I don’t think I can imagine a more frightening scenario—unwittingly leading my children into the company of a bear.  It reminded me of my greatest fears as a child: falling asleep while something was burning.  Instead, I got lost in my writing obsession while a bear was lurking.

Growing up, I struggled with Pure ‘O’, and ritualistic behaviour. When I was fourteen, during summer vacation, I suddenly had this thought, how can I be sure I’m not a cannibal. I don’t think there was a specific trigger…

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t anxious. As a kid, I worried about small things, big things, even existential things, for as long as I can remember. Two early examples, from when I was probably about 5-6 years old, that come to mind are: