At the beginning of January 2003, our family was stuck in Ohio.  We hadn't been able to sell our house in Bowling Green.  We hadn't been able to raise all of our funding, for our church-planting venture in the Netherlands.  And because of these factors, and the vague and uncertain timelines associated with them, we hadn't been able to make any definitive plans for our final leap across the Atlantic Ocean.  We were stuck in a holding pattern.

But then in one 24-hour period in the middle part of that month, everything came together.

One morning, I was eating breakfast when the telephone rang; it turned out to be a couple that I had just talked to a week previously about financial support for the "Amsterdam Project."  They said that they had talked about it and wanted to pledge their support.  I eagerly wrote down all of the relevant information and thanked them for their call.  It was very rare for someone to initiate contact when it came to financial support (more typically, it requires a follow-up phone call on my end) -- so their boost in support was especially encouraging.  An hour later, another individual called with the same situation:  another new pledge, without any follow-up work on my part, putting us just $100/month away from the "magic number" that we needed to reach before our missionary funding would be complete.  Of all the thousands of fund-raising contacts I'd had throughout the years, I could count on one hand the number of times that someone had called me back unsolicited, taking the initiative to become a part of our ministry team; and two of them had happened within an hour of each other!  Later that afternoon, I received two more pledges in the total amount of... you guessed it:  $100/month.  And suddenly, our funding was complete.

In between phone calls with ministry donors, we also got a call from our realtor in Bowling Green.  She said that the potential buyer for our house had finally accepted our counter-offer, and they were ready to sign papers the following morning.  Almost exactly 24 hours from when the wheels of progress had first been set in motion by that breakfast-time telephone call, we talked out of the bank with our house sold -- and suddenly, we were free to make our travel arrangements.

Right then and there, in the parking lot of the bank, we called our travel agent and told her to go ahead and book our tickets to Amsterdam, completing our improbable transition from "stuck in a holding pattern in Ohio" to "frantically preparing for the final push to the Netherlands."  Just a little over a week following our Day of Destiny, we were on an airplane flying to our new home in the Netherlands.  And on the 30th of January 2003 -- exactly eight years ago, today -- we landed in Amsterdam.  At the time, I never would have thought that this place could actually feel like home to me; but believe it or not, as of this coming summer (Lord willing) I will have lived in Amsterdam longer than I’ve ever lived in any other place on Earth!

I took a moment yesterday morning to step inside the chapel at the Onze Lieve Vrouwe Gastenhuis (Our Dear Lady Hospital) -- and as always, I had to ask myself:  Why don't I come here more often?

It's so close to my house... It's open pretty much all the time... It costs me nothing to use... I almost always end up having the place to myself... And the space exudes such a sense of peace and quiet.  Even though I've never been Catholic, and my theology does not ascribe any extra holiness to a particular geographic location, I really do experience the Onze Lieve Vrouwe Kapel to be a remarkably worshipful space.

It's not the classic kind of chapel or "church space" that you'd expect from Europe (probably because the chapel was only constructed in 2000).  But maybe this is part of its charm, too.  It's not "Old World Spirituality," but neither is it "New World Spirituality" with all its pragmatism and business-professional furnishings.  The Onze Lieve Vrouwe Kapel is clean and calm.  It's a place to connect with God.

Conservativism and Liberalism are such generic terms that you can shape them to mean just about anything that you want.  Still, I was recently considering...

With most social institutions, the tendency is for those with "conservative" viewpoints to be the bastions of "the old ways or original ways of doing things" -- and if any group comes along with more "liberal" or "progressive" viewpoints, they ultimately tend to form some kind of break-away group.  Eventually, that break-away group may become the more dominant group, thus setting itself up for a repeat of the process when even more "progressive" groups break away from the institution that has become too steeped in its own hegemony.  But this is the typical patterns with social institutions, is it not?  At least this seems to be the case with most businesses, governments, political parties, families, academic groups, and most other sorts of institutions.

But with Christian churches, for whatever reason, this process often seems to be the opposite.  Ever since the Protestant Reformation, the break-away groups have typically been those with "conservative" viewpoints, trying to escape what they see as the pollution, corruption, or "liberalization" of the institution.  I'm guessing that most of the denominational splits over the past 500 years have involved a group of "conservatives" parting ways with the institution who had allegedly forgotten "the old ways or original ways of doing things."

