Why I No Longer Say “My Truth”

The truth shall set you free.

People use the phrase conversely, both to scold and to praise. What if we shift the words a bit?

My truth will set me free.

I confess, just typing that set my insides twisting into knots. Heck, typing this post sets my teeth a bit on edge. I’m afraid of the potential backlash. But I’m writing anyway.

The second group of words grates for me, because no one can own the truth. Not you, the one reading this on a shining screen, and not me. Google my truth or what started the phrase my truth before you go further. The search results baffle.

This is not to say we do not have different perceptions of reality. Take a look at the image above, though. In fact, a fellow blogger said it best. “Reality is an aspect of perception. It is distinguished from the truth.”
I’d take it one step further. Reality and truth intertwine, weaving in and out of each other like flowering vines on a trellis. Reality is the vine, shiftin g, changing with the winds, sprouting new tendrils with every new interpretation. Truth is the trellis. It stands, holding shape, regardless of our perceptions of reality. We certainly own our perceptions.

We do not own truth. We can’t.

Perhaps, though, this is a natural out-growth of how we speak. We use the terms subjective truth and objective truth to attempt to separate anecdote and experience from scientific methods and consensus. Is such a separation truly possible, though? And when did society find the need to exchange the words experience and fact for the euphemisms of subjective truth and objective truth?

Yes, these phrases are euphemisms. The rational, secular culture in which we live wields logic as a weapon, shaming those who see the possibility of a single, universal truth, applicable to everyone. Such a concept, the logic says, cannot exist when human experiences remain as diverse and infinite as they have through out history. So what’s left but to shame those who believe such an irrational concept?

Remember, if you’ve seen Now You See Me, these opening lines. “Come in close. Now closer. For the closer you think you are, the less you’ll actually see.” For those who haven’t seen the movie, first go see it. Second, the movie follows a FBI agent and an Interpol detective in their attempts to take four stage magicians to justice for robbing banks during their shows and giving the proceeds to the audience. I won’t spoil the movie. Suffice it to say, the law agents never looked far enough away to catch the tricks.

I see similar patterns in our rational, scientific culture. Many claim that by scrutinizing all things as closely as possible, we may in time divine the over-arching, universal truth. If, says this culture, such a thing truly exists.

Yet science looks too closely. They find pieces of this truth, and hold it up as the truth. The soft sciences do this quite a bit. Find a thing. Draw conclusions based on perceptions of that thing. Claim this perception as truth.

‘shakes head’

Universal truth cannot be dissected like a frog on an eighth grader’s science lab table. That dissection shows us the pieces that exist inside the frog. In the end, we learn nothing about the habitat of that specific frog, or how its species lives, functions, and moves in the environment. We pour salt on the muscles and see them twitch. Hardly the same as chasing down frogs by the side of the lake and experiencing for yourself just how fast the little blighters can be.

You have your experience of reality. I have mine. Neither of these is the truth. Both of them contain pieces of the truth. In the coming days and weeks, I intend to discuss what bits of truth I’ve come to understand through my lived experience.

In the end, only by coming together to discuss, openly, respectfully, with frank precision can we come closer to understanding the universal truth surrounding us all.

Perfect? Not A Chance

Perfect. You’ve heard the word, probably even applied it to your own life. The perfect house, the perfect car, the perfect spouse. But what does PERFECT really mean?

I have no answer.

Sure, I could hunt down a dictionary and type that in as the answer. Yet what’s the point of that? Perfect remains a concept.

An idea.


So if we can’t have the ideal, why bother trying at all? Because we can learn to thrive in the imperfect. It’s not easy in a world so caught up in Perfect, but it can happen. We can make it happen. Take this YouTube video I just made.

I have a decent-ish webcam, and software that cuts out most white noise when I use the right microphone. Except I’m pretty sure I used the wrong mic.

If I’m honest, I could point to a million different things “wrong with” this video. But what’s the point of that? It’s published for all of you to critique and criticize if you like. The fact is, I did one thing very, very right.

I hit Publish anyway.

Yeah, it’s terrifying. Yeah, my video isn’t perfect. It is, however, proof. Proof that I accomplished something. Proof that I completed a goal, albeit a frightening one. Proof that no matter how scared of imperfection I am and have been, I can still finish a thing.

