This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

At times, we have to just wait for the day when we’ll see the fruit
Prohibition was disaster with alcohol, still a disaster with other drugs
Some moms can’t handle the job, but they do the best they can
Liberal NPR, PBS? Why should tax money pay to influence culture?
Is it persistence or stubbornness to keep chasing uncertain outcomes?
All sides rushing to assign blame in theater shootings only leads to error
Take time to give honest praise, even when it’s just about a dog
Will Honduras establish the first modern free city? It’s possible
Who ‘owns’ children? And who should step in when parents fail?