I don't know if this distinction is necessarily good or bad.  But it is unusual.  Why do you think the lines of "conservative" and "liberal" tend to be drawn so differently in Christian churches?

I've long been a lover of story-telling.  I think I really got into it when I was in the 7th grade -- about 13 years old -- in Mrs. Ream's English class.  Back then, it was stupid stories about action heroes who battled and belittled a popular boy-band of the era (the New Kids on the Block).  But it was a start.

In college, I majoried in Communications and minored in Creative Writing.  And even when I wasn't studying, I really enjoyed videography as an avenue for story-telling (the Roving Paramedics being the prime example of this phenomenon).  Story-telling just seemed to be in my genetic make-up.

But then I went into full-time Christian ministry.

In the late 1990s, when this career transition happened for me, I felt like all Christians (and especially Christian workers) were categorically disinclined towards reading (or writing) fiction.  It was seen to be a waste of time.  The books that most Christians seemed to like reading were case studies in apologetics, like Lee Strobel's "Case for Christ" or "Case for Faith"... Or they were books about self-discovery, like Rick Warren's "Purpose-Driven Life" or John Eldridge's "Wild at Heart."  To a smaller degree, some Christians were into sociological- or anthropological studies, like Leonard Sweet's "Soul Tsunami" or Robert E. Webber's "Younger Evangelicals"... Or of course, there were (and have always been) books about the best theories for starting or growing churches (I could probably name off a couple dozen books in this category).  I read all these different kinds of books -- and I genuinely benefitted from what they had to share -- but I always felt kind of guilty because I didn't seem to naturally soak up that kind of reading as much as my colleagues and contemporaries did.  I read those types of books as a type of "continuing education," but I enjoyed them about as much as I enjoyed my academic textbooks from my university years.

If it was up to me, I much preferred the latest novel by Douglas Coupland or a nice collection of short stories by various authors.  These felt more entertaining to me -- but also more inspiring, and I might even say more instructive.  But as someone working in full-time Christian ministry, I always felt kind of sheepish about these preferences.  And over time, I even came to feel embarrassed that I had "only" studied Communications and Creative Writing.  Like these had nothing to do with Christian ministry, and I could have just as easily trained to become a zoo-keeper.

But for whatever reason, I've been noticing a cultural trend within Christendom over the last couple of years:  a sort of return to story-telling.  Actually, I think it's happening in the culture at large, too.  Have you noticed it?  Have you picked up on any kind of a return to story-telling?

For whatever reason, a number of different external sources have stimulated my awareness of this phenomenon.  I just recently finished reading Douglas Coupland's latest book:  Generation A, which "champions the act of reading and storytelling as one of the few defenses we still have against the constant bombardment of the senses in a digital world."  And, I might add, the book does this in a really interesting and provocative way.  Then just this morning, I read something that Amber van Schooneveld had recently posted about story-telling, literary critique, and "children's books." She makes a brilliant case for story-telling that jives very much with what I've been noticing and what was brought up in Coupland's book.  And then, just an hour after reading the piece from Amber van Schooneveld, I stumbled across a beautiful description of the story-telling powers of the Bible, written by Gerard Kelly.  And through all of these stories about stories, my enthusiasm has continued to build and build.

I still don't know exactly what to do with these observations or these enthusiastic feelings.  Of course, I can keep delighting in the story of the Bible.  I can use my church's pulpit as a forum for biblical story-telling (while not neglecting other important parts of preaching, of course).  And I can keep tinkering around with my own stories here on the internet (and hopefully soon in more widely-published places).

For now, though, more than anything I'm just thinking, wondering, and feeling... almost like I'm back in Mrs. Ream's 7th grade English class.

Did you know that the Dutch have a three-letter abbreviation for the phrase "three-letter abbreviation?"  I'm totally serious!  I only know this one because of Wikipedia -- but it's dla = drieletterig afkorting = three-letter abbreviation.  And even without Wikipedia, I was well aware of the fact that the Dutch love their abbreviations.

