Daily writing prompt Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive? View all responses “You deserve rest.”“Sure, but didn’t you promise to fold the laundry?”“Tomorrow me can handle it.”“Tomorrow you already has ten things on the list.” It’s a full-blown courtroom in my head before noon. One voice argues for self-care; the other objects on the grounds of negligence.

A few days ago, something unexpected happened during one of my meditations. I wasn’t deep in trance—just entering the early stages of mindfulness—when a shape emerged. Simple, dark, and unmistakable: a cross. Not radiant. Not glowing. More like a shadow imprint—not quite tangible, but undeniably there. It startled me—not because it was frightening, but because it didn’t align with who I am anymore or what I believe.

Why Stability Was the Key to My Deepest Personal Shifts Hello, CherryCoBiz community — and a warm welcome to anyone new. We’re planting roots: our family is buying a home here in Springfield. A few months ago, I wrote about almost leaving in a post called “Dreaming of Where I Belong.” But when I weighed everything — my youngest son’s momentum in high school, our health, our finances, our peace — stillness weighed more than motion.

Stretch Your Mind... The Power of a Story (Especially in Crisis) Stories are how we’ve always made sense of chaos. But in times of war, stories don’t just explain—they justify. A video titled “Iran’s Role in Biblical Prophecy” dropped recently and already has millions of views. It casts Iran—under its biblical name, Persia—as a major prophetic player from Genesis to Revelation.

Lately, my meditation practice has felt like watching static—no divine visions, no fireworks—just the long quiet minutes, sometimes twenty, sometimes closer to thirty or more, where I settle into stillness. And yet, that silence has become the vacuum through which the universe sends its most subtle reminders. In a post from last year, Beyond the Bells and Whistles: The True Value of Meditation…

Daily writing prompt What topics do you like to discuss? View all responses I like to talk about the things that make people pause and think — the topics that tug at the edges of comfort. Life and death. The mysteries of what might come after. Politics — yes, but only when we can keep it civil. I love conversations with people who know their own limits, who can say "that’s enough for today" without shutting the door completely.

Last night, I watched a video titled AI Has a Fatal Flaw that broke down, in very accessible terms, the limits of current artificial intelligence. One equation—quietly flashed at the beginning—symbolized a boundary that even trillion-parameter models can’t seem to cross. We’re approaching a mathematical wall: a place where feeding more data and power into AI doesn’t lead to proportional gains.

There are dreams, and then there are those dreams. The ones that stick to your ribs, follow you into the day, and whisper truths your waking mind hadn't yet grasped. I’ve been dreaming like this—off and on—for most of my life. But it wasn’t until I returned to my meditative practice that the dreams came flooding back. And with them, came something else: …

Exploring visions, emotional echoes, and what the subconscious might be trying to tell us Meditation, for me, has always been more than just quiet time. It’s a sacred space where the noise fades, and something deeper begins to stir. Recently, during a particularly deep meditation, I saw a man — older, bald, and visibly angry — appear in the corner of my mind’s eye.

There’s an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants that might just explain everything wrong with the world—and what we can do to make it right. It’s the one where SpongeBob decides to become “normal.”He trims away his quirks, suppresses his joy, and starts talking like a customer service bot on low battery: “Hi. How are ya? Hi. How are ya?” He’s polite.

Daily writing prompt Do you have a quote you live your life by or think of often? View all responses Do I have a quote I live by or think of often? I sure do. In fact, I live by a few. If you already follow CherryCoBiz, you might be familiar with QuietQuest, the space I created for meditation, mindfulness, and exploring the unseen layers of life.

There’s a certain peace that comes when you realize your journey isn’t about proving anything to anyone else—it’s about honoring the path that made you who you are. What I’m most proud of is knowing my journey isn’t about you; it’s about me. What I do here on CherryCoBiz—the reflections, the recipes, the revelations, and yes, even the political pieces…

The Closet in the Holland House: Meditation, Memory, and Meaning A few days ago, during meditation, I felt myself transported back to the Holland House. What began as a simple return to a childhood space quickly revealed itself to be more: a journey through memory, belief, and the hidden parts of myself that still wait to be understood. The experience has lingered with me, unfolding quietly as I continue to sit with it.

