This is a cautionary tale about rocking the boat. My mother took me to the small college to begin my freshman year. A fine school, both then and now, it was my parents’ alma mater. “You’ll love it,” they said. I didn’t love it. I didn’t even like it most of the time. The school…
I generally don’t consider myself a brave person. I used to be braver, but the older I get, the more I become the queen of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. For instance, I’m the mom who comes up with the obscure reference of what happened to so-and-so’s cousin’s nephew “when he did that.” I’ve been making…
I have watched the sunrise from the top of Sarangkot in Nepal, and I’ve scaled Victoria Peak in Hong Kong. I’ve topped Bob’s Peak in Queenstown, New Zealand, and I’ve reached a high point of Machu Picchu. I’ve been as close to the top of Mont Blanc in France as I could get, and I’ve…
I am not an expert on being brave. I don’t have a secret potion, a magic wand, or five easy steps that lead to bravery. However, for the last several years, I have considered myself a student of what being brave looks like—a brave aficionado, a connoisseur of courage. I’ve become a collector of clues…