“It’s unbelievable how many ppl carry this around with them and then all of the sudden come out with – I was sexually abused as a kid. They go their whole life, carrying it around and never say anything”. Continue reading “Shhhhhh”
OH on a Sunday morning. Warmed by the Spring sun, greeted by a worn out Winter smile. I aspire to relax into each hour. Making the most of the present moment. Recalling how I’ve crawled up the backside of a landfill to create space. Enough space in my life to let the warm sun IN to thaw my soul. Sunday restores the depleted/empty caverns carved by a less than satisfying week. A less than satisfying life. Our positive reserves may have run dry, our good intentions steam rolled.
Sunday’s are meant for replenishment, for celebration. Pregnant with possibilities, resetting intentions. We remember that everything works out, falls into place, everything. Clearing, cleansing minds for the coming week. Beginning anew. The privilege of a clean slate, a refresh. In deepest gratitude, Sunday.
I love seeing and hearing birdz. Birdz are never worried, depressed, in a rush, judgemental, unmotivated, negative Nancys or Douggie downers. Continue reading “Birdz”
Per-fect-shun-is-ummmm. Hmmm, shunning the perfect, the pressure, warped sense of acceptable. No more reliving what we’ve been taught. Release the grip on the torch we’ve carried to keep ourselves in check and appear flawless. Allow the cracks to happen…how else will the light get in?
Only write the pretty things. Speak in pretty tones, pretty word choice. Somehow REAL is no longer cool. Intolerable. Honesty must be extinguished, slaughtered alongside her sister, authenticity. Continue reading “Only Pretty