What's crazier is that I was recently realizing how much I've come to love them, too.  At first, they drove me crazy -- like I was supposed to learn this foreign language (Dutch) and the foreign language within their language (Dutch abbreviations).  But as I've gotten used to them, I've really come to appreciate their efficiency.  Below, I've listed a number of these "dla"s which have come to be a part of my daily correspondance (along with their full meaning and their English equivalent).  Some of them have direct American/English equivalents, but most do not:

• a.s. = aanstaande = this coming (as in "this coming Thursday")
• a.u.b. = alstublieft = please
• bv. = bijvoorbeeld = for example (equivalent to American/English "e.g." or "i.e.")
• d.m.v. = door middel van = through the use of
• e.a. = en andere(n) = and other(s)
• enz. = enzovoort = et cetera (equivalent to American/English "etc.")
• i.p.v. = in plaats van = instead of
• i.v.m. = in verband met = in connection with
• m.b.t. = met betrekking tot = with regards to (roughly equivalent to American/English "re:")
• m.u.v. = met uitzondering van = with the exception of
• n.v.t. = niet van toepassing = not applicable (equivalent to American/English "NA")
• o.a. = onder anderen = among others
• t.a.v. = ter attentie van = to the attention of (equivalent to the American/English "ATTN:")
• zg. = zogenoemd = so named (roughly equivalent to the American/English "a.k.a.")

I find myself so comfortable with some of these that I've actually started internally moaning the fact that there's not an American/English equivalent for all of them!  Especially with i.p.v. and a.s.  I've even started slipping in some of these abbreviations in some of my English correspondence with people who are familiar with the Dutch abbreviations.  Weird, huh?  I'm fascinated by the way that language acquisition and assimilation works itself out, even now after eight years of being immersed in Dutch culture and language.

There's a separate category of Dutch "dla"s that are not so exceptional in that an abbreviation is used -- but more in the way that the abbreviations are used in the spoken language.  The two that most immediately come to mind are the following:

• hiv = humaan immunodeficiëntie virus = Human Immunodeficiency Virus = HIV
• soa = seksueel overdraagbare aandoening = Sexually Transmitted Disease = STD

Again, these aren't so exceptional in the way that they're abbreviated; we do exactly the same things in English.  But when an American speaks out these abbreviations, they pronounce each letter:  "Aych Eye Vee" and "Ess Tee Dee."  But in Dutch vernacular, they're pronounced just like they're spelled, as their own little words:  "Hiv" and "Soa."  Fascinating stuff... Perhaps not all that meaningful, really.  But still, fascinating to me.

I got this from 22 Words, who got it from The Economist.  It's a map of the United States, labeling each state with a country that has an economy of a similar size.  Such an approach to economics, of course, never provides the complete pictures; still, it's a pretty cool representation of world economics -- and particularly the role that the United States plays in the world economy.  My home state of Ohio, for instance, has an economy roughly the same as Belgium.  My other home, the Netherlands, would be most accurately compared with the state of Florida.

Crazy, huh?

I just learned that Richard Winters died yesterday.

I never knew the man, and I can't even say that I know that much about him.  Nevertheless, I've been inspired by his example of leadership, service, and integrity; and it seems appropriate to recognize his passing.

For those of you who are not familiar with Richard Winters, he is most well known for his role as the commanding officer of Company E, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, from D-Day to V-E Day.  I learned about his story through the book, Band of Brothers, by Stephen Ambrose and through the mini-series of the same title, directed by Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg.

I remember sitting among the rafters of the old attic-space on the Leidsekade, just weeks into our family's transition from Ohio to Holland, eating burnt microwave popcorn and watching the Band of Brothers DVDs with a group of men from our church planting team.  We identified strongly with with men of Easy Company, as we struggled through the early days of establishing a meaningful ministry presence in Europe.  And that identification only grew stronger for me as the years wore on and that group of men dwindled.  One year, my home group got me a box set of the DVDs for my birthday -- and it's still a proud part of our family's film collection.  I still watch the series once a year, probably, and I'm definitely planning to watch it again this year (as it's looking likely that our family will be taking a trip to Normandy this upcoming summer).

At any rate, I always respected the role that Richard Winters played in the story of Easy Company.  He was a humble guy, with a strong sense of integrity.  He knew what it was like to fight in the trenches, but he also knew how to play strategic roles in command.  He knew how to speak with confidence, and yet without arrogance.  I aspire to his example of leadership, and I aspire to his example of humanity.

I hope and pray that Richard Winters may now rest in peace.

