Move Along, Dear

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The Gratitude Gospel: Day 11

In our rental, I have the kind of view that most writers would kill to have. A simple wooden desk in front of a wall of windows that look out to a forest (and swamp, though that sounds less picturesque).

If you are a mother, however, the hooting owls and the relentless woodpeckers start to get to you after a little while (at least when a nap is desired).

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Advice for the Tree Hugger

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“I don’t know.”

It’s a response I get often from college students when I inquire about their goals for the future. They frequently come to me frustrated by the taste of adulthood that freshman year offers.

Decisions – the ones that we know really count – can paralyze us.

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