This Is Not A Mug.
This is not a coffee mug. I’m guessing neither are some of yours. Following September 11, 2001 it’s fair to say I was repressing feelings about the loss of a friend in the attacks. At some point months later, I was seated at the desk of my home-office speaking with my wife at the time when I began to sob. I just erupted. I cannot recall the exact trigger but it did not make sense in that moment. Emotions. At that time there were not only negative feelings many of us kept throttled down. There were also strong positive waves of energy, music, cooperation and camaraderie between friends and strangers, and they were beginning to layer on top of those deep dark internal fault lines. Life plans, career paths and personal goals changed, en masse, partly in response to the beginning of an anemic post-crash economic recovery but also out of necessity. It was a time of great self-reflection. Which was healthy. Because there was a clear indication that war was at hand for our country. The range