The Fire of Flamenco
When I showed up for a flamenco dinner in Seville, I wasn’t expecting a life-altering moment. I was just trying not to cry into my tapas. But then she appeared—in the corner of a tiny bar, under twinkle lights and a “no moving during the show” rule—and reminded me, with every stomp and sweep of her arm, that I still had a body. And a choice.
The Cats Who Ignored Me in Spain
A solo trip to Spain wasn’t the plan. But when my travel partner disappeared into work and I found myself wandering the Alhambra with only sun, stone, and disinterested cats for company, I learned something surprising about presence, perspective—and how a well-timed feline blink can feel like emotional support.
Not the Second Coming—But Maybe Something Else
Maybe I wasn’t Jesus. Maybe no one is. Or maybe we all are—not as saviors, but as hands and feet, as hearts capable of kindness, as people who, in whatever small ways we can, bring light into the world.