Gary Chapman, author of “The 5 Love Languages,” believes there are five different ways to express and experience love; words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. Chapman argues that, emotionally, people need to receive love, and that by identifying and understanding our primary love language, we’re able to help each other feel deeply loved, and wholly appreciated.
When I was young, I built forts in our living room using our dining chairs and bed sheets. But these weren’t your typical couch-cushion shanties. If MTV “Forts” was a thing, I have zero doubt the network would’ve featured my hand-crafted oasis for their pilot episode.
I have three homes; my dad’s, my mom’s, and my own. My mom’s home, conveniently located a mere 2.8 miles from my dad’s, is my childhood dwelling. It is in that three-bedroom ranch that I built forts from dining room chairs, lost teeth, acquired a taste for vegetables, and brought to light the Santa Claus Conspiracy.
The five-years question. It’s the staple for every job interview I’ve ever entertained. Where do you see yourself? While I understand the suit on the other side of the table is looking for some kind of reassurance that their candidate has goals, a plan, and their shit together, it stirs me. I’m terrible with this “Q,” mostly because what I desire in that chunk of time is merely abstract.
I used to equate running with the same horror as voluntarily hacking off a limb with a blunt, rusted saw. If you’d asked me to choose between a casual afternoon jog, or a root canal sans anesthesia, I might’ve actually preferred the root canal.
If you’ve ever felt an ounce of sadness, or stress, or fear, write about it. Tear the cap off a pen, and spill some ink knowing with each motion of your hand, you’re one step closer to mending your wounds. Words are my most favorite tools. Strung correctly, their punch is unbelievably powerful. They bite, cut, soothe, heal. They are the Neosporin for my boo-boos.