That’s right. I can finish a thing. Now, it’s time to finish more things. Also, we’ll be cutting back to 3 days a week so I can stop having a panic attack at the idea of five posts. Now go out there, and claim your place in our beautiful, imperfect world.

Dr. Strange’s Keyhole: Opening The Doors Of Perception

Freedom IS a constant struggle not against the external but against the INTERNAL. I can’t recall the correct attribution, since I ran across the quote in some link-rabbit hole surf day. Even so, the idea resonates with me, especially as one just beginning to practice Stoic philosophy.

After all, one of the big keys of Stoicism I’ve found so far is the idea that it is impossible to free ourselves from our circumstances. However, we CAN free ourselves from the influence of those circumstances.

We do this by freeing ourselves internally. By disallowing ourselves to get sucked into just how terrible others might believe our circumstances are. See, more than we like to admit, life cuffs us upside the head, body slams us into a wall, and laughs in our face. Or in my case kicks you in the teeth as your down, and keeps laughing anyway.

Does it ever stop?

No, not completely.

Reminds me of a movie. Mild Dr. Strange spoilers ahead.

Dr. Stephen Strange, best and brightest surgeon of his age. Until all hell broke loose, and his life got upended. Guess what? He allowed himself to crumble into an obsession.

He needed a cure.

Out of money, out of options, he wandered into a foreign country seeking a cure.

Enter the Ancient One.

In their meeting, he’s shown in a quite powerful way just how limiting his beliefs have been in his search for healing. If you want to see how, go watch the movie.

That scene illustrates just how much BELIEF can show us. Such belief takes many forms. Polytheism, monotheism, Christianity, paganism, Islam, Judaism, non-religious philosophies such as Stoicism or Buddhism. I don’t have the space to list them all.

Beliefs vary as much as the individuals who hold them.

In the scene I’m referring to, the Ancient One explains that Strange is like a man looking through a keyhole, trying to understand what’s on the other side. I’d argue that makes him just like the rest of us. We’ve all got our version of…

Dr. Strange’s Keyhole

Back in the day, 1800s or so, when skeleton keys were all the rage, you could see through a keyhole. You may not see much though. Perhaps a blur of color here or there. A hint of shape. The whisper of reality beyond the door.

Once you open the door, you can actually see what’s going on.
Despite our external circumstances, our inner physical and mental realities are a lot like that glimpse through the keyhole. We think we know what we’re looking at. We’re certain we understand what’s happening!

I don’t know about you, but I keep learning enough to show me that I don’t. Not really. Reality and my perception of reality often disagree. Vehemently.

It’s like the old tale of the three blind men and the elephant. One claimed the elephant was like a tree. Another spoke of how like a serpent it was. The third man spoke of its hairy hide. They all had pieces, the leg, the trunk, and the end of the tail. All were right…and not.

So I can stare at that door all I want, but until I turn the key and open it…Well, I won’t have a clue.

Opening The Door

First, it helps to understand all your mental doors are made the same stuff. Perceptions. Opening the door means challenging that perception.

That’s the scary part.

The master key to these doors is curiosity. Curiosity about yourself and the world you live and move in.
Trouble comes when the key rusts, because we decide the answer we have is already enough. To polish the key, we choose to learn more, even when it hurts. Or the door itself is rusted shut.

My question to you: are you willing to polish that key? Open those doors? Accept what’s behind them?

I promise, your pride may take a beating, but it’s worth it. Last time my key turned up rusted, I believed that doctors would know what to do to help my pain levels and daily chronic migraines.

No luck. Instead, I’ve done my own research, and spent the last several months, with more ahead, testing a variety of other methods to gain relief. Some work, some were discarded.

All have been lessons.

I don’t know just how many doors exist in my mind. I do a little every day to keep the master key polished. I want to see more than just the piece of the room behind the keyhole.

What about you? What perception door have you been staring down, afraid to open? Tell me about it in the comments.

And go on. Turn that key. Set yourself free.

How Do You Know? Ancient Man and the Trash Pile

Today’s stream of consciousness: what can we learn about someone by digging through their midden pit—a.k.a trash pile? I’d guess less than half the story. Spoke this morning to someone at my usual café, and the topic of ancient peoples came up.

He mentioned the difference between us today—Modern Man—and our predecessors. You know, before things like art and abstract thought, right? And I got to thinking…

Do we really know as much as we think we do about our predecessors? How many papers and articles have you read that imply in polite, flowery terms that Ancient Man was kind of a moron?

