This summer my husband was out of town (business in Australia, plus post-Pacific jet lag), I couldn’t drive due to a broken leg, and both kids were in day camp. Different camps, different locations, different drop-off times, different pickup times.

My in-laws stepped up. They were wonderful about it. But everything they needed to know was stored inside my head or my email, so it all went into a group text- and group texts get messy and confusing real quick.

We all really could have used a dashboard.

What I was trying to hand off, one text at a time, has a name. As a mother of two- a daughter now 14 and a son now 10- each with their own schools, extracurriculars, and various appointments- I have come to appreciate what is frequently referred to as “the mental load.” The mental load is keeping track of all the things- what’s needed, when it’s due, who needs to be where and when, when to leave, what to bring, forms to fill out, insurance information, date of last Tdap, remember they’ve outgrown the last size, someone needs a haircut- and that’s just two children on a normal day. Household management, the dog’s needs, the husband’s schedule- is someone sick?!- and don’t forget to take care of yourself!

I have been working on several projects using AI- mainly Anthropic’s Claude these days, but OpenAI’s ChatGPT as well. One of them is a dashboard for a volunteer team- and as we approached the start of the school year, a thought occurred to me- I could really use a dashboard- an interface that would assist me in managing the mental load. So I did just that, and I want to tell you how I did it, in case it’s useful for you, too.

Before any of the how- here is what one looks like. That’s a working demo with a made-up family, and you don’t need a password to poke around in it.

First, most people are familiar with the “chat” sides of these AIs- Claude and ChatGPT. They each have a coding version as well- Claude Code and Codex. I use all of them to varying degrees, but for the purpose of this project, you really just need one or the other. One thing worth knowing before you pick: Codex comes with OpenAI plans, including the free one, within usage limits. Claude Code needs a paid Claude plan. Either one can build this.

Second, and before we go any further- one of the best aspects of using AI is that you can use AI to learn about AI. If you aren’t sure how to do something, or you aren’t sure if the model is capable of something- just ask. One important caveat to that- AI models have a knowledge cutoff based on when they were trained. So if some new feature just came out, the AI doesn’t automatically know about it. If you’ve heard of it, but the model is saying it doesn’t exist or can’t do it, instruct it to do research- it will search the internet and learn. The largest leaps in my own progress using AI for code came from telling it that I am not a developer, I don’t code, and I know very little about how things work. Claude committed that to memory (a file it keeps on my computer that it reads over every time we start a new session). So it knows I need some hand-holding. In a way, we fill each other’s knowledge gaps.

Perhaps you’re reading this and thinking, “Wait a sec- if you don’t know anything, then why are you telling me what to do?” Fair question- the truth is I am not telling you what to do- the human-AI relationship is dynamic, so I would really struggle to come up with a step-by-step reproduction of how I built my Family Dashboard. Instead, I am sharing the process- and at the end will give you what I hope is a jumping-off point- instead of instructions for you to give your AI, a set of questions for your AI to ask you- with the goal of a Family Dashboard in mind. And if in reading this you get an idea for a different kind of dashboard- go for it.

Claude Code and Codex are translators. I type English (”I want to build a family dashboard”) and it takes that and says to itself, what code is needed to accomplish this? It does some coding stuff on its end, then comes back to me with a response in English. Claude Code and Codex also work inside your computer- they write files, and you must give them permission to do so. I will admit it was a leap of faith for me- very much like Indiana Jones standing on the precipice of that canyon in “The Last Crusade.” That was January 2026. Now (August 2026), I wish I had a Claude in real life for my entire house.

Once you get through the initial setup, you will need one more thing- a Netlify account. Netlify is a cloud platform that automates the building, deployment, and hosting of modern websites and web applications. There is a free tier for personal projects- so what you see on your computer is the same on your phone or tablet, and you can share it with others in your family- or anyone you like. One thing to watch: Netlify’s free plan runs on credits, and both publishing and traffic draw from the same monthly pot. Run low and your site can stop being served until it resets. So hold on to your changes and publish once, rather than after every little edit.

One clear thing to note from the start: the contents of the dashboard are encrypted. What actually gets published isn’t my kids’ schedules behind a locked door- it’s scrambled text that means nothing without the password. There is no family name in the web address, nothing in the page title, nothing in the link preview. Somebody who stumbles onto it sees a box asking for a password and nothing else.

