ask me about the value of a fancy degree—I went to Harvard for undergrad and Wharton for my MBA—I don’t demur. There’s no question my education helped my career: a college friend and I raised venture capital without any startup experience. I lined up
I bought this reusable dishcloth for a dear friend and then failed to give it to her because it spoke to me so deeply. If these unhinged times have you arguing with yourself as much as anyone else, please consider joining the next What Now Zoom. A few of us
One of the kindest things my husband Chris does is walk around the house, quietly turning off the lights that I meant to turn off but accidentally switched on because I’m distracted by my own thoughts. I’m not just bad with lights—I’m terrible at a lot
Joan Didion famously called writing “a hostile act.” In an interview, she explained: “It's hostile in that you're trying to make somebody see something the way you see it, trying to impose your idea, your picture. It's hostile to try to wrench around someone
Some of you know that I bought a kei truck last year, shortly after the election. I knew I’d need something stronger than a jigsaw puzzle to absorb my nervous energy while I figured out where—and how—to plug in to this brave new world. I’m not
“Honey, lately your low self-esteem is just good common sense.” This line, delivered in devastating style by Cloris Leachman, is the only thing I remember from the 2004 Adam Sandler movie Spanglish. It haunts me whenever I feel hobbled by self-doubt. In other words: daily. Last week, I