Sure, they knew enough to hunt. They knew what would poison them and what wouldn’t. But ART? Nah, they didn’t make ART. They didn’t understand the value of abstraction, because they couldn’t.

Perhaps they did understand abstract thought, and simply had no time to indulge. Hunting and gathering and ensuring survival for the clan or tribe likely took precedence over creating a Sistine Chapel.


I know, I know. I’m not a scientist, I’m a writer. I build worlds on the basics of what I know. I create societies and cultures and insulting gestures and characters. I don’t dig through 15,000 year old trash piles and try to piece together the inner minds and workings of entire societies from that.

The process of creating a world got me wondering why we do. Science has wonderful applications, don’t get me wrong. Modern sanitation, indoor plumbing, vaccines, and all manner of marvelous creations have come to us because of science.

We also got the ALIENS meme guy…

Yes, more…astute?…scientists reject his conclusions out of hand. After all, building the pyramids was the feat of slave labor and pharaohs, right? Or was it the feat of humans who desired to build something incredible and found a way to do it.

Again, how do we KNOW?

Partial Conclusions

From the Pharaohs we have the hieroglyphs and the Rosetta Stone. From Greece we have the plays that survived the ages. From our truly ancient ancestors, we have building foundations and crumbled pottery, if that.

Even the leaps of modern science are, in many ways, partial conclusions. We can observe a lot more than we used to. Electron microscopes and the Hubble telescope. Space probes. What do they teach us? 90% of the lesson is that we don’t know everything. Not even close. In a century or two, we will be subject to the same scorn we give pre-Civil War physicians for not cleaning their instruments between surgeries and Regency mothers for believing that lancing their teething baby’s gums was a good idea.

Even the hard sciences are an ever evolving set of partial conclusions based on exceedingly narrow questions. So how can we believe we truly know as much as we think we know about ancient peoples?

What if the people of the Stone Age actually had metal, but it was so rare and precious that they turned it into exceedingly high quality tools. And when one of them owned a tool like that, they kept careful care of it. They used it for its intended purpose, and ensured that when it finally wore out, they’d have gotten an entire lifetime of use out of it.

I doubt a tool like that would be left in a refuse pile. The most we would find would be fragments of the broken wooden handle.

What do you think? Were ancient peoples truly so much less intelligent than we are? Or did they apply their intelligence differently? Drop your thoughts in the comment section below, or shoot me a comment on Facebook!

You ARE A Millennial, And Here’s Why

Are you a Millennial? I planned to start this by saying I survived Y2K, so I’m a Millennial, but let’s be real.
If you’re reading this, you’re a Millennial.

Please don’t click the corner X just yet. You and I live and breath after the year 2000. I don’t care what year you were born. That makes you a Millennial.

Just think about it a second.

We’re all walking around, living our lives, struggling from day to day, hoping to some how, some way, some day create something better than we had before, right? Whether you were born in 1918 or 1980, most people I’ve met want better tomorrow than yesterday handed to them. Especially if yesterday was stinkin’ miserable. And we’re doing it in years labeled 20**. 🙂

So, despite unnumbered rants to the contrary, I say we’re all Millennials.

Also if you were born in 1918 or anywhere around WWI or WWII or the Civil Rights Movement and are reading this, drop me a shout out in the comments. You’re way more experienced than I am, and I’d love to hear your stories.

Where was I? Oh yes. Millennial. That word. We throw it around like we throw around Baby Boomer or Generation X or the Greatest Generation. Can I…trust you with a secret?

Okay, here goes.

Government forms need handy separation markers, and people aren’t conveniently boxed.

‘holds up hands in surrender’ I know, I know! It’s weird. I mean, of course we can define other people! It’s so easy to define ourselves after all. At least, that’s what the U.S. Census Bureau would like to think. And the-nope. Stopping that train before it derails over a cliff. 😛

So what IS a Millennial? If you trust my 6 am brain, a Millennial is someone living during this new Millennium.

Yes. That’s it.

Which means YOU are a Millennial. You may be a Baby Boomer Millennial, or a Gen X Millennial, or a Gen Y Millennial (me), or a Millennial Millennial (my little sister). Whichever you are, you are a Millennial.

If, like I did, you’re now asking yourself about the generation gap and the differences in society and how everything is so different from what it was, my answer is…Yes and no.

