Hi. Here we are. You and me.  Right now. You know… writing is magic.  Real, practical magic.  I can communicate these thoughts to you, and you have received them asynchronously.  Furthermore, the words have a real impact on your nervous system.  I can influence you, and anyone, from afar and from the past.  Anyone can. …

I’m grateful to be here. Fifty years.  I have friends who did not make it here.  Their finish lines drawn sooner than mine. It’s 2025.  The Me that I and We know (hi!) emerged from the Universe in 1974 and universe willing? There will be more solar returns and lunar baths. Today (written 1/1/25 and…

I have the TRANSA music compilation album in my head as I write. TRANSA is the latest offering from the Red Hot Organization.  It is a celebration of the Trans community and amplifier of Trans rights’ awareness. Several weeks ago, after the United States chose Donald Trump as its president, again, and decisively so, I…

I wore my Mr. Rogers cardigan today, a gift from my wife and a sweater that had garnered only praise and positivity since I first donned it several years back.  A close friend, Jill, began calling it my, “Mr. Rogers sweater,” and the name stuck.  Fred Rogers is one of two men named Rogers who…

An image of the Two of Swords from the Smith tarot deck. A person sits upon a stage, blindfolded, serene, holding two long swords crossed at chest. In the background, choppy waters with many rocks and obstacles.

I was told who I was across my life.  Most of us are.  Born with certain seemingly unambiguous anatomy and it was off to the races.  My biological father was fiercely intent upon ensuring his son was not a faggot.  These are his words; memories gathered sneaking around and eavesdropping on conversations wherein I knew…

The title of this very brief communication is the tag-line I use for the “On Becoming…” podcast.  It may also end up being the subtitle of the book that I’m moving through.  A book that is unfolding as part autobiography; part conversation with myselves (i.e. The Gregories I’ve been and become over the years); and…

I am now fifty years old. I am a single Roman numeral old.  For most humans, this happens four times.  At one, five, ten, and fifty years.  For the rare centurion, five.  I don’t know what I will be, but I know that I am now fifty, and I’m certain that this milestone FEELS different. …

Recently, I had the opportunity to facilitate a nervous system regulation experience with a group of autistic and neurodivergent folks. This happened at an arts camp established by the non-profit for whom I currently work. One of my goals as a mentor, coach, clinician, and teacher (i.e. perceived expert, or PE)…is to find paths to…

In late December, 2020, I sat several feet from the man who had been my step-father for 36 years, across the reflective surface of a hardwood desk from a somber man who owned the funeral home where my Mom was cremated. Those ashes sat on said desk, in a nondescript green plastic box. Mom died…