So what would this have done for us back in June?

Two things:

First- it’s a record. The mental load is invisible in part because it never gets written down. It lives in one head, where nobody can see it- sometimes including the person carrying it. Building the dashboard turned all of that into something I can actually look at. Not everything- but a lot of it.

Second- it’s a place to point to. That’s the one that matters when I’m out: sick, injured, traveling, or otherwise. The reason the mental load is so hard to hand off isn’t that nobody wants to take it. My in-laws wanted to take it. It’s that you cannot hand somebody a thing that only exists in your head. You CAN hand them a link.

My kids started school last week and I have used our dashboard daily- what bus, what time, when do they get home, school supplies, forms that need to be filled out- with an eye to the future- homecoming, spirit nights, holidays- all right there on our dashboard where I can check it before I go to bed, when I wake up, while I’m in a waiting room.

For the first time in my life as a mom, I have a tool that helps share the load.

This is Part 1- creating the dashboard itself. Part 2 is about how to set your system up to automatically update the dashboard based on things like the emails you receive from school, extracurriculars, other organizations, and whatever else you’d like to have at the tips of your fingers at a moment’s notice without digging through your email.

Begin your process here:

https://alillian.com/family-dashboard/

Thank you for your support!

It’s a pervasive adage — a saying that has found its way into our cultural lexicon. If we break it down, it suggests that in attaining a goal, there’s an initial period of falsehood, while in the background work and learning are being done, followed by substance that meets with success.

I remember in college some of the business school students would wear suits to class — ostensibly to “dress for the job you want,” which is an adage or saying of a similar trajectory.

The concept of “manifestation” is a powerful one. From my experience, it’s a marriage of wishful thinking and intentional action. Thinking and action can lead to great outcomes.

What gives substance to these phrases is indeed what lies beneath — the college students’ eagerness for an opportunity to succeed. True aspiration, backed up by action.

Unfortunately, it’s also a saying that lends itself to liars and charlatans: if one simply fakes something well enough, often enough, and long enough, that will be met with success. No skill, talent, discernment, or substance needed.

Which brings me to American Christianity. To be clear, I don’t mean Christianity in America. Christianity in America is multifaceted and diverse, with numerous denominations, people of all colors, with different worship styles, some fundamental differences, but the same core beliefs.

No, what I mean is the culture of Christian Nationalism — a branded cultural identity where if you wear a cross necklace and wave the flag really hard, you are better than others, because you have the right “religion” and the right amount of patriotism. More crosses, more flags, throw in a sunset with some bald eagles, and — a fighter jet? Sold American. You don’t even have to go to church — you just need a flag, a cross, a staunch opinion about liberals, and you’re in!

Notice that there isn’t a denomination for American Christianity. This means it can be marketed to everyone — how great to have a version of Christianity that we can unite under — that isn’t squabbling over details! (Just don’t be a liberal.)

Because Christianity LOVES to squabble over details. We’ve been dealing with splits for a long time — just look at Arianism and the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. Western vs Eastern Orthodox. Catholics vs Protestants. Presbyterian USA vs PCA (Presbyterian Church in America). The United Methodist Church just experienced a massive split between the UMC and the GMC (Global Methodist Church).

So why is American Christianity so unified? Because it’s fake. It’s a façade. It’s a branded culture lacking the substance of true religion.

And this week, the fraud was on full display.

The Trump Administration took on the Church in a big way, first by challenging the Pope’s reference to the Gospel that love and non-violence are essential and non-negotiable. Pope Leo is not a war pope. I’m not Catholic, but I read the same Bible and the New Testament says the same thing. God is love; God loved you so much that that old way of doing things doesn’t matter any more; love God, and love your neighbor as yourself.

The Trump Administration doesn’t stand for any of that. The goals of this administration are power, wealth, control — might is right. And that might even be acceptable from a political standpoint, if it were honest about it. Sometimes Stephen Miller is.

But the Trump Administration thinks it can fake it till it makes it.

So we see the AI “Trump as a Biblical Healer” image.

We watch Vice President JD Vance, converted Catholic, pope-splaining.