Yes, people of different ages have differences. Differences in ideology, political thinking, political influence, specific ideas about such things as gender and race, differences in health…and a great deal many others.

But so do people of the SAME AGE. Just because a certain set of ideas is more common among a given age group doesn’t mean the generation gap exists. It could just as easily mean they grew up in similar environmental circumstances. It doesn’t mean that generation is better or worse, or even that they knew or know more or less than a previous or next generation.

All it means is we’re groups full of individual people.

Heck, if I used -ism and -ist terms, I’d be tempted to call this perpetuation of the generation gap concept ageism at its finest. Lumping massive groups of people of varying ability, economic, political, cultural, geographical, racial, national, experiential, gender, and sexual backgrounds together because of birth date, and then listing all the statistics about PIECES of those groups that make us have a reason to reject the whole?

Why don’t we stop looking at statistics for five minutes, and learn about the people right next to us? Sure, it’s a lot riskier, emotionally. It’s also a bigger reward when it turns out right.

See, I tend to agree with Core Elves. What matters most is that I respect you as an individual. Your character and what you, unique, wonderful person that you are, bring to the table. Statistics can’t tell me that.

So what will you do next time someone calls you a Millennial? A Baby Boomer? A Gen-Xer? When they dismiss your ideas because you’re from a different time and place? Will you rant and rage and troll their page? Or might this time be the one you take the approach of peace? Ask about their experiences? Learn where they come from? Find common ground and go from there?

Phantoms of History: Mercy Otis Warren and The Minority of One

Ever heard the name Mercy Otis Warren? No, I thought not. She penned the first history of the American Revolutionary War—as it happened, and with heavy correspondence from many of the men involved. Men like Sam Adams, John Hancock, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, Alexander Hamilton and other early leaders.

All names you HAVE heard, I’m sure.

Frankly, I’m surprised we don’t hear more of her in our history classes in school. I found her name in a short article on a website called Learn Liberty.

Mercy’s History of the Rise, Progress, and Termination of the American Revolution took thirty years to reach publication, from 1775 to 1805. It spans the whole of the Revolution, by a woman who lived it, and you can still buy copies of it. Isn’t this a wonderful nation?

Mrs. Warren is one of history’s Phantoms. The individual lost in the muddle of great works and cultural viewpoints. We forget more than we remember, after all. It’s how the mind works.

A Phantom of History

History rises from the deep.

Our lady historian Mercy Otis Warren is only one of a number of individuals that likely changed the course of the Revolution and the events following, even without our remembering of her name in our recitation of facts about the Founders in school. Some of them we find digging through the muck of new historical texts updated yearly for university courses. Some we’ve forgotten entirely.

Often we forget we are likely the next generation’s historical Phantoms. Who is Kim Kardashian’s greatest inspiration? Name the childhood best friend of any current major politician.

You know what? Pop quiz! Three questions. I’m not grading you. Feel free to use Google.

Name a politician whose name doesn’t rhyme with lump or linton.

Name the House Representatives of one neighboring state.

Name a philosopher or scientist who’s won the Nobel Prize in the last five years.

How many did you have to Google?

Okay, before you go having an anxiety attack about being ill-informed and drown yourself in evening news, C-SPAN, and gallon tubs of [your flavor of choice] ice cream, that’s not why I did this.

If you can’t remember them now, because you’re busy living, why would our nation’s kids or grandkids or great-grandkids remember them either?

Yet these people, in some small way, have shaped and changed the course of human history and events. Why? Because of the choices they made. Yes, changing history is that simple. You can’t rewrite history, because we’re ALWAYS writing history.

History in the making? It’s called current events. And right now, it’s a mess. Which is, basically, business as usual.

You: The Smallest Minority

Even among groups of like minds, there’s only one you.

War, revolution, racism, genocide, poverty, exploitation. One word encompasses them all. Tragedy. Much as I’d love to believe that some benevolent body of law-makers could solve all these problems, I’m not convinced we’re any wiser than our ancestors in that regard. To a government, we’re all invisible.

It’s why our Founders fought so hard to keep the governing body from interfering in individual choice. They understood the great paradox of choice. It’s easier for us to let others make our choices, yet when we claim the freedom to make them for ourselves, we have the power to shape the course of the world itself.

After all, how can we possibly have the power to change anything when we can’t choose the direction to set our feet?

