I get this question a lot, so here’s my honest answer.

(I haven’t done this yet, but plan to. I listened to that Odysssey audiobook in two days of walking around Port Meadow, Oxford, and have been yearning to listen again.)

Imagine you’re a ghost. You drift through the world but nobody sees you. You’re disconnected.

I was dating for the first time, after a six year long relationship.

Sofia was my first big love. We met at 21, when we were both in the circus. She opened me up, and taught me how to be honest. I was absolutely certain that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her.

This is a real question. I don’t know the answer and I’m curious.

I was 36, and had been living in Portland for two years. I saw an amazing house for sale — really amazing — stunning design, ideal location on the edge of the city, and its backyard was the start of a huge state park. I had a visceral reaction.

I’m going for the double meaning of “get me” that also means “understand me”.

According to statistics, I’m in the final third of my life. (I don’t expect to beat the odds, because I inherited a cancer-creating genetic disorder.) So maybe it’s the final quarter.

Because I was raised with no religion, I used to think they were all ridiculous.

My parents never mentioned God or any religion. Not necessarily atheist — nothing against. The subject just never came up.

Dismissing gives me a quick little lift.

Dubai was in my “Top 5 places where I NEVER want to go”. I heard it was commercialized hedonism, glorified overindulgence, pandering to millionaires and influencers — extravagance and opulence. Everything I hate. That’s why I had never gone there.

Tomorrow you have plans to go to an event with a friend. You made the plans a month ago. You ask your friend, “Do you still want to go?”

I used to live in a basement apartment, next to the trash room. Rats were often blocking my door, and I could hear them walking in the ceiling right above me as I slept. I hated them so much that I happily killed as many as I could, with no remorse.

For many years, I was a touring musician, performing live on stage every week. But I didn’t like attending concerts. I liked making music more than listening to music. I felt I must be in the wrong line of work, creating something that I don’t consume. I never reconciled this feeling.

Not a new idea, but just another visualization and reminder.

You know that frustration of reading a book that should have been an article? Me too. So I try to do the opposite — to write so succinctly that you wish I would have said a little more. You complete it with your own thoughts.

I’ve asked my favorite musicians if, when they’re done writing a new song, they feel it’s the best song ever. All of them said yes.

I just got the call from the super-connected Alex Steininger that our mutual friend Ben Kihnel died in his sleep. He was only 48.