And we hear Secretary of WAR Peter Brian Hegseth at a Pentagon prayer service (!) read a monologue from Samuel L. Jackson’s character in Pulp Fiction, by director Quentin Tarantino, known for his deliberately violent films. He called it “CSAR 25:17” and said it was meant to reflect Ezekiel 25:17. The actual Bible verse is a single sentence. The rest — the path of the righteous man, the shepherd of the weak, the vengeance and furious anger — was written by Tarantino and Roger Avary. And Tarantino lifted the frame from a 1973 Sonny Chiba movie called Bodyguard Kiba. The Secretary of War stood at a Pentagon prayer service and solemnly recited, as if it were scripture, a screenwriter’s pastiche of a Japanese martial arts movie.

All of this in one week.

The advice “Fake it till you make it” ultimately depends on the acquisition of true substance, of which this administration is woefully lacking.

American Christianity is nothing more than an empty suit without a degree, selling you more of the same emptiness provided by consumer culture. Wear a cross, wave a flag, and rest assured that you are right, and everyone else is wrong — even when it comes to war.

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The medium of the information— that is, the manner in which it is transmitted— matters, which is why there is such a fervent race to be the most influential social media platform. It’s why every single tech giant was in attendance at Trump’s second inauguration. Mark Zuckerberg created Facebook- now Meta, which includes Instagram and WhatsApp. Elon Musk bought Twitter/X.

In creating Truth Social, Donald Trump correctly judged the state of social media:

People want to be told what to think.

Which brings me to this unhinged screed, posted by President Trump to Truth Social on Sunday evening:

Pope Leo is WEAK on Crime, and terrible for Foreign Policy. He talks about “fear” of the Trump Administration, but doesn’t mention the FEAR that the Catholic Church, and all other Christian Organizations, had during COVID when they were arresting priests, ministers, and everybody else, for holding Church Services, even when going outside, and being ten and even twenty feet apart. I like his brother Louis much better than I like him, because Louis is all MAGA. He gets it, and Leo doesn’t! I don’t want a Pope who thinks it’s OK for Iran to have a Nuclear Weapon. I don’t want a Pope who thinks it’s terrible that America attacked Venezuela, a Country that was sending massive amounts of Drugs into the United States and, even worse, emptying their prisons, including murderers, drug dealers, and killers, into our Country. And I don’t want a Pope who criticizes the President of the United States because I’m doing exactly what I was elected, IN A LANDSLIDE, to do, setting Record Low Numbers in Crime, and creating the Greatest Stock Market in History. Leo should be thankful because, as everyone knows, he was a shocking surprise. He wasn’t on any list to be Pope, and was only put there by the Church because he was an American, and they thought that would be the best way to deal with President Donald J. Trump. If I wasn’t in the White House, Leo wouldn’t be in the Vatican. Unfortunately, Leo’s Weak on Crime, Weak on Nuclear Weapons, does not sit well with me, nor does the fact that he meets with Obama Sympathizers like David Axelrod, a LOSER from the Left, who is one of those who wanted churchgoers and clerics to be arrested. Leo should get his act together as Pope, use Common Sense, stop catering to the Radical Left, and focus on being a Great Pope, not a Politician. It’s hurting him very badly and, more importantly, it’s hurting the Catholic Church! President DONALD J. TRUMP

Where to begin.

I suppose I’ll start with my initial reaction, because I honestly laughed. I can’t wait to see the art installations of this next to the AI-generated image of Trump as Jesus, healing a man as others look on, with mangled eagles and fighter jets and what looks like an actual demon in the sky above- which he posted just before this. Whomever used AI to make the image (AI doesn’t just spit this stuff out, it’s prompted) didn’t even bother to clean up those sloppy artifacts- either because they lack the skill, or they didn’t care. Either way, it made for a spectacular one-two punch of abject blasphemy.

Likening himself to Jesus the Son of God, then calling the Pope— all in one go— weak, terrible, non-MAGA, critical of violence, “Weak on Nuclear Weapons” (what does that mean?!?), who meets with losers and ought to be focusing on being a Great Pope.