This is why the current activist struggles all over the news don’t call to me. Each of them in some way miss the smallest minority of all.


The individual.

Perhaps you want a simple life. A job. A roof over you. Transportation.

You don’t want to change the world.

That’s okay.

Perhaps you do. You want to be the next Kim Kardashian. You want to be the Bill Gates of robotics. Perhaps you want to be the J. R. R. Tolkien of the twenty-first century.

Of those three, I’d like to be known as the third, but that’s just me.

The point is, we don’t know how we change history. Mercy probably didn’t know when she wrote her history book that President Thomas Jefferson would buy a copy for every member of his Cabinet and make them read it. She fought with the power of her choice and her conscience in her pamphelet, the Columbian Patriot, that the Constitution was incomplete without a Bill of Rights.

Can anyone say how much influence this woman had in the course of the Founding Documents of the United States of America? Probably not. Let’s not forget her, or any other Phantoms of History. And if you know of any, drop their names in the comments. I plan to feature more of our history’s Phantoms on Mondays.

Belief, Instinct, Social Norms, And The Mess Of Personal Psychology

Go with your gut. Trust your instincts. Both wonderful lessons. Often, though, I believe we confuse belief or cultural understanding with instinct. Don’t believe me?

Name five differences between men and women off the top of your head. Feel free to write them down.
Now…how many of them involve learned behavior? 😉 I bet you won’t be able to figure it out, and that’s okay. None of us know everything. Most of us know, in fact, very little.

What I do know, from a good deal of study and personal experience, is that so often what we call instinct is actually—to use a term I generally dislike—social programming. And no, it doesn’t matter what society you come from or choose to embrace, you have social programming so deeply ingrained we act as though it is instinct and never stop to think if it truly is.

So what’s the difference?

Instinct is basically an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli. At least if you Google the definition.

Instinctive belief is a pattern of behavior, usually reactionary, built around a subconscious belief.

As an example, for many years, I believed if people didn’t talk to me, they hated me or I had done something wrong. I didn’t see these beliefs initially, but they shaped my behavior. I spent my life trying to be all things to all people, just so no one would hate me and I wouldn’t do anything wrong.

I ran by what I perceived to be instinct.

Except it was hijacked instinct, the need to survive bent to a specific set of reactions by long exposure to less than ideal circumstances. Fortunately, I have a mind, and the ability to keep from acting on such beliefs, or to change them entirely.

The trick is to find them.

I’ve found two routes. One typically involves a therapist and cognitive behavioral therapy.

The other, and far less expensive, is the study of the ancient philosophy of Stoicism. I’ve written about this philosophy in the past, and I’ll write more as the mood strikes me. Suffice it to say, this was the founding philosophy of cognitive behavioral therapy in most of its forms.focus for both is not to study so much the specific causes of behavior in the psychoanalytic sense, but to find those thoughts that aren’t useful to us and replace them with thoughts that are useful. Let’s go back to my example a moment.

My core belief driving the other two: If people don’t talk to me, they think I’m bad.

Not a fun way to live, and I anxiety inducing to a mad degree. So, once I discovered that belief, I replaced it. The mind dislikes empty spaces, so a void must be filled. Better to be filled by a conscious choice than random chance.

Replacement belief: If a person doesn’t talk to me, their reason matters not to me.

Yes, that one was a good deal tougher to ingrain in myself. The old belief still raises its head now and then. Such is the way with rewiring the mind. It takes time, patience, and effort. Essentially a good deal of will.

No, I’m not saying willpower fixes everything. However, it can help change a core belief. The key is to find the belief first. So this week, beliefs, instincts, and social norms are the focus of my blog. If you’re looking forward to it, raise your hand! Or, you know, comment because I can’t actually see you raising your hand. 😀

Strategic Retreat, Paradigm Shift, and Reorganizing the Blogging Plan

Ever have an experience that forces you into a radical paradigm shift? You know, the type where you reckoned you had everything figured out, and you knew what worked, and then…

Life hit you on the way out the door?

As of five days ago, this blog launched with my post, Why Not To Wear Only A Bathrobe In Public. In that year, I’ve kept up the blog, turned it into a website, moved my first novel from the idea stage to the publication in less than a year stage, and started a webcomic. And then January 28th came along, and I moved to the great Internet Sahara.

