Smells Like Teen (or Adult) Boredom

Photo by Pewari (Creative Commons)

Photo by Pewari (Creative Commons)


I tweet on Twitter.

I like on Facebook.

I wear headphones to listen to audio on my computer.

I stare at bright screens filled with shapes and colors.

I read countless words on the page and screen.

Each one is here to entertain me.


I rule this virtual kingdom I’ve created.

I pull the strings with the click of a button.

Make no mistake who is in charge of this world.


The breeze will blow,

the birds will sing,

the hungry child cries,

and I can’t spend five minutes in silence.


Brighter Today


Photo by Alvandi Tabrizi (Creative Commons)


The sun is brighter this morning.

Not hotter

but brighter.


Yesterday was cold, dark, and dreary.

But today is a new day.

The colors are more vivid.

Reds redder.

Greens greener.

Blues bluer.


The rain washed the dullness away

and now everything looks new.

The clouds surround the sky

and support this new light.

Quiet Moment in a Beautiful Mess


Photo by beautifulrevelry (Creative Commons)

An Elmo coloring book hides the blueberry stain on the carpet.

Teddy Grahams, Goldfish crackers, and popsicle sticks find their way into my shoe.

The Little Engine That Could finds refuge under a cloth diaper.

The black ottoman makes a great track for Thomas and all of his friends.

The bike in the corner reminds me soon I’ll be outside.

I listen to the quiet waves over the monitor.

Each breath is full of comfort and peace as they sleep.

I wait for the pitter-patter to come down the stairs.

What a beautiful mess we’ve made together.





Faith Defined

Crossed sight

Photo by Keunerr (Creative Commons)

What is faith?

Is it religion?

Is it opium of the masses?

Or is it something in our soul?

Faith is hard to define.

Sure, love is difficult, but faith is even more complex.

It is faith which stops many of us from putting a bullet in our brain.

Faith holds us together.

Faith helps keep us relatively sane.

We all have the heart of a killer.

Me? I’m just like Hitler.

You? You’re just like Dahmer.

We’re as dirty, filthy, and nasty as it gets.

Is there any hope for us?

How can we ever get out of the sewer?

Deep inside, you know you will.


That—is faith.



This blog is part of a link-up with the Writers Unite group answering the questions: How does faith influence your art? What role does it play? Does your faith have implications in what you write? You can read more answers to these questions this week by searching the Twitter hashtag #faithartlife.

An Observation

Two small faces laugh at each other.

Filled with life and joy.

While a mother gazes out the window.

Worn down and broken.

She attempts to rest—even if just for a moment.

She looks back to days gone by.

Before she had to hold the pieces together.

Now life is filled with Spiderman backpacks and glittery shoes

sleepless nights

never ending days

and loneliness—pain—the rest of us don’t understand.

She gathers them up.

And they go on their way.

Hand in hand.



5 Ways To Minimize Failure As You Create


Photo by Stock Monkeys (Creative Commons)

Failure is an unavoidable part of the creative process. But there are some ways you can minimize it:

1. Define your goals. If you don’t have a definable goal, you will ALWAYS fail. When I started out, I wanted to be liked—make that loved—by everyone. How attainable, right? It’s not.

2. Create for yourself first, not an audience. Create something you love. If you do this, it will not be failure. You have already succeeded to some degree.

3. Use your work to help others. You have unique gifts—do good with them. Share your work and let it encourage others.

4. Spend less time talking about creating. And spend much more time doing the act of creating. It’s easy to spend all your time talking–it even feels productive at times. But the truth is, it’s not. Action always crushes intention.

5. Go have some fun. There are no specific rules to follow when creating. If you aren’t having fun, go take a break.


Can you do me a favor? Create something as soon as possible. Even it means writing a sentence or taking some pictures with your phone—create something!

Please don’t let this post add to the noise—let’s use it as a challenge to create.

It’s time to get to work.


We All Want The Same Thing


Photo by Jakesmom (Creative Commons)

We all want to be inspired.

Sounds pretty simple doesn’t it? Michael Jordan, Joe Montana, Ernest Hemingway, Edgar Allan Poe, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, Mickey Mantle. What do they all have in common? They inspire people. Well, at least they inspired me.

Mediocrity, along with a sense of entitlement, are now considered core values to many.

I refuse to accept this.

I know we can do better.

Inspiration leads to action.

If you want my attention, inspire me.

If you want to sell something to me, inspire me.

If you want to lead me, inspire me.



What is something you can do inspire others?

For the Discouraged Dreamer



It is easy to get discouraged if you are dreaming big dreams.

But keep going. Keep grinding. Keep hustling.

It matters.

Even if you don’t think it does at this moment–it REALLY matters.