“Great Pope.” With a capital G. MAGA Pope. Perhaps we’ll get to see “Make the Pope Great Again” MPGA merch. White with gold embroidered baseball caps.

Lord have mercy. Truly. On all of us. And especially Donald Trump, for he knows not what he does.

The part of it that really caught my eye was this:

“Leo should be thankful because, as everyone knows, he was a shocking surprise. He wasn’t on any list to be Pope, and was only put there by the Church because he was an American, and they thought that would be the best way to deal with President Donald J. Trump”

Although I’m not Catholic (I do believe in the holy catholic/universal church), I watched the coverage of the Conclave closely, and cried so much when it was announced. I don’t know why the College of Cardinals selected Robert Prevost. I’m pretty sure Bob himself was shocked by it. But let’s say the Cardinals gravitated towards him because he was born American- I don’t think they would have done that because they thought it would be the best way to “deal” with Trump. I think they would have done that as the best way to provide a moral counter to Trump. Meet lies with truth, hatred with love, power with humility, greed with generosity and service. But that’s nothing more that speculation.

That’s also not what caught my eye. “He was a shocking surprise- he wasn’t on any list to be Pope,” has got to be the greatest thing anyone could say about a Pope, as it’s perfectly representative of the One the Pope is meant to emulate and lead people towards.

Over 2,000 years ago in the Levant, a Savior had been prophesied. And in the religious and political climate that existed in the eastern end of the Mediterranean under Roman rule, a superhero was expected- the full force of God would come into being as powerful King who would destroy the enemies of the Jews.

Jesus of Nazareth was not that.

A carpenter’s son. He recruited others to follow him- not for wealth or power- but to teach people that being kind to each other- even those we dislike and even those we don’t know- is the most important thing, behind loving God. God is love, and in loving each other, we are brought closer to God.

Jesus of Nazareth was a shocking surprise. He wasn’t on anyone’s list.

Jesus and the Gospel? That’s the real “truth social.”

I have something to admit: honestly, this feels like the worst time to be launching a Substack, as much as my friends wanted it.

Over the years I have written about many things- sharing my cancer experience, musing on American politics, diving in on social dynamics, providing thoughts on recent events, shedding a little light on my personal spirituality. Maybe a little history, a little tech thrown in.

All these diverse ideas are why I named this Substack, “Finding the Common Thread.”

The past few weeks have been challenging in a way that I didn’t anticipate.

Perhaps it’s something a good friend sent me today- a social media meme of two women sitting across from each other. On the right is a woman with her hands over her mouth in abject disbelief, listening to the woman on the left who is gesticulating and explaining something with fervor. The woman on the right is labelled “2020,” and the woman on the left is “2026.” Put plainly, even 2020 can’t believe what’s going on in 2026. I texted my friend back- “Apparently 2020 was just training.”

We are living through an incredible moment.

I love etymology- the genealogy of words- where they came from, how they got here. So let’s consider what it originally meant for something to be “incredible.”

Incredible:

In + credible

In + cred + ible

In (not) + cred (credere: to believe/trust) + able

Not credit-able

Untrustworthy

We are living through an untrustworthy moment.

Given the falsehoods that the president and his administration deliver daily, as well as the torrent of AI-generated fabrications that we are all faced with, we are indeed living through an “incredible” moment.

Now, about the president and his administration:

A small subset of the US population is very pleased with what’s going on. I have friends in that group, and they’re probably already drafting responses to this, to tell me how wrong I am. The majority of Americans, however, have issues with what’s going on, and I have friends who feel such a degree of abhorrence at the state of things that they will question how it’s possible I’m still friends with anyone in that small subset of support.

Up until recently, I subscribed to some far-right news and commentary sources. Not because I wanted to consume what they produced- but so I could keep an eye on the talking points. After a while, I decided: not for me.

My time on this earth is limited and I am very busy with a family and with projects that I love.

So here’s what I’m doing: I am going to continue to listen to the sources that I consider reasonable, especially from my moderate/independent/politically unhoused perspective. If a friend wants me to consider an issue from another perspective, I will always welcome that. But I am no longer accepting the idea that I need to go listen to ALL the ideas to be more informed. There just aren’t enough hours in the day. If you want to change my mind, it’s up to you to take the time to construct the argument. I’m done “doing my homework.”

