It might have been when we were on the beach of Lake Superior at the National Pictured Rock Shoreline. Or, it might have been when we were overlooking Ausable River in the Huron National Park. But, a calming feeling of earned happiness washed over me. It was a feeling everyone deserves to achieve, the feeling that life is freaking great.

Done! Finished! End of the line! End of the Road! Friday at noon it was all over. My graduate school journey was put in the rearview mirror. My research and the defense of my research was the final rung on the ladder to reach the mountaintop. It’s official. I have letters behind my name

"The Blueberry,"--the nickname my 2006 Chevy HHR received from my wife--will soon be exiting my life. It’s time. It's been a good run. And, while the car never really worked that great, it holds a special place in my heart.

 I asked what had happened. Where did it all go wrong? Why did you write to me? He answered the first two questions with half answers and half truths. He could sense my disappointment and held back the truth to spare me.

Somewhere, out there in the world, there is a person who is in need of your voice, your take on the world, your artistic interpretation, or your strung-together-words that imagine a better future or a path through a difficult time.

I had a college roommate who famously said, “Anything can happen once but two times means you are onto something.”

And, if we lack principles, we all are susceptible to losing our way.  Principles become our guiding light through the emotional minefield we navigate every day.