How Adulthood Helped Me Unmask The Real Treat Behind Halloween

Halloween is my favorite holiday. When I was younger, it was a full-blown festival. Halloween started the weekend before October 31st, with a costumed family pumpkin-carving party. It continued with a costume parade at school on the day-of and an evening of trick-or-treating with friends. The grand finale involved my parents hosting their friends with beer and pizza while us kids took to the living room floor for candy-categorization and trading. Halloween made me endlessly happy. Sure, what’s not to love about Halloween for a kid? You get to stay up later than usual so that your…

Listen to the latest post   Read Recent Posts   Topics I’m Exploring     Get latest posts delivered!

Why 2018 Will Be The Year I Stop Caring About What I Deserve

It was a December in the late 90’s, and my school was on break for the holidays. I was spending the afternoon with one of my best friends and we were passing time as only kids know how. We were upstairs in the “play room,” whose prime open space had recently been colonized by her dad’s treadmill. “How does this work?” I asked, already standing on the belt. My friend started to respond but I was too busy punching buttons. The belt was whirring, and I was jogging, then running,…

Why 29 Will Be My Most Unbalanced Year Yet

I’ve always used my birthday as a time to stop and think about where I’ve been and where I’m going. The annual tradition is one way I try to build self-awareness and achieve balance. This year in particular, however, I didn’t want to stop. In some ways, I had been stopped all year and I wanted to celebrate my renewed ability to go-go-go. Last year, I had knee surgery four days after my birthday. I spent the next six months rebuilding my strength, and the six months after that rebuilding my…

How a Japanese Chef Taught Me That I Am What I Don’t Eat

I grew up in a household where wasting food was unacceptable—not just in theory, but in practice. One of our (many) dining table rules was that you couldn’t get up out of your chair until all the food on your plate had vanished (and not because you had snuck it into our dog’s mouth). My mom, the gatekeeper to the kitchen sink, was the enforcer of this rule. The good news is that my mom is a fabulous cook. She takes into account dietary restrictions, preferences, and irrationals. There’s no…