My Top 10 Posts of 2024

Popular. Some posts were just popular.

Dec 30, 2024

I may not have been able to bring you a publication announcement in 2024 (trust me, I’m trying), but I did plenty of public writing.

Today I’ve put together a post featuring the most popular pieces of the year.

Whether you’re new around here, a busy reader who only catches the occasional essay, or simply someone who likes to revisit and reread old favorites, please enjoy collected in one place for your reading pleasure, my top 10 most-read posts from 2024.

Post 10: The Time I Walked Face-First into the Closet

This past spring, I traveled with my friend Roz to sing in a choral performance at the Lincoln Center in NYC.
We had a wonderful time seeing the sights, reveling in the music, savoring good food and drink, and snatching moments for work, social connections, and sightseeing whenever we could.
But here’s the thing about me and Roz. Both of us, while fully smart and competent in our own unique ways, have discovered that when we’re together, we somehow become less than the sum of our parts.
Two heads aren’t always better than one is what I’m saying. Not when the two heads are mine and Roz’s.
It’s like we only have one brain to share between the both of us, and we have to take turns passing the smarts back and forth.
I’m not sure why this had to be.
Why can’t we both be capable of rational thought at the same time?
Maybe God recognized that with our combination of looks and brains, if we could both function at the peak of our powers at the same time, our combined energies would be too powerful.
Who knows.
Either way, one thing’s for sure.
On night four of our trip, I was definitely the one with the empty head.

Post 9: The Time I Sat in the Beans

This past weekend while at an event, I hit the buffet, filled a plate, and then immediately sat in it.
Even I’m not sure quite how it happened.
“This story doesn’t leave the room,” I told those sitting around me, all of whom were watching as my delighted 14-year-old niece swiped napkins over the affected area, trying to help minimize the damage even as she overtly gloried in the absurdity of the moment.
But who was I kidding? They could tell whoever they wanted.
I was probably going to write about it anyway, I told them.
Because that’s what I do. I embarrass myself and then write about it. It’s a rhythm that works for me. And, the way I see it, a way of controlling the narrative.
No one can threaten to spill the beans on you if you preemptively spill them yourself.
And then sit in them, apparently.
On the drive home from the event, my niece and I re-hashed the big moment.
I shook my head. “I can’t believe I sat on that plate of food.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured me. “I already texted a bunch of people.”

Post 8: Everything I Did While Trapped in the House without Power after Hurricane Helene

Last Friday, Hurricane Helene took a left turn and headed north into the mountains.
My home and property survived largely unscathed from the sheer destruction that has devastated some of our friends—particularly our neighbors right across the border in North Carolina.
In that respect, I have nothing to complain about.
I did face my own issues, however, including going without power for six days and spending the first half of that period alone in my dim house under the trees.
And while I struggled with practical matters related to food and water and candles and gas and generators, my biggest battle was the one fought with my own mind.

Post 7: The Turtle of Overcoming

Sometimes you make a typo and it’s embarrassing.
Sometimes it’s accidentally inspiring.
Occasionally it’s both.

Post 6: Sometimes You Have to Lie Down on a Bridge and Cry

This past weekend, I flew to South Florida to run a half marathon in one of my favorite places. The Marathon of the Treasure Coast series follows a fast, mostly flat course with waving palm trees, sea breezes, and gorgeous views.
I cut my running teeth on these streets, and they carry lots of good memories.
And some not-so-good memories.
Such as a few years ago when, in the middle of a race, I lay down on the top of a bridge to cry.

Post 5: The Men on the Internet Have Something to Say

There’s a certain type of man we meet on the internet.
You know the type.
The one who always has something to say.

Post 4: My Top 5 Non-Silly and Totally Reasonable Personal Fears

Deep down, we’re all afraid of the same basic things: death, taxes, and that the going-to-school-with-no-pants-on dream turns out not to be a dream.
I’m definitely afraid of those things.
But I’m also afraid of these.

Post 3: Everything you learn that is wrong about yourself when a 14-year-old stays with you for the summer

Imagine you have a 14-year-old living with you for the summer.
You’re both having a marvelous time, pursuing your own activities during the day (you: work; her: arts, crafts, and reading) and putting together puzzles and watching TV together in the off hours.
There’s only one fly in the ointment.
One little thing that keeps the entire summer from being totally perfect.
YOU.

Post 2: “Hey, Friend!” (cowritten with Kristina Hart)

This happens more often than I’d like.
I’m sipping my coffee, minding my own business, when my phone buzzes. Sometimes it’s an email, sometimes a social media notification. Occasionally, it’s a text. But when I see the greeting, I brace myself. Close my eyes. Take a deep breath.
“Hey, friend…”
As soon as I see that opening, especially when it comes from a woman, I know two things for sure.
First, we’re probably not friends. Not current ones, anyway—not in the way I would define the term.
Second, she wants something.

Post 1: Because We Carry It Well (cowritten with Lacey Keigley)

I wish this didn’t happen as often as it does.
I’m out living my life, doing what needs to be done, when someone says something like this: “Wow. I couldn’t do all that” or “I don’t know how you do it” or “I couldn’t handle it the way you do.”
And I’m never quite sure how to respond.
Because, honestly, who knows. Maybe you could. Maybe you couldn’t. But for whatever reason, you don’t have to. This isn’t your life. But it is mine, so I don’t have a choice. I have to carry the weight.
How do you do it all?
I could never do that.
I couldn’t live your life.
Yeah, I’m fairly confident that statement or that question is intended as a compliment of sorts.
And yet.
It never quite feels like one.
“You’re braver than me.”
No. I am not.
My choices are different, maybe. Because they have to be.
“I could never do that alone.”
Maybe you could. Maybe you couldn’t. But you haven’t had to find out. Me, though? I have no choice. It’s either do it alone, or it doesn’t happen.
“I don’t know how you do it all.”
Well, I don’t either. All I know is that one way or another, it has to get done.
But just because I carry it well doesn’t mean I’m not tired.

And Another Thing

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