Summer Fun #couchtour Edition

I have to admit, I am extra excited that Dead & Company’s kicks off tonight.

I may not be able to be there in person, but the couch tour experience will do just fine until my show comes around in July.


Vacations End…

But the memories endure and carry us through the transition back to the work world.

We saw so many beautiful things on our train ride through California, Oregon and Washington. There is so much beauty everywhere if we give ourselves the chance to slow down and look.

Here is one moment from the train. Early morning in the high desert of Northern California. Fog and the rising sun.

I am learning every day that there is something that is just as beautiful as those moments of the past, waiting in this present moment if we would just take a second to look up and see it.

Be present so that the beauty of this moment, the one right here, right now, can be seen.

Beauty Isn’t Random

Sitting on a bench,

Waiting on a train,

Got this random thing behind me

Poking the bucket for my brain

I turn to see what’s there

And I’m reminded once again

Beauty isn’t random

It’s all there with intention

Waiting for you to notice it.

It could be seen as an encroaching shrub needing a good trimming.

But no, that’s not it.

Sometimes, beauty…


It’s gotta tap your shoulder

Or bop you on the head to wake you up.


We bought these flowers on Friday to help make our table something special for Shabbat and they have slowly blooming in the days since. Each day a few new blossoms begin to open and stretches the beauty of that day just a little bit more into the rest of the other six. Reminding me that the One Day helps carry us through the other six–that the single moment of beauty can extend into other things. Things mundane. Things profane.

The gift is the moment, yes. But that moment reaches forward—or maybe we reach backward, because time is a wibbly wobbly, timey, wimey mess after all —

And now, I think, my metaphor has run its course.

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I was on a sunrise run this morning, and as I jogged through a stretch of trail in the estuary, The Sun was hanging low on the horizon, fat and orange in the hazy sky. 

“I need this as the picture to go with my post,” I thought and pulled my phone out of my arm band snapped a picture and then put my phone back in the band. What I missed, though, was that as I put my phone away, it snapped a different picture (of the inside of my arm band) and used that as my run photo. 

I didn’t realize any of this, of course, until I was at home. Home with no commemorative photo from my run, or of the sunrise. 

It was a glorious sunrise, even if I don’t have a photo to share. 

It’s okay if we don’t Insta Face My Book Space Gram everything, right?

I mean, the run happened. And the sun happened. 

(No photo or it didn’t happen?)

All the moments we share are really special moments, or sometimes they’re very ordinary moments. 

But the moments we can’t capture, or don’t capture, they aren’t any less rapturous because we didn’t capture them.