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On the way home from work Wednesday evening, I found myself in an oddly emotional moment that I wanted to share with a particular woman from my past. But as I thought about what I felt — and wrestled with the compulsion to call her — I had sudden empathy for a different woman about something that happened years ago.

While it’s still fresh on my mind, I wanted to talk with you about it.

I recently heard a story about two companions who were walking together when one asked the other a question.

“Which is more important,” one of the travelers asked, “the journey or the destination?”

“Neither,” answered his wise friend. “It’s the company on the journey that matters most.”

That’s ultimately what this is about. What I have to talk about tonight points to the truth that the person or people we choose to share this life with matters more than where we go or what we do. I would have found that idea crazy even 20 years ago, but it’s obvious truth to me tonight.

Tap or click the play button to hear me talk about my experience today — and how it affected me. Keep Reading

Most of you shouldn’t waste your time listening to this. It’s not for everybody. It would bore most of you.

In Hermann Hesse’s great early 20th century novel, “Steppenwolf,” the protagonist, Harry Haller, encounters a strange place with a sign out front which says, “Magic theater. Entrance not for everybody. For madmen only.”

I feel almost like attaching such a sign here, because what I’m posting tonight is not for everybody. But for the few with the madness to want to go down this rabbit hole, I’ll offer it to everybody once — with a warning.

I’m recording something with no script or plan. It would bore most people. Honest. But I hope the right people might find it — maybe you — and somehow connect with me because of where this continuing conversation could lead. If you think there’s some madness about you that might eventually connect with the “magic theater” in my mind, enter by tapping or clicking below.

It’s really not for everybody.

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I’ve never had strong opinions about Urban Meyer. I knew he was a good college football coach — at Utah, Florida and Ohio State — but I didn’t know that much about his personal life. I knew he talked vaguely about faith at times, but many public figures do, so I didn’t think much about it.

Early this week, media was filled with talk about two videos showing the very married Meyer acting inappropriately last weekend with a young woman at his Columbus, Ohio-area restaurant, Urban Meyer’s Pint House. I eventually watched the videos and was mildly surprised. I had assumed he was a happily married and decent man who wouldn’t mess with other women, but I was wrong.

Because the incident had no relevance to my life, I didn’t think much about it after that, but the headlines continued about whether Meyer would be fired from his current job as coach of the NFL’s Jacksonville Jaguars.

I felt sorry for his wife, Shelley Meyer, who I thought must be hurt and angry and humiliated about what her husband had done. But then Shelley Meyer released a statement on social media that shocked me. Bizarrely, she seemed to think her husband’s fierce critics were the ones victimizing her.

In a strange way, her statement felt almost like a way to imply, “Well, boys will be boys.” Keep Reading