Okay, not really the Internet Sahara. My father-in-law uses his mobile phone as an internet hotspot. No Wi-Fi in the house.

Want to know the weirdest part?

Once I got over withdrawal, I’m LOVING IT! Except the whole writer/comic author/blogger thing.

Because, you know, tough to be an author without home internet nowadays.

Or is it?

The Paradigm Shift

When I started this post, I still had internet access on my phone. However screen outage has taken any of its use to me. Also, our wonderful 1997 Buick, after driving from Utah to California heavily weighed down with all our earthly possessions, gave up the ghost after barely another fifty miles.

In other words, time for me to take a look at how I do things, and find a different path.

Plus, my previous blogging method was about the most disorganized, unsustainable, illogical, and frankly distracted ADHD “process” a blogger could possibly use. I mean really, find a topic and write a post, whether it fits a category or not?

That’s barely a tactic, and certainly not pursuing a worthy ideal.

Since I’m not the type to dust off my hands and give up, it’s time to go back to the drawing board. Crunch some numbers. Scrap what doesn’t work, sure, and then make something that does.

Find Your Tools


Lessons come in strange places. Dad took my husband and I to see the movie Hidden Figures. Beautiful movie. If you are a person with a strong desire to see something in society change, go see it.

Learn how these women changed history, and follow their example. Be the first.

That movie held another lesson, as well. Katherine Goble, one of the computers, spent her days double-checking the math for John Glenn’s manned orbit.

Problem was, the engineers were using modern, visual math. Getting him down from orbit with the math they had would kill Mr. Glenn. Miss Goble, later Mrs. Johnson, saw this.

And she remembered the Oiler’s Method. Old math with no pictures. Just numbers. It worked!

Well, blogging is a new method of writng. Get online everyday and scatter your thoughts to the digital wind. Sometimes that wind happens to be a tornado that bloggers like me get caught up in trying to keep track of my own work. I get stuck on the pictures and not the numbers.

With no internet, though, I had to figure out a different plan. Time to stop looking at picture math and go back to the numbers.

What happens when a database and a word processor have a baby? It’s called Scrivener. I’ve mentioned it a few times, and long ago when I first began my blog adventure, I started a project in the program for my blog, and…

I never used it.
That’s right.

I. Never. Used. What was right at my finger tips.

Have you ever done that? Ignored an incredible tool right in front of you because the “new, improved” shiny of the day seemed better?

But where does that leave the internet, you ask? Don’t I still need internet access?

Well, yes. However, most places will let you use theirs after you buy a drink. 😛

The Plan Moving Forward

As a database/word processing hybrid, Scrivener has the capability to give me a birds’ eye view of my blog and my direction with the blog. Thus, I spent probably two hours coming up with a brand new template that will let me keep track of that view.

Second, I’m actually going to be sticking to a schedule, and the days will be more predictable for you. Each weekday stays within a category. Tough to do when all you’ve got staring at you is a WordPress dashboard. Easy when you’ve got a color-coded blog dashboard that won’t let you forget.

Monday: Break The Path — Imagine a path through uncharted jungle. My life is much like this in ways, as is my writing. As such, I’ll go more in depth into these inner adventures. Some of the old Questioning Narratives will still appear, just far less often, and more writing related.

Tuesday: Success — I have plenty of “reasons” to fail. I’d rather discuss the effort I put into learning to succeed.

Wednesdays: Behind The Scenes — How do I build worlds? Why is there so much science in my fantasy? Why IS Cass’s hair purple? Such questions and many others answered on Wednesdays.

Thursdays: Mental & Physical Health — Art. Often we draw strong associations with addiciton, depression, and personal darkness. I’ve had my share, and I’m done living there. Welcome to my journey to Light.

Physical Health Fridays: Exercise, Gardening, Recipes — Keeping my physical health on task is a huge part of keeping my mental health in check. Fridays, we’ll focus on the best strategies I’ve found to do that. 😀

Saturdays: Dragon Hoard Books — Yes, my new joint project with illustrator Shay Nemrow will continue. We wouldn’t want to dissapoint, and leave you without our comics! As a note, some help on Patreon wouldn’t go amiss. 😀

So, have you ever had a moment in life where you got smacked with something absolutely out of control? Ever wanted things to be different but had to adapt anyway? How did you handle it? What did you do to cope? Share with me in the comments! I’d love to hear from you. (Remember, I can only respond about once a week.)