The Best Advice So Far - unplug (wall socket extension with too many wires plugged in)

unplug (kindly)

Let me say up front that this post may not be for you. Who is it for then? Well, it’s for people like me: who love people and whose natural tendency is to talk with and listen to others who tend to have high interpersonal output most of the time who sometimes find themselves running on fumes who need ways to unplug without resorting to becoming a recluse If this sounds like you, read on. There’s a funny thing about me. (Well, there’s a list, but I’ll tell you about one of them.) It’s…

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The Best Advice So Far - peepers - woodland wetlands in moonlight


Snow fell well into spring this year. So whenever a day’s temperate now peaks 50°, there’s a palpable buzz in the air that feels more like summer. As far as the eye can see, sidewalks teem with bikers and joggers, dog walkers and pullers of little red wagons. By the time essential work wound down this past Friday, I found myself facing a laundry list of domestic tasks that “needed” my attention, not the least of which was, in fact, laundry. But heeding my own advice to prioritize time for…

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The Best Advice So Far - dwelling - dilapidated bedroom in what appears to have been an old, wealthy home


The phone rang at 9:52 this morning. Unknown number. I didn’t pick up. At 9:53, a voice message appeared. I listened. It was “Fabiola from the District Court victim advocacy office,” informing me that the case against the woman who stole my wallet and fraudulently used my debit card last summer was being heard today. It was a short message, which ended by asking me to return the call if there was anything I wanted to add to the case before it went before the judge. At 9:55, I called back. No…

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The Best Advice So Far - bathwater - dirty brownish water


“You always have a choice.” I’ve spoken or written this central message of The Best Advice So Far literally thousands of times by now. And yet, I still feel and see the power in it as much as I ever have—the power to transform the way we view and live life. In the first chapter of the book, I introduce you to Chad. You can read his full story there in the book (or HERE, right now and for FREE, if you like); but I trust you’ll get the gist from this snippet, even without the full context: You…

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The Best Advice So Far - choice: the wall - dilapidated building inland Bahamas

choice: the wall

In my last post, I invited you to celebrate with me the successful completion of a yearlong writing goal I’d set for myself in 2017. Since that post, I’ve allowed myself a break from all things blog. It was strategic. I knew that if I were to just continue on writing at the previously set “goal pace,” I would have felt locked into it rather than having been able, as I did, to have closure on that goal—and to then begin a new one. Well, today is the day I begin that new goal where this blog is…

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The Best Advice So Far - huzzah


I use the interjection “Yay!” a fair amount, though mostly in text messages. Then there’s “Hooray!” which I say as well as write. But far and away, my favorite exclamation is this one: HUZZAH! It just … sounds right (pronounced huh-ZAH, with the accent on the second syllable). It looks right. What’s more, it feels right, what with that buzzing double ‘zz’ and all. It’s the kind of utterance that stirs speaker and listener alike, all but demanding a rousing stir of fist. Aw, go on — say it.…

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The Best Advice So Far - candy canes

candy canes

I finally got my tree this week. The front lot at Hanson’s Farm up the road glistened with new-fallen snow. They had fewer than a dozen trees left, having started with nearly two hundred just three weeks ago. This actually worked in my favor, given my longstanding tradition of choosing the Charlie-Browniest tree I can find — the one least likely to be picked due to some flaw or other. Some I had to rule out on account of their being too tall or too fat to fit in the space, nestled between a…

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The Best Advice So Far - losing track of why

losing track of why

Saturday afternoon, I cheated. Well, OK. What I mean is that I cheated on my self-imposed low-carb diet and got a ham, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich at a local joint. With bread. English muffin, to be exact. It was snowing like gangbusters, and my feet were wet and cold. So sue me if I wanted something warm and salty — and crunchy. I definitely craved the crunch. I know. I was weak. You may sneer and/or jeer at will. I’d placed my order (which included a hot decaf peppermint-mocha with…

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