during a recent email exchange with a friend, something prompted me to remember what i call "the conversation game"; have you ever played? the conversation game

"dad, i can't wait with you any more. i have to go. i want you to know that i love you, and that i'm proud to be your son." losing my dad to cancer

did you ever notice that when you smile at the person you see in the mirror, that person smiles back? the hall of mirrors

we are herd animals. and when herd animals get separated from the herd, they get nervous. it's not "natural". it doesn't feel "right". it doesn't feel "normal". when we stop feeding our addiction, not only do we have to deal with physical withdrawal from the nicotine, we also have to deal with the psychological "withdrawal" of separation; because, when we stop smoking, we're leaving the herd. the herd mentality

you've been saving all your extra money for a long, long time and you've just bought yourself a brand-new boat. it's a little rowboat; shiny and clean, not a scratch on it, not a speck of dirt to mar its beautifully-painted surface, no algae, no rust on the locks, not even a grain of sand inside it. it's never been in the water. it's immaculate. pristine. you're very proud of it. an empty rowboat