1st quarter 2026 is done. Two more quarters until the midterms.

It’s going to be incredible, I just know it.

History repeats itself- so the saying goes.

I find that sentiment to be a little simplistic. It’s close, but not quite there. Rather, history is more than a pattern- history is a fractal. Fractals are repeating patterns, but of such complexity and detail that one part of the fractal can look completely different from the whole. Even then, the one part contains everything needed to know about the whole.

This is, to the best of my understanding, the underlying theme of Isaac Asimov’s ‘Foundation’ series. Patterns and fractals are mathematical, and math can predict. Therefore, history that hasn’t happened yet- the future- is also predictable. Fractals also operate forwards and backwards, inwards and outwards.

The ancient Roman god Janus operated forwards and backwards.

He was literally two-faced, one face looking into the past and the other face looking into the future. He was the god of beginnings, endings, transitions, doorways, and time. That is why the month January sits at the boundary between the old year and the new; it’s also why the keeper of the keys with access to many doors isn’t a mere cleaner or sanitation worker- he’s a janitor- a job label that deserves more respect that it usually gets.

If you want to know about the war in Afghanistan, look back to the last war in Afghanistan. If you want to know about the next war in Afghanistan, look back to the last two wars in Afghanistan.

If you want to know about the major pandemic, look back to the 1918 flu. If you want to know about the next major pandemic, look back to the last two.

History is a fractal.

And so it is fitting that this last “Back to the Future” review (re-view, to see again) of my old Facebook posts lands on a post from January of this year, a few weeks after the killing of Renee Good and a day after the killing of Alex Pretti, both in Minneapolis, both during interactions with ICE officers.

January 25, 2026

I’ve watched the videos- from across the street, from the lady in the pink jacket, from the lady sitting in the driver’s seat of the car where it happened right in front of her.

It appears that Pretti’s firearm was taken from him, at which point he was disarmed. With a number of other tools at their disposal, the agents should have been able to take him into custody if he was indeed a threat.

But he wasn’t. He was just recording, and then he tried to help a lady that the agents pepper-sprayed in the face. Because he was a nurse, and it was probably natural to help.

I’m going to choose my next words as carefully as I can:

People should be able to peaceably assemble with signs and songs and chants and whistles to express grievances with the Government. (1A)

People who are peaceably assembling can bear arms. (2A)

People should feel secure as themselves with their things where they live. They can also express grievances and bear arms. (4A, plus 1A and 2A)

The Bill of Rights is the law. Has been since 1791.

What we need is the right to record in public. The right to record what the Government does- what agents of the government do- what police, and ICE, and Border Patrol do in public.

Except the right to record is already a protected 1A right. You can photograph and film government officials in public spaces. Free expression and free press.

The Bill of Rights was made to protect people in America. This place- the country- was meant to be a haven for freedom for anyone here. The Founders didn’t say citizens, or Americans- they said People.

One of the most ignored of the Amendments in the Bill of Rights is #10.

The Tenth Amendment says, whatever rights missed at the state or federal level still belong to the people.

The people. Not the government. The people.

The people always have the rights. The government is there to ensure them. Protect them.

And so we come to the people.

A person.

A man.

Crispus Attucks was an American before there was a USA.

He was Native American.

He was African.

He was the first American killed in the Revolution. 1770.

He was 47.

The Boston Massacre was a pivotal moment. A wigmaker’s apprentice accused a British officer of not paying a bill. A crowd gathered. They harassed the British soldiers- verbally, and physically by throwing things. The soldiers opened fire. The incident was called a massacre by Samuel Adams and Paul Revere.

The American Revolution lives in Crispus Attucks. A native black ‘mulatto’ man. But the American Revolution also lives in John Adams, the lawyer who defended the British troops.

Justice and rights sit at the core of what it means to be human. Not just American.

The whole point of the Bill of Rights isn’t to protect ‘Americans.’ It’s to defend and protect all people within the jurisdiction of our borders.

Alex Pretti.

Renee Good.

Good and Pretti.

Attucks, Good, and Pretti.

People- and Americans- standing up to power and tyranny.

The rights of all.

If you were to compare a four-year term to an ‘average’ human lifespan of 80 years, this administration is about 23 years old.

