I am so proud to be a Canadian.

I, too, was carrying around my own fate. All the things I couldn't know sat somewhere inside, embroidered into me-maybe not quite fixed to the point of inevitability but waiting, in any event, for a chance to unspool.

I'm afraid of elevators, because they are an enclosed space, but I get in.

Contemplating Christmas when you are isolated and far from home brings its own unique pain.

Forgiving is not an easy thing to do.

In my version of paradise, the air was always cold and the rivers ran with candy.

I think that I find a lot of my healing out in the world.