HeyJaredDARE TO BE
A place to practice living into our days by slowing down, exploring sobriety, and tapping into our collective creativity and curiosity.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 9
- Latest publication
- Sep 26, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 10, 2026
Latest issues
Climate Change (opens the original)
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Where I live in the U.S., we are watching an early season Nor’easter whirl through this weekend. Concerns grow over the leaves still holding on to branches, acting like sails on a boat, just waiting to fly away and cause power outages. It seems weather wants our attention. I’ll never understand the people who dismiss climate change. I believe in science and I believe what my eyes are seeing. Today I knew I wanted to write something unplanned. Just show up, no forecasted essay. Nothing in particu
Oh, She’s Such a “Pick-me” (opens the original)
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My daughter is in 7th grade. The middle of middle school. I am a woman in mid-life, remembering. I hear the stories she shares with me and my own come sweeping back. While making herself a Nutella sandwich after school recently, licking the butter knife mid-sentence, my daughter Caroline asked if I wanted “today’s gossip.” I will never say no to that because I want her to always share the things. I know that while she doesn’t have the words to explain it this way, this is her metabolizing the la
A Broken Heart is a Hungry Heart (opens the original)
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I’m here with just a little bit today. And it’s also a lot. I’m here to share a poem and a conversation.Last month, I signed up for ’s Bodylove Workshop. Corie reached out to me with a sweet private note after reading what became the eulogy for my dog. Stella was tethered to my soul. I’ve never known a love like that, and I donR
Does It Get Worse Before It Gets Better? (opens the original)
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The older I get, the less I can tolerate noise. “Can you turn it down?” is recycled through my house. I toss it in the direction of my spouse and my kids. I understand my late Papa more now. He used to mute the television as soon as the commercials rolled in. “Too loud. I don’t need the barking,” he’d explain as he tilted back in his recliner. In all my 48 years, I’ve never met a gentler man person. He knew the sanctity of inner peace. A Papa Buddha, if you will. I live right next to our town’s
Loving a Dog Enough to Let Her Go (opens the original)
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The August air was politely cooler. She struggled with this summer’s humidity. No AirPods. No music other than the birds chirping and witnessing.Our walks the last few weeks required frequent stops. Muscle weakness and panting a painful reality. But it wasn’t this morning.We only made it three houses down. With a tilt of her head up at me, we turn around and climb back up the hill of our street. A meeting of the eyes, language for love that has no words. I clip off her leash, like the old days w
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