Keep moving forward.

Even if it’s just a small amount.

Small over time turns into big.


What’s something you can do—big or small—to keep moving forward in your dream?

Always Brighter Than You Think

YouTube Preview Image

Call it whatever you want: depression, the blues, loneliness, self pity, or any other term.

We’ve all felt it.

You might even be feeling it today.

It’s alright to want to run away from it all.

It’s alright to want to give up.

But don’t. 

It’s always brighter than you think.



Thanks to Collective Soul for such a cool song and video.

About 6 Months Later

Photo by Eric Nadeau (Creative Commons)

This is a short story I wrote about a year ago and it was my first adventure into fiction. I revised it some and thought I would share it with you. Thank you so much for reading and have a very Merry Christmas!

The bitter cold worsened with each step in the snow. The glow of red, green, and blue lights reminded him of a roaring fire—familiar, warm and safe. As Will moved down the street, he couldn’t help but glance in the windows and see families celebrating together. The sky darker and Will felt the same inside.

He walked up the driveway, and strolled into the living room falling on the couch. With a push of a couple buttons, he flipped through hundreds of channels on the TV. Several minutes later, he hit the power button again and went into the kitchen.

He picked up a box of cereal. Cereal and soup were the two main staples. One hot and one cold—the best of both worlds. If only everything were so simple. The freshly falling snow hypnotized him as he dreamed of their first Christmas together and looked to the corner where they sat by the fire with hot apple cider in hand.

“Snap out of it,” he thought to himself. A moment later, the phone rang.

Julie’s heart pounded as she stepped off the plane. The terminal in the airport was complete chaos on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. She wiggled her way through as quickly as possible. The conversations had blurred together; it was impossible to say who was to blame or what had really taken place. It was all in the past. It was time to start over.

She could call, but what could she say? Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Maybe a phone call was not a very good idea. She tried to walk faster past the moving sea of faces, but felt her heart sink as she saw a young family together with an infant. The dad held the baby girl close and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“This is all what really matters,” a voice inside whispered.


“Uh–hello,” he mumbled into the phone.

“Hey man, where are you? The party started twenty minutes ago. You said you’d bring the ice!”

“Sorry, I’m on my way right now.”

Will rushed out of the house and went to the gas station for ice. The Christmas music played gently over the small speakers and slightly lifted his spirits–until he realized it was one of Julie’s favorite Christmas songs. Time stood still until he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket with a text message.

“Where are you? Thought you were on your way?”

“At the gas station. Be right there.”

The snow began to swirl down. It was only a few miles to the party, but the black sky with white cascading down made it impossible to focus on anything but her.

Will pulled into the driveway and walked up to the house.

“Where is your tacky Christmas sweater?” Tom asked as he opened the door.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” Will responded.

Will walked into the house with the ice and went directly to the small wooden table. Some two-liter bottles and a punch bowl sat next to the plastic cups. Will held the cup to his lips. The tart flavor of the punch made him gag but he still managed to use the cup as a blockade of sorts; by holding the cup gracefully, he pretended to take sips. He scanned the room to find a safe zone. Men would be safe; inevitably the talk would be about football and work. Women were to be avoided. No unnecessary sympathy, empathy, or questions.

It had been almost six months since Julie left. Maybe some of the others had forgotten and this could be an enjoyable night. He wandered over to the food table. This distraction could give more time to scan. Soon the plate was filled with a couple wheat crackers, some cheese and a couple Christmas cookies.

Will then noticed his neighbor, Pete, across the room and went directly to him. They chatted about the weather, favorite Christmas movies, and predictably football.

“I gotta go Will, nice chatting with ya,” Pete said as he walked away.

Then an attractive twenty something blonde came over with a drink in her hand.

“Hey, you’rrrre cuuuttte,” the girl said.

“Thanks, I’m actually leaving the party now.” Will said.

“Well, do you want some company?” she said.

“Sorry, no thanks.”

As he walked out of the living room, Will noticed his co-worker Rick.

“Wow, I saw what just happened. Are you crazy?” Rick asked.

“Maybe a little,” he answered.

Rick said “I know you have had a rough time, why didn’t you take her home with you?”

“I have enough problems already.” Will replied.

Will began to walk to the door.

“Sorry Tom, I’m not feeling well. I’ll catch you later,” he said.

He walked back outside and felt the cold air enter his lungs. Will dusted off the windshield and felt the snow form into droplets on the steering wheel. The snow came down harder and the car inched home.

Minutes later, he stepped out of the car and noticed some footprints in the snow. He shrugged it off as nothing and walked around the house to the back door. As he turned the corner, he saw Julie. Without saying a word, they threw their arms around each other and pulled tight.