We all have neighbors we never knew we had. They’re all out there, just beyond the window.

Uncle Ray knew it better than anyone: October’s got big lightning-rod energy.

The forest is vast and perilous. But its inhabitants can provide strange, powerful gifts if you stick around long enough to receive them.

There's no greater cure for doomscrolling, political nonsense or feeling inadequate online. But we've got to relearn how to see first.

We don't often think of this time of year as a great balancing of the ledger like we used to.

The world's too strange to brave it alone. But then again, it always has been.

It's hard to get off the highway when you forget that you're the one who's driving.

We can't understand today's stories without maintaining those that have been handed down to us.

I am not philosophy’s biggest fan.

I’d perhaps feel differently if I didn’t first have my fill of it, but I think it’s pretty obvious we can have too much of a good thing. Too much unpacking, analysis and abstraction creates distance between ourselves, and turns people into unsolved problems to either be dealt with or avoided.

I’m more of a myth guy.

Find yourself in a heated political disagreement, and philosophy might have you dismiss the exchange entirely. After all, there’s no point in taking seriously a string of enthymemes delivered via some shoddy concatenation of slogans, right? Myths can help you remember that when a mossy adversary tries to take your head, it’s natural to flinch. But if you’re brave enough to lower your head and hear them out, they can teach you things about yourself you’d never otherwise come to know.

Scroll through beauty influencers on TikTok, and philosophy might lead you to conclusions about the kids these days getting swept up in another sad theater of performative trivialities. Myths might help remind you that in some kingdoms, women have been put under an enchantment—they’re only seen as beautiful when viewed through a mirror. Enchantments can be broken, though, provided you know where they were first woven.

Find celebrities proselytizing on a screen near you, and philosophy might get you to conclude that it’s a sad state of affairs when stardom passes for cultural wisdom. Hear enough myths, and you might remember that when a kingdom is on a rocky foundation, it’s natural for other suitors to step forward and contend to inherit the realm. The most popular lords and ladies will go first of course, but they never become the people’s champion—it’s always the unassuming lad or girl in the corner after enough time passes.

I’ve heard it said by a good friend of mine that people are oceans, and I couldn’t agree more. First impressions can become beliefs, but they can also be easily shattered after just one real, open and honest conversation. It’s just that modern life no longer affords us settings in which those conversations can unfold.

Myths can help remind us to, though.

Used to be, you couldn’t find anyone in a village who didn’t have at least a handful of tales under their belt. Maybe we need more of that, and less abstraction and analysis. Looking around at where deconstruction has led us, I think there may be room for alternatives.

Some say you can never go back again. Others suggest you can never leave.