A lot has happened in the last 14 months, and we only just got old enough to drink. We can’t even rent a car yet. Back in 2020, the word ‘unprecedented’ was used like ketchup by a picky eater- here, there, everywhere. I once joked about taking a shot every time someone said ‘unprecedented,’ but it’s a good thing I didn’t, because we’re still using that word a little too frequently than comfortable in 2026.

As I look back on some of my posts from this fall, when the administration was still a teenager, I noticed some patterns.

Smash first, design plans later. Public, on the record approval of smashing mainly falls along party lines. Actual approval of smashing- unclear. Smashing is a distraction. And finally- and possibly more important than most of us realize- the smashing is moot. It doesn’t actually matter all that much to the vast majority of Americans, at least not in their day-to-day lives. That is, it’s not a matter for consideration or meaningful deliberation- it has moved beyond distraction into spectacle.

Maybe the East Wing needed to be ripped up. Maybe Operation: Epic Fury needed to happen. Just maybe not for the reasons that come to mind.

With that, here is my original post from October 2025:

October 22, 2025

The demolition of the East Wing of the White House is very interesting to me for a number of reasons.

First, it seems that many ‘conservatives’ are praising this progressive move, while many ‘progressives’ are condemning it for not conserving the history of the building. Irony? *shrugs*

Second, the demolition is calculated to cause upset. This provides fodder for commentary. Supporters can claim to be forward-thinking and also point to all the additions and changes that have happened to the White House over the past couple hundred years. Detractors look weak for complaining when they so often champion progressive projects.

Third, the demolition is symbolic. Instead of a tearing down of the federal government via Doge cuts or the latest round of Reductions In Force during the shutdown, this is a literal tear down. Ripping up the East Wing without telling anyone your precise plans- not the press and not the people- is intentional. It’s executing something that can’t be undone.

Anyway, release the Epstein files

It’s probably my favorite movie of all time.

I also love “The Fifth Element,” but there’s only one of those, and with the masterpiece by Robert Zemeckis, you get three. Sometimes people will ask me what my favorite Back to the Future movie is from the trilogy, but it’s not really a trilogy to me- it’s one long story that had to be told in three parts, much the same as Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. In that sense, I am honestly missing two-thirds of what “The Fifth Element” could have been. Maybe I ought to try writing that.

Visiting the Past

Anyway, the best way to have a sense of what the future holds is to know the past, and with that in mind as I begin this Substack, I am going to share some of my recent past posts that I hope will give you a sense of who I am and how I think.

I could go back six years- that would put us in March 2020. In February of that year, my husband Alex told me on my next shopping trip to please get some extra canned food. “Why?” I asked. “I have a bad feeling about this thing in China,” he said. To which I think I just raised my eyebrows. “Just get it and if we don’t need it, we’ll have it for hurricane season,” he said. We’re in Houston, which has a few modes: one beautiful spring day, one beautiful fall day, 25% chance of a hot Christmas, the occasional polar-vortex-induced freezing, the why-is-it-still-oppressive October, and hurricanes. So his request seemed fairly reasonable. Then came the morning when I knew, without a doubt, that the world we had been living in no longer existed- that future had been washed away. I laid in bed and mourned. Alex came in and asked me what was wrong with me. He wasn’t being callous- he’s a guy, and he’d read the room weeks before I did. But I felt it, deeply.

I wrote a lot back then. I felt strongly about masks, distancing, and vaccines- but not necessarily the way these prophylactics were portrayed by the government or in the media. I was appalled by the lack of leadership from the 1st Trump administration. In a moment of national and global crisis, we could have been called to respond together as Americans, in solidarity. Even if our approaches to the SARS-CoV-2 virus threat were different, there was an opportunity to come together as Americans, and the president did not provide that level of leadership or cohesiveness.

Just as the ‘Spanish Flu’ disappeared from the media and public thought in the years following the outbreak, so too has Covid. We are all, literally, ‘sick’ of it, and ready to move on. So I will not bore you with posts from then, and will instead skip ahead to more recent happenings.

