A telling

As, perhaps, people stumble backward into reading All is Telling, I will tell a story.

A boy decided, after a long struggle, that he was unhappy. He couldn't put the disparate pieces of his life together in a sensical way. As an only-child, he grew up accustomed to his only company and goals, but the choice-web of his life grafted new ones to him. Now he had academic, parental, and martial concerns. The first two were vibrant, fluid, and alive. The third one was paralyzed.

Against his own instincts and upbringing, he separated and began the process of divorce. He was accused, at times, for deciding to leave his children as well, but this was not true. Keeping them as close to him as was fair and possible became his passion. He was not a terribly schedule-oriented person; he became one when it was required. He continued, as best he could, to keep up with the pressures of teaching, research, laundry, diet, and grooming. Some of these fell by the wayside occasionally.

He has survived a two-year divorce negotiation that felt more like a war. He is beginning to think dissertation again. His income is a fractured patchwork of freelance projects, teaching pay, and loans. Somehow, he has arranged it so that his parenting time and work time is separate. His life is buoyed by the weekly arrival of his children, the beauty of a new relationship, and tightly weird urban family.

He enjoys rock shows, handcrafted art, profound movies, frisbee, Legos, drawing, reading aloud, singing, studying and arguing. You may not know him, but you could.

He will thrive. Also, he lives in New Mexico.