Already Dancing

If you’re looking for the “everything is fine” version of me, you might want to check the archives from about three fiscal years ago. Currently, that version of Chris is unavailable, likely hiding under a pile of boxes or maybe trying to find a corner of the world where the cost of a pint of…

White Fragility is Racism. Period.

Well, it was a lovely weekend in Carlisle, wasn’t it? The weather was finally shifting, the downtown was bustling, and oh, look—literal white supremacist propaganda was scattered like garbage across neighborhoods and cars throughout our town. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Just what every community needs. They were found all over town, including one on my…

Lost and Found

For a long time, the calendar used to scream this date at me. March 5th. It would arrive with a heavy, thudding resonance—a day of defiance, of grief, of righteous anger. It has always been my day of marking the "Before" and the "After. And I have always marked it with the kind of sharp,…

Glimmers of Defiance

I am tired in my soul. I'll be honest. I've felt that drowning feeling, that specific soul-weariness that comes from watching the world break its own heart—again. Twice this week, I woke up to news of U.S. attacks. First Iran. Now Ecuador. Another day, another bombing. No wonder my whole being feels heavy. Sickened, angry,…

More Than We Know

Late February in Pennsylvania is a cold, grey bucket of suck. It's an identity crisis in real-time. It’s the season where the sky can’t decide between a 50° tease of spring and a snowpocalypse. For me, the atmosphere in late February always feels heavy, no matter what the stupid groundhog and his weather are doing.…

Everything, Everywhere, All at Once

If you’re feeling a little spiritually disoriented this week, don't worry. As if watching the fall of the USA in real time, trying to digest the magnitude of the still-not-entirely-released Epstein files, and attempting to push against the growing cloud of despair over our heads [it's not just me, right?] wasn't enough; the celestial scheduling…

Livin’ the Dream

My past weekend was... a lot. I... -closed a show on Sunday night (Dracula, a bloody good time) -attended a funeral -officiated another funeral -and was formally installed as the Affiliated Community Minister of my congregation. On Monday, I went straight into tech week for the next show. In the middle of all this, I’m…

Skinned Knees and Open Hearts

The 1980s. Remember those days? The sun-drenched, unsupervised expanses of a Gen X childhood. We roamed free, fueled by garden hose water and a healthy disregard for tetanus. Skinned knees were treated with a dirt poultice and a shrug. Sunscreen was for wimps. And feelings? Well, feelings were best kept under wraps, thank you very…