J Lind



A Song of Anxiety—and Freedom

By J Lind

Because, really, I don’t think the two can be pulled apart.

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Jumping Fences

By J Lind

Depression has been the low-hanging fruit of our family tree, along with addiction. It’s an ongoing chicken-and-egg as to what-causes-what. I experienced my first bout of major depression at the ripe age of eleven, spurred on by a scene of Bill and Ted playing Twister with Death. You read that right.

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Consider the Agave of the Desert

By J Lind

One of the few native green things we have here in the Sonoran Desert is agave. You might be familiar with its syrup, a sweetener that reaches the shelves of only the hippest, Gen-Zestiest cafes. Well folks, the hype might not be overblown.

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Nietzsche & the Promised Land

By J Lind

Let’s go back: it’s the day of my last album release. A year of DIY psychoanalysis, rice-and-beans budgeting, and humiliating sessions with Real Musicians has at long last culminated in these seven beautiful horcruxes being released into the digital aether in a modest attempt to satiate the world’s desperate need for more media. Does this make me a hero? A hero wouldn’t answer the question, so neither will I.

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Boils & Possums & Kierkegaard, Oh My!

By J Lind

To get where I’m going, I first need to invite you to my pity party. Please come, and please bring some levity.

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Hospice, Hospitality & Creation

By J Lind

When I first learned about hospice, I focused on death and dying. That’s certainly one focus of hospice—but it’s not the only one.

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Faith’s Paradox: A Review of Desolation & Consolation by Drew Miller

By J Lind

I’m writing from Princeton’s Pyne Rotunda, a stained-glass sanctuary for students who haven’t finished their readings but are, consciously or not, setting themselves up for defeat. One of the problems is the furniture: this corner has a sunken armchair with a cushioned footrest, inviting you to lounge on the pretense of “focus.” I’ve fallen asleep in this same chair several times before, usually after ten minutes of head-bobbing and the realization that I’d just re-read the same passage twice without understanding any of it.

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