A big one of which was the murder of Charlie Kirk in September. I had heard of Charlie Kirk, but I’d never listened to or read anything of his in earnest. I’d heard of Turning Point USA, or TPUSA, which for the very unserious amongst us is a literal invitation to a very specific type of rebellion and smearing. You didn’t hear it from me.

Back to the serious, when the news broke that Kirk had been shot, I was very concerned. I was just as concerned when the news broke that someone had tried to shoot Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania in July. I don’t support the death penalty and I don’t support assassination or extra-judicial killings. We have at our disposal mechanisms for designing and following law that is fair and just. We just need to use them.

What I wrote the evening of Kirk’s assassination was raw.

It was about more than Kirk. It was about the same sense of loss I’d felt years prior, at the beginning of the Covid pandemic- the sense that the world we had been living in no longer existed- the sense that that future had been washed away. This is what I wrote:

“Today I stood in the grocery store reading the text from a friend- he had not survived. Maybe it was because I had watched the footage. I watched the torrent of blood gushing from his neck as his body fell back. All I saw was a man. Just a man, welcoming people to debate him. Debate. Open public debate. I don’t know what it was. But I put my head on the handle of my cart and cried.

I cried for Charlie. I cried for everyone in that crowd who witnessed that first hand. I cried for his family. I cried for that woman on the train. I cried for my son who came home to tell me about the active shooter drill they did. I cried for our country.”

I didn’t cry because Charlie Kirk was a good man or because he had a good message. As I learned more about the things he said, I understood how much we disagreed. Vehemently. But I believed in empathy, and I still do.

Now, back to March 2026. A lot has happened in the last six months. I have a couple more posts I’ll share to help orient new Threaders to my vibe. The future is unknown- a grand adventure- and we can do it together.

If you’re reading this, you most likely belong to one of two groups: you’re either familiar with my writing style and topics from my Facebook posts, or you’re from ‘the wild’ and you have somehow found yourself here. Regardless of the route you took, I am glad you are here.

I joined Facebook in the summer of 2004 between my sophomore and junior year of college. I had heard about it, and so as soon as my university’s email domain was added to their list, I created an account. 22 years and a lot of changes later, I resonate with the attitude of an older person surveying a developed area, musing something like, “I remember when this was all trees.” Except in the case of Facebook, it was ‘pokes’ and questionable college party pics. My how the times have changed.

Despite the changes, it has been my main platform for many years, and in between sharing a wide variety of posts- pictures of my kids, kitchen creations, fundraising for the American Cancer Society’s Relay For Life, other odds and ends- I have occasionally shared my in-depth thoughts on recent events. These have been set to “friends only” for the audience, but sometimes a friend will ask me to make it “public” so it can be shared.

Sharing my thoughts with an audience beyond my Facebook friends never really occurred to me. Once, one of my husband’s aunts told me that she liked to print out my posts to share with others who weren’t friends with me online. That caught me off-guard. I was writing for my Facebook audience, not strangers- or if not strangers, not people I couldn’t ‘see.’ At least on Facebook, I can see a friend’s profile, know what they post, how they think. It helps me gauge reception.

The other day, a friend reached out. He recommended that I start a Substack, and basically told me that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’m really good at telling people no, so here we are.

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What kind of community is this going to be? Preferably one that loves everything I write and never disagrees with me.

Lol. But if I can’t have that, I’d like to help foster a community of individuals who like to think and like to connect dots between things that may not seem like they have a lot in common at first. (All joking aside, I do welcome counter-points and disagreement because I value other perspectives and I often learn from them.) Hence the name of this Substack- Finding the Common Thread. This is also a play on the word “text,” which shares the same Latin root with the word “textile”- to weave. Sometimes the tapestry is straightforward, but other times it brings together very different threads, very different topics. I write about power, faith, history, rights, tech and AI. I also write about comic book heroes, dog hair, the way lightning on the beach tastes like lemon, and the importance of not watering your new money tree from Costco if you’re bad at taking care of plants. In essence, I write from personal experience, and my personal experience has a lot of threads and they often criss-cross. These essays are threads in the broad tapestry of my mind.

For now, I will be posting the same way I have on Facebook over the years: as current events inspire me. I welcome you- whether an old Facebook friend or a new friend from ‘the wild’- to subscribe and follow my ideas, thought by thought, and thread by thread.