on. A Collection of Stories by Mark Leary

When you look back on your life, can you see how all the years fit together?

I couldn't. And that felt like a problem.

I couldn’t see a throughline, something that connected little me to big me.

And if I couldn’t see a throughline, what else was I missing?

I wondered whether I was living as fully as I could or was I just letting time pass me by.

So, I began the task of excavating my past in order to make better sense of my present.

And that started by asking the questions I’ve always wondered about.

Instagram offered a fertile place for me to do the work.

Story by story, memory by memory, and question by question, I started finding bits and pieces of me tucked in here and there in my history.

But I found something more: you.

And you found me.

And together, we discovered that we all have a lot in common … when we look closely enough at our shared stories.

Over this past year, many of you have encouraged me to gather up these stories and share them in a book.

So, with the inspiration of book-writing friends like Lisa Congdon and in the spirit of folks like Yung Pueblo, Chip Conley, and Brené Brown who are so committed to scratching below the surface of everyday experiences, my book on. was born.

And I’m so excited (and suitably nervous) to share it with you.

You can pre-order your signed copy here.

My hope is that, in reading this book (a collection of a 173 "essayettes" or short stories), you'll also find a piece (or many) of your self and your own story here; that you'll find a safe place to reflect on who you are, learning how the pieces of your own life fit together to form a whole; and a space to consider what a life lived with more grace, and more self-compassion, and little more tenderness might look like.

Thank you for being you, and for helping me create a space filled with such love and care. I couldn’t be more grateful.

Oh, I’ve been asked why I chose the title “on.” A quick look at any of my posts will answer that question in a heartbeat 😊

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Leaves, Moments, and Standing in the Sunlight

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Apples, Auditoriums, and Avoiding Our Bruises