Come Walk with Me
@ ThankU.io 

This tree is right outside my great-room window. I look toward it nearly every morning, as I gaze east over Silicon Valley to where the sky begins to brighten, and the sunrise arrives. And then one morning, I saw her. A heart. I've been looking out this window for 20 years, but I'm seeing things differently. Maybe it's because I've been deliberately practicing what I call Bloomscrolling, my antidote to doomscrolling. Instead of scrolling through everything that's wrong with

I went back to find the Hobbit Tree. Turns out, I had already found it. Sometimes what we're searching for is right in front of us. We just don't recognize it. Well, this is embarrassing. I told you about going back to find my Hobbit Tree, the wonderful old tree where I'd planned to leave a little yellow kindness rock. I couldn't find it. So I found another wonderful tree, tucked the rock inside, and decided perhaps the magic wasn't where I'd left it. There was just one probl

I found a Hobbit Tree, painted the perfect little rock for its doorway, and went back to deliver it. There was just one problem. I couldn't find the tree. Fortunately, the mountain provided another solution. And then there are the trees that apparently exist simply to mess with me. On a hike with Ghost, I discovered a wonderful tree with a little opening at its base that looked exactly like a Hobbit hole. Obviously, such a discovery required a rock. I went home and painted on