I just went with my kids to see the the exhibit, "Illusions of Reality" at the Van Gogh Museum here in Amsterdam, and I was seriously impressed.  It's all Naturalist paintings from the end of the 19th Century and beginning of the 20th Century:  massive canvasses with life-sized subjects who stare out at you with a jarring sense of authenticity.  The painting above, "Sans Asile" (Homeless) by Fernand Pelez, is just one example.  But it should give you an idea.  It's some pretty powerful stuff.

Unfortunately, the exhibit is only going to be around for another five days.  If you're in Amsterdam, though, I'd highly recommend a visit.

Bowling Green State University, my alma mater, is a respectable school.  It's not flashy or elite.  It's not one of those ancient, ivy-encrusted academic institutions, nor is it one of those brand-spanking-new, state-of-the-art concept schools (though BGSU has been around for more than a century, and I'm continually impressed with the ways that the school is constantly renewing itself and renovating its campus).  The truth is that it's a modest, middle-of-the-road, Midwestern university.

When I went there as a student, Bowling Green did have one of the top Communications programs in the United States -- but seriously, I went there (and I'd guess that most people end up going there) because it's a nice school, in a nice little town, with a bunch of nice people living there.  The strength of BG is its normality.  It's just a bunch of even-tempered, hard-working, salt-of-the-earth, middle-class people living, studying, and having fun together on the plains of Northwest Ohio.  I wouldn't trade my Bowling Green years for anything, but it's not the kind of place that inspires the rabid fanaticism or stodgy arrogance that you might find among other schools' alumni.  Quiet, humble loyalty is more like it.  We Falcons fly silently, at a range of different altitudes.

Still, we can't put that kind of thing in our public relations materials.  That's just not the way that academic marketing in the United States is done.  It's much more about "Thinking BiG," or "Being Great," and celebrating the ways that BGSU is cutting edge, trend-setting, and pride-worthy.  Worth spending the thousands of dollars that are necessary to receive an education from there.  I get that.  It makes sense to me.  It's natural to see university publications singing the praises of alumni who have gone on to become CEOs, public officials, and top scholars in their fields.  And rightfully so, since there are a lot of BGSU graduates who have gone on to do great and glorious things.

But browsing through a recent BGSU publication's listing of notable alumni, I thought it was amusing to note my own personal reaction to the listing of Bowling Green State University's Centennial Alumni Awards (basically a listing of 100 of the Most Prominent Alumni).  Out of all the people who have gone on to do all those great and glorious things around the world, the listing which surprised and delighted me the most was "James Pickens Jr. (Class of 1976, actor, currently in the ABC hit "Grey's Anatomy)."

That's right -- as much as I'm embarrassed to admit it (because of what it might say about me, as well as my alma mater) -- the BGSU graduate who really stood out to me is the Chief of Surgery at Seattle Grace Hospital:  a fictional role a fictional hospital.  And even at that, he's maybe a third- or fourth-level star on the TV series!  We don't lay claim to world-famous medical professionals or "A-list" Hollywood celebrities... But we can be proud of our graduate who has played the part of world-famous medical professionals on television, and who serves a subtle-but-steady role in this dramatic series.  It's kind of underwhelming, I supposed.  Still, a BGSU graduate is the one who is Dr. Richard Webber -- wizened, no-nonsense, serious-yet-fun, loveable-but-not-sexy father figure on the show... which actually seems to match perfectly with the stereotype from Bowling Green State University.  Grounded and responsible, yet we don't take ourselves too seriously.

I just think it's interesting to notice the way that BGSU presents itself to -- and catches the eye of -- the outside world.  It makes me wonder:  How do I do this sort of thing in my own life?  What are the parts of myself that I emphasize to others, or that others most naturally find remarkable about me?  Or on a broader level, who are the people that I tend to put forward as an example of someone from my family?  From my church?  From Ohio or Amsterdam?  And what do these points of emphasis reveal about the character of their constituency?  I'm proud to be a Falcon, but it's interesting to consider why...

I've been living the life of a single parent for the past few days, since returning to Amsterdam on New Year's Day (though not for much longer, since Marci and Cor should be on their way back to Amsterdam at this very moment).  In addition to the single-parent dynamic, we've all been jet-lagging pretty bad.  Consequently, there have been a few minor issues that have cropped up in our household.  The cooking has been decidedly sub-par.  I've had a couple of unexpected scheduling problems with work.  And I'm not good at all when it comes to fixing Olivia's hair into pony-tails or even basic barettes.  But aside from these minor considerations, we've been getting along pretty well, if I do say so myself.  In a way, I've even felt proud of myself for being such a capable "single-parent."  Dads often get a bad rap, when it comes to managing household duties without a Lady of the House... But I've been doing just fine, thank you very much.

