Kirk blAug

This morning was the turning point in a saga of stress that had lingered like a persistent fog over my workdays. Solving the intricate puzzle of a development pipeline issue not only cleared the haze but also set a triumphant tone for the day. With a sense of accomplishment, I met with my friend Ty and his father for our weekly coffee engagement—a ritual that has become a beacon of warmth and connection in my routine. Our meetings over coffee have turned into a cherished tradition, a space where time seems to pause, allowing us to revel in the simple joy of conversation and the quiet hum of life around us. Being invited into this fold by Ty and his father has added a layer of interpersonal richness to my life, for which I am deeply grateful. With spirits buoyed by caffeine and company, I proposed a trail run to Ty. The opportunity to lace up and hit the paths of Emmenegger with my loyal companion Goat was met with enthusiasm. Our run was mapped out as a 'yin yang' course—a trai

Today tested my resolve once more, bringing forth the harsh reality that the path to harmony can sometimes be paved with discord. Facing vitriol from a person I once believed held me in love's regard is a stark reminder of how much has changed. Despite our agreements and my earnest attempts to adhere to them, criticism has been quick to follow. Yet, in the face of such trials, I'm reminded of the power of appreciation. I am deeply thankful for the professionals who steadfastly guide our family with the best interest of our children at heart. They are the unsung heroes in our story, each playing a vital role in weaving a tapestry of support and understanding for our kids, who find themselves amidst turmoil they never chose. The co-parenting counselor, the compassionate team at Kids in the Middle, our dedicated Guardian ad Litem, my therapist, and the insightful authors whose works have been a beacon during stormy times—all of these individuals collectively form a bulwark

Today was a whirlwind of tension, beginning with an anxiety-inducing co-parenting counseling appointment. To add to the strain, a complex problem at work presented itself as an unyielding puzzle, contributing another layer of stress to my already fraught day. In search of solace, I turned to my meditation practice, hoping to find balance in its calming repetition. When a single session didn't suffice, I doubled down, giving myself over to the practice a second time. Seeking further release, I laced up my running shoes and set out with Goat, my loyal companion, for a run that I hoped would clear my mind as effectively as it would energize my body. However, it wasn't until the responsibilities of work and the weight of the appointment had lifted that I truly found my escape. I delved into the virtual worlds of video games—a realm where stress and reality dissolve into pixelated adventures. Today, I lost myself in the creativity of Tsunami's Mario Maker level, then transitione

 This morning's run was set against the backdrop of nature's own amphitheater at the Bluff View trailhead. My friend Ty and I were the early birds, with a plan to meet others, but a small mishap with communication led us to different starting points. Nevertheless, the trails decided we should reunite, and they wove our paths together in their own time. What felt like a swift journey through the Bluff View and Zombie trails culminated in an 8-mile adventure that surprisingly left me no more fatigued than when we started. The trails here have changed character over time, mostly due to the Greater Ozark Off-Road Cyclists (GORC) reshaping them with mountain bikers in mind. Though it's lost some of its allure for those of us on foot, the trail retains a certain charm that keeps us coming back. I’ve noticed a shift in my trail running habits; where once the trails were my weekday sanctuaries, they've now become weekend retreats. Perhaps it’s the natural progression of growing

 This afternoon, the boys and I ventured into the heart of city charm and nostalgia—Cherokee Street's Antique Row—for the beloved annual Cookie Spree. Our family's affinity for antiques is only matched by our fondness for cookies, making this event a perfect outing for us. The spree coincided with the Print Bazaar, a celebration of local print artists, bringing an additional layer of creativity to our excursion. Stepping back into this tradition after a hiatus during the pandemic, we noticed changes; the antique shops seemed sparser, giving way to a burgeoning scene of print artistry. The street was alive with creativity and community, a clear sign of transformation since our last visit. Among the many delights, one of the more unexpected encounters was with a friendly llama, nonchalantly gracing one of the street corners. It added a touch of whimsy to our day, creating one of those unique memories that we'll look back on with a smile. Despite the joy of the spree, there co

On a crisp morning, I embarked on a solo run to Laumeier Sculpture Park, a sanctuary where art and environment converse in silent splendor. With each visit, I discover new layers of meaning within its vast, open spaces. Today, I revisited familiar sculptures, each resonating with memories and inviting reflection on their deeper meanings. The park's verdant paths led me to Tony Tasset's 'Eye,' an oversized, hyper-realistic eyeball sculpture that commands attention. Its unblinking gaze seems to challenge the observer, a reminder of the omnipresence of nature and the constant observation we're under in today's society. It's as if the 'Eye' encourages a deeper introspection, a call to look within as much as it looks out onto the world. Not far from this arresting vision is Alexander Liberman's 'The Way,' a towering assembly of red cylinders that reach skyward in a complex yet harmonious arrangement. Even as it undergoes renovations, it stands

This morning's journey with Goat, my steadfast four-legged companion, led us to the Lewis and Clark trail system in Weldon Spring, a place that holds a special spot in my heart. On a whim, I decided to break the routine and traverse the Lewis loop in the opposite, clockwise direction. This slight deviation from the norm felt like a refreshing change of perspective, a small rebellion against the expected. As we reached the point where the Lewis and Clark trails diverge, I chose the path less traveled by us lately — the Clark loop. The decision proved serendipitous. Away from my usual favorite bluff on Lewis, I stumbled upon a new bluff accessible from Clark. There, enveloped by the stillness, I paused to meditate. The tranquility was palpable, seeping into my very being and carrying through the rest of my run. The trails were quiet, with the overcast sky and brisk air deterring most from venturing outdoors. For Goat, this meant the freedom of roaming off-leash, a joy mirrored in his