On The Fly

In this episode, When Beauty Stops By . . . “Beauty does not linger; it only visits.” When was the last time you let that thought settle in? Most of us don’t. We’re too busy chasing beauty—buying it, booking it, or photographing it. But maybe beauty isn’t something you pursue. Perhaps it’s what shows up when you finally stop sprinting. It lives in the periphery: an uninvited smile, a few notes of music on the wind, the velvet green of grass, a breeze through autumn’s gold. Beauty doesn’t send a calendar invite. It just arrives—quietly, undeserved, right on time. The problem is our default setting: Hurry. We scroll, reply, refresh, repeat. We treat silence like a software glitch. But beauty only visits when you stage a small act of rebellion—when you step off the treadmill and allow yourself to be still. This trip to France isn’t about museums or monuments. It’s about reconnecting with the genuine beauty of family—the kind that doesn’t need you to be your best, only your real self. The...

In this episode, Beyond Happiness: How Beauty Unlocks True Joy . . . While pedaling through Southern California's beautiful, golden hills this past weekend, a question gently surfaced: "Why does this feel so good? And why settle for happiness when you can experience something far deeper?" Fifty-five years in the making, this ride was about to offer an answer. At 14, I first discovered the incredible freedom of riding a bicycle—the exhilarating thrill of the wind rushing past me, the soothing rhythm of my breathing, and the beautiful feeling of truly being in the world, not just passing through it. All these years later, I treasure my rides, waking up early on quiet weekends to embrace the morning on two wheels. But today's ride was different. The spring air was clean, calm, and textured with the scent of new blossoms. The mustard plants were in bloom — California’s golden fireworks — and the hills were lit with color, like a living Van Gogh. I could feel happiness bu...

In this episode, Where Beauty Lives . . .   Have you seen God in a shimmer of light? In a shadow that dances or stars in the night? Not tucked in a book or perched in the sky, But right in the dazzle that slips past your eye. In puddles and pinecones, in pebbles and air, In the whoosh of the wind or the curl of your hair — God isn’t hiding on some distant shelf, But laughing and leaping and being itself. Not grumpy or gloomy or watching you frown, But spinning the world in a marvelous gown! In bluebirds and brushstrokes, in fireflies' glow, In the hush of a moment that asks you to slow. So don’t wait for thunder or tablets or signs — Just follow the flicker that shivers the pines. Ask questions, see colors, be curious too, And beauty — beauty—will whisper to you: "I’m here in the quiet, I’m here in the gleam, I’m here in the in-between spaces you dream. So soften your eyes and open your heart — That’s where the seeing of seeing will start."