This morning, I smacked my alarm clock and rolled out of bed at 7:30 sharp.  I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to decide if I should do some exercise or not -- and in the end, I decided that I'd better skip it for today.  I wasn't feeling 100 percent, health-wise; and besides, the morning was going to be busy enough with trying to get breakfast for the kids, make their lunches for them, supervise their dressing and grooming routines, and chauffeuring them to school.  So I just sauntered directly to the bathroom instead for a shave and a shower.  When I got out of the shower, I got out my Bible and sat down at the dining room table for a few minutes of spiritual inspiration.  And then I got up and started unloading the dishwasher, like I usually do in the mornings before getting the kids up from bed.  Things were going pretty smoothly, and I remarked that I didn't feel the effects of jet-lag as badly today as I had on the previous few mornings.  Life was returning to normal.

And then I noticed the time on our kitchen's microwave:  8:20.  Five minutes before the time that I usually take the kids to school!

I had overslept by a whole hour, and I was so stupid and out-of-it that I didn't even realize it until 50 minutes later!  I should have been getting up at 6:30 (not 7:30), and I had apparently just kept whacking away at the alarm's snooze button for a full hour past my normal wake-up time.  But because the second and third digits of the alarm clock matched up with my usual routine, I didn't think anything of it.  Suddenly, we all went from being very organized, and capable, and totally on top of the single-parenting thing to being very chaotic, and foolish, and totally out-of-control.  I woke the kids up, and they did a great job of getting ready as quickly as possible.  I called the school and explained our situation to them, which at least elicited laughter instead of reprimands.  And in the end, even though I was about 25 minutes behind our normal routine, I was able to get the kids to school before the gate had even closed (so I don't think that we even ended up being officially late).  It really didn't end up being all that big of an issue.

Still, I learned some humility in the process.  And I built even greater anticipation, enthusiasm, and appreciation for the return of my wife tomorrow morning.  I just hope that I'll wake up for her arrival on-time.

I've finally completed my Proverbs 365 project!  In so doing, I've succeeded in fulfilling one of my primary resolutions from a year ago:  cataloguing 365 distinct and separate entries -- short stories, essays, poems, and personal anecdotes -- about 365 distinct and separate proverbs of King Solomon.  And even though some of the entries are better than others, overall I'm very pleased with how the project turned out.

So for the last time, I offer you a monthly review of Proverbs 365 -- from December 2010.  In addition to the exhaustive table of contents below, I want to highlight three of my personal favorites here as well...

Proverbs 6:27 is a brilliant example of what makes the Proverbs so great.  There, it reads:  "Can a man scoop fire into his lap without his clothes being burned?" But do you know what the verse is actually talking about?  That is, do you know what the context really is?  If you do, the Proverb becomes quite funny.  I do my best to explain things a little bit (without getting too much in the way of the original Proverb) in my post, P627 - Pants on Fire.  It's good realize some of the light-heartedness that can accompany seriousness in spirituality.

Have you ever found yourself in that awkward situation where a parent is publically flaunting their lack of parenting skills?  You know, where the cringe factor is extremely high for everyone within listening distance -- and you just don't know if you should say something about the situation or just try to look the other way?  I write about just such an experience in P907 - Mega-Mart Encounter.  It's a reflection on Proverbs 9:7, where it is written, "Whoever corrects a mocker invites insult; whoever rebukes a wicked man incurs abuse." As you'll see from the piece that I wrote, the operative question in such a situation is perhaps not so much if abuse is taking place -- but to whom?  Food for thought, at any rate...

When I talk with old friends and family back in America about my life in Amsterdam, one question that comes up from time to time is about the "dangers" of the city's celebrated Red Light District.  Namely:  sexual temptation.  In my post P1122 - Gold Rings and Red Lights, I wrote about this situation, saying: "I live in Amsterdam -- world-famous for its Red Light (prostitution) District... I am also a red-blooded heterosexual man... It would stand to reason that this combination should be something of a problem for me -- at least if you consider the fact that I'm a married man, striving to follow the Bible's guidelines for healthy sexuality... But honestly, it's never really been much of an issue for me." How could this be?  I explain myself further in my reflections on Proverbs 11:22.

