Author Archives: John Swinburn

My vocabulary is not the most extensive, but I try to learn new words on a regular basis. And I succeed. I do not always succeed in retaining my new-found knowledge, though. I struggled to recall the meaning of “obeisance” … Continue reading →

“What would you wish for if you had but one wish” is impossible to answer correctly. It attempts to force choices where choices don’t belong. Perhaps the only rational answer to the question would be: “I wish I understood everything … Continue reading →

It is reasonable to ponder the conditions under which we expect to be happy, but it behooves us not to allow those thoughts to build a cage that excludes us from happiness in the absences of those conditions. Happiness is adaptive, provided some degree of … Continue reading →

My satisfaction with myself may reside in a journey I have not yet taken. The question is whether the journey will be one of space and distance or time and change; or, perhaps, both. And is satisfaction with oneself a … Continue reading →

Poetry can swing a hammer just as hard as a trained boxer can throw a punch.

I have discovered that wishes and dreams—simple thoughts that go against the grain of socially acceptable ideas—can cause tension headaches. Perhaps it’s not the thoughts that bring on the pain, though; perhaps it’s the contemplation of potential consequences of acting … Continue reading →

Birthdays should be mourned as measures of lost innocence. Each tick of the clock is a reminder of the unraveling of the veil of virtue hiding countless flaws. Sixty-two years ago today, the unraveling began.  

If the armature supporting the skeleton that’s keeping your flesh from falling to the ground begins to melt, settle for the satisfaction of pooling on the pavement. Fighting battles with yourself that you simply can’t win is wasteful use of dwindling … Continue reading →

Emotional wreckage morphs into a shield of immeasurable strength when you exercise control over your own life.

Struggles with oneself pale in comparison to battles with people who want to mold us into someone we were never meant to be. The hardest part of the wars we wage is determining whether we are our best ally our own worst … Continue reading →

Some people seek forgiveness for what they have done; others for who they are. The most dangerous, though, refuse to engage in the search, seeing in it only weakness.

A few days ago, I read about three young homeless drifters who allegedly killed two people in San Francisco. Photos of the suspects, two men and a woman, caused visual memories to spring to mind, images of Charles Manson. If they … Continue reading →

My eyesight bothers me. To see distant images requires me to remove my reading glasses; to see my screen and to read, I need to put them back on. Among many other challenges that fact present is this one, relevant … Continue reading →