Selected writing
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The All-American Narcissist
Holding up a mirror to our true nature
Narcissist. The insult just rolls off the tongue. Whether directed at the self-involved “frenemy,” crazy ex-boyfriend, or social-media show-off, the epithet seems to be the perfect catch-all for the assholes we encounter on a daily basis.
It’s so commonplace one wonders if we’re on the verge of a national reckoning — perhaps a truth and reconciliation for all the narcissists in our lives. But in a country like the U.S., so universally oriented around individual liberty and personal expression, the label can start to feel meaningless.
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How Not to Waste a Good Midlife Crisis
A manifesto for middle-aged creatives
I remember the moment I first felt old. While watching a band that shall remain nameless, I thought the men of a certain age—with their dad bods and hairlines—looked weird playing guitars. Perhaps it was a simple identification—I remember buying their first CD—but the idea persisted. Robert Smith applying lipstick night after night at 60 years old. Bono and The Edge, still without surnames. And Thom Yorke, in his fifties, surely must get sore dancing like that, right?
Then, on the edge of 40, I joined a band.
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FOMO V. YOLO
How to stay present when the future is far from perfect
A patient of mine has been inside for weeks, without so much as taking a daily walk. Like most of us, he’s sheltering in place. Unlike many of us, he seems to be taking it well.
Where some of my patients have relied on creature comforts to avoid the uncertainty and anxiety outside, he has turned to even deeper self-reflection. And free from social obligation, he now has the mental space to dig into what has been a consistent aspect of work together: separating what he wants out of life from what he thinks he should want out of it.
In other words, he’s talking about FOMO.
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What is Left to Desire?
‘Doing’ in the time of disease
I started re-reading the first draft of a new novel two weeks ago. The initial pass was genuinely enjoyable. (This is not always true.) Though it had been years since I had worked on a long-form creative project, everything just seemed to click. And my favorite part of the process—the rewrite—lay ahead.
The only problem is the main character is alone and in extreme quarantine for a significant part of the book.
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The One That Got Away
On mourning a love that just won’t die
We all have one that got away. You might be happily married or decidedly single; it doesn’t matter. Everyone loves a good ghost story, and the mind is a haunted attic. Only, these objects of our imagination don’t always wait till night to make trouble. They torment us at will—in the first notes of an old song, the neon glow of some dive bar, your Facebook feed. These ghosts manifest the spirit of regret.
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Secondhand Victims
Mental illness in a culture of violence
In the aftermath of any mass violence, the desperate impulse to understand why it happened tends to overshadow the grim reality of or any sincere effort to mourn the tragedy. The response to shootings in particular often splits along party lines, creating a false dichotomy of causation between inadequate gun laws and a failing mental health system. The former pokes at an infection that festers when capitalism commodifies personal liberty; the latter exploits an historical scapegoat that dates back centuries.