Finally, for the complete listing of December's content, here are the titles of all 31 entries, along with direct links to the rest of the content:

• P120 - Down to the Last 31 of 365
• P212 - The Meaning of Happiness (or Lack Thereof)
• P318 - The Old Maple Tree
• P424 - Mouth-Heart Seepage
• P511 - Dawn of a New Day
• P627 - Pants on Fire
• P704 - Bros Before Hoes
• P813 - Hating and Fearing
• P907 - Mega-Mart Encounter
• P1031 - Words, Words, Words
• P1122 - Gold Rings and Red Lights
• P1224 - All About the Diligence
• P1309 - Incarnation #2
• P1430 - A Heart at Peace
• P1519 - The High Road
• P1626 - Appetite Lost?
• P1727 - Leading with Balance and Restraint
• P1818 - Paper-Rock-Scissors
• P1922 - The Sociological Effects of Unfailing Love
• P2001 - Everything in Moderation
• P2124 - Mocker Is His Name
• P2206 - The Proverb that Strikes Fear into the Heart of Every Parent
• P2319 - Is God More Like Scrooge or Like Santa?
• P2429 - Reverberations of Reconciliation
• P2506 - No Place Among Great Men
• P2617 - Tussle in Tennessee
• P2722 - Mortar and Pestle
• P2825 - Civic Responsibility
• P2901 - Neck-Stretching Exercises
• P3010 - Minding My Own Business
• P3117 - Addressing the Weakness and Subservience of the Proverbs 31 Woman

If you've been a part of this journey through the Proverbs, thank you for the energy that you've brought into the process.  Any feedback that you might have would be welcomed For the time being, the content from Proverbs 365 will remain intact, at http://proverbs365.ericasp.com -- but I could easily imagine that there will come a time when that space from the website will be reallocated for other purposes.  As much as possible, I will do my best to inform you about any of these changes ahead of time.

Again, thank you for your interest in the Proverbs 365 project.  I'll never forget the year that I spent soaking in the wisdom of the Proverbs... And I hope that in some small way, the same might be true for anyone else who was along for the ride.

Happy New Year!

I haven't been blogging much lately because of the holidays, a personal vacation, and a concentrated push to complete a handful of other writing projects... But I think that's all pretty much past, now -- so I'm looking forward to more regular maintenance of this space in the coming year...

Christmas was spent in Florida this year, and it was lovely. I really enjoyed the opportunity to experience a siginificantly greater exposure to sunshine... and to family (my Mom's whole side of the family congregated on Siesta Key, on the Gulf Coast, for a three-day reunion). The weather wasn't all fabulous frolicking in the sun and surf -- but it was a whole heck of a lot better than the weather in Amsterdam. For those who would like to see pictures, I've posted a bunch on my Facebook page (which can also be accessed by non-Facebookers). Just go to the album entitled Christmas in Florida, to see how the holidays and vacation part of things went.

New Year's, then, was spent on an airplane -- flying back from Orlando to Washington to Amsterdam. I'm not exactly sure where I entered into 2011 (since there's an unusual dynamic of racing to meet the sunrise, out over the Atlantic)... But I really did spend some time doing some amateur calculations on this -- and the best I can figure, I was about a third of the way between the southern tip of Greenland and the western shore of Iceland, when our plane passed over from 2010 to 2011. Here's my pinpointed map of the location:

The first day of 2011 has thus been a day of getting our house back into working order and caring for two jet-lagged kids (Elliot and Olivia are with me now, while Marci and Cor don't come back until the middle of next week). So far, I can't complain. Even with the typical unpleasantries of jet-lag and post-vacation ennui, 2011 seems to be off to a pretty decent start...

The one thing that I will be particularly interested to follow up on in the coming year is some of the writing projects that I've been working on lately. Most notably, the Proverbs 365 project has now officially come to a close -- the figurative dossier stocked with 365 installments of short fiction, essays, and personal anecdotes collected over a year's worth of daily meditations -- still, I have high hopes for what it all might become in the long-term... so stay tuned, here, for further review, analysis, and announcements about the future of this project (among others).

In any event, I'm looking forward to the year to come. I hope the same is true for you, anticipating much pleasure and/or productivity in 2011... Happy New Year!