Welcome to another reflection on QuietQuest, where I share insights from my journey in mindfulness meditation. Today, I want to delve into a recent vision that profoundly impacted me, highlighting the ephemeral yet profound connection between meditation and the essence of living in the moment. The Vision: During a session of mindfulness meditation, I found myself, or rather my consciousness, in a vast field of flowers.

I had a dream the other night that I can’t shake. It was strange, vivid, and layered with symbols I can’t quite ignore. Elon Musk was in it. Not the version I see now—polarizing, reckless, unsettling—but some distorted, dreamlike version of him, surrounded by my family. We were at dinner, and I remember sitting next to him, in awe, fully aware he was the richest man in the world.

Symbols from a dream, lessons for the waking mind In May 2024, I wrote a QuietQuest post called Beyond the Bells and Whistles: The True Value of Meditation. It resonated with so many of you, perhaps because it reminded us that meditation isn’t about chasing visions or colorful displays—it’s about the quiet, consistent work of presence and peace. Since then, my own practice has been… well, uneventful.

There are nights when meditation feels like a slow unraveling, a gentle release into something deeper. And then there are nights like the one I had recently—when something rushes in faster than usual, as though the universe is eager to show you something it’s been holding back. I slipped into a deep meditation much quicker than normal. Typically, it takes me 20 minutes or more to truly relax into that place—what I often call “the zone,” where swirling colors give way to a velvety blackness, like space folding in on itself.

The storm came through fast. No power. No peace. Just rain, cats, and the distant hum of a world thrown off balance. I lay there this morning trying to meditate, to breathe into the silence—but the silence wasn’t still. It was cluttered. Full of concern for my best friend, who is once again in the hospital, suffering from the same relentless cycle of illness.

A Civicus x QuietQuest Reflection This reflection lives at the intersection of truth and healing—where Civicus holds power accountable, and QuietQuest holds space for grace. I wasn’t expecting this meditation to turn reflective in this way. But instead of visions, my thoughts wandered—unprompted, uninvited—to Virginia Giuffre. If you know me, you know I write about politics here. I haven’t focused much on the Epstein horror show, though I’ve watched from the edges—eyes open, heart clenched.

There’s a small wooden table in my memory—round, tucked in a darker corner just outside my Little Grandma Rose’s kitchen. It wasn’t the main table, not the one where everyday meals and conversations took place. It was the second table. A quiet place, rarely used, often a catch-all for mail, coupons, and other odds and ends. But during holidays and family gatherings, it came alive as the kids' table—a place of laughter, crumbs, card games, and the kind of joy only children carry.

Daily writing prompt When you think of the word "successful," who's the first person that comes to mind and why? View all responses When I think of the word “successful,” my mind doesn't stop on a single person. A flood of names rushes in—people admired by the world, people who’ve made headlines, and people I’ve personally known. But the longer I think about it, the clearer it becomes: success isn’t about who you can name.

They say we’re all only six degrees apart. Six handshakes. Six names. Six threads on an invisible web. On paper, it sounds plausible—maybe even romantic. But in real life? Sometimes it’s closer than six. Sometimes it's one. Another somewhat surreal experience happened at my place of work—not years ago, but recently. Just one small exchange made me stop and sit with this idea all over again.

Dear Friends and Fellow Seekers, If you've been with me on this journey for a while, thank you. If you're just arriving, welcome. QuietQuest began as a meditation journal—a space to explore stillness, presence, and the quiet healing power of breath and awareness. Meditation is still the heart of this space. It always will be. But like any honest practice, it’s grown deeper, more complex, and more meaningful with time.

What if this isn’t a lifeless machine, but a living memory? I’ve always had a hard time accepting the Big Bang. Not because I don’t believe in science — I do. But because something about the idea that everything came from a single, silent point of nothing… then exploded into everything we are and see… has never quite sat right with me.