But when you cross over... time stops. When I came back... I knew... all the things I could see were real. Heaven and hell were right here. Behind every wall, every window. The world behind the world, and we're smack in the middle. -John Constantine You have one. Whether you choose to admit it, or even acknowledge it, your innerworld exists- the reality behind the reality. Your shadow place. The secret refuge from the routine, from the daily grind, where your not-so-guilty pleasures explode and unencumbered fantasies materialize. Much like your outerworld, the landscape there brims with desire and temptation, with one profound difference- in that place, your special place, it is all up close, tangible, and infinitely more vivid; there are zero encumbrances preventing your engagement. Held in check by societal norms, there you are not. Pinned down by regulation, authority, social decorum, or the demands of others, there you are not. So when you find that opportune moment, evening

  1978 Dad took me to the third game of the World Series at Yankee Stadium. The Dodgers were up in the series, leading two  games to nothing, and game three was a “must win” for the Bronx Bombers. The Yanks were behind  1-0 in a third inning and the Dodgers had runners on first and second with one out. We were sitting in the second tier, third base line. I was staring directly at my favorite player, Greg Nettles, the third baseman. Thurman Munson was standing behind home plate shouting something to him. Lucky for us, Ron Guidry was on the mound.  One pitch later Steve Garvey hit a rocket down the third-base line which Netttles speared, fired to Roy White at second base who in turn threw to first to complete the double play. Inning over, and the Yanks were out of the jam. I remember turning to dad. “If Greg had not made that play it  might have meant  multiple more runs for the Dodgers, and the Yanks would’ve been a deep hole, and if they lose the game they probably will lose the World

My son Toby and I have been digging for diamond ore. It lies deep- very deep, secretly embedded in the depths of the digital world; you won't come across any in those upper layers Minecraft’s green surface. Finding any at all requires some heavy mining- down many, many levels past the dirt, the cobblestone, the granite. Beyond the deposits of coal and clusters of redstone. I even passed up some gold ore to get to it. When I had finally made it into the bowels of the underworld, it still took a lot of work and dumb luck with my simulated iron pickaxe to reach some of those rare grey cubes glittering with nuggets of sky blue diamond ore. I get there, mark the site, and notify Toby about my discovery. He had tasked me with finding diamond ore for a special purpose. He joins me sublevel and assists in the harvest to bring the bounty to his wizard's crafting table. He can then create all kinds of special implements endowed with magical spells. Every Wednesday, we meet online in this

Four years ago today was Implosion Day . My absolute worst, my bottom. The day by which all other "bad" days in my life will forever be compared. Nothing since has come close, and although the future is by definition uncertain, I truly doubt any day will. By some quirk of the calendar, Election Day 2016 happened to be November 8th, the second Tuesday of the month. I know this, because it was also my first night spent in residential treatment. I am going to take you back to that fateful evening. Oblivious to any events outside my own skull, I remember being surprised to look up at the TV in the residents' lounge in the Big House to see CNN's John King standing beside a giant map of the U.S., states colored in red, blue, and yellow: After the meeting, I wandered into the residents’ lounge, a large, hospitable room with a sitting area, two computer stations, a refrigerator stocked with high-calorie “nutritious”snacks, a juice fountain, cushy oversized furniture, and a h