Introspection
Salt Lake City Temple
It was strange, returning to that personal mecca. It was here that I had made pilgrimages throughout high school and college, where I had implored God for strength and guidance. Now, even as someone unable to enter beyond its foyer, I found myself praying.
summer away from home introspections
Six writers each reflect on their summers, looking back on the new routines they made across the globe — and the personal growth that came with it.
Nafplio, Greece
And there were moments I wanted to keep for myself, like walking the paths of ancients in Mycenae, floating in water so salty I barely had to tread to stay afloat, discovering hidden beaches populated by cats along cliffside trails.
Gabarone, Botswana
Living in Botswana was watching moonrises and mixing up sample IDs and learning to say hi to strangers on the street.
Los Angeles, California
I miss lazy afternoons sunbathing alongside two Great Danes and one little mutt.
A Summer Far From Home
I thought maybe this was just it. About how after graduation, we’re left with the rest of life — running through these days, decisions unserious and significant, one after another, guessing, astonished and grateful for the world.
Teenage Dream
When I was a preteen, Rookie fueled the daydreams that I had about my incoming teenage years. I imagined warm parties, memorable misadventures, my picture-worthy prom dress. Not something perfect, but something precious that I could only access in the years between 12 and 20.
Paraphernalia of Love
This year, I’ve found that my relationship with the past has gradually changed; that its pull, while still tender, has become primarily sharp and painful. I’ve found myself not just indulging in these trips down memory lane, but wishing I could stay in them forever.
Memories of a City I’ve Never Known
Where we were was the gated avenues and green-grassed gardens of Johannesburg’s northern suburbs; where we weren’t was South Africa.
Dear Sophomore Year Cover
One year after publishing “Dear Freshman Year,” MG returns to write a letter to her sophomore year.
DSY Mug
What’s left after loss is not nothing. What’s left after loss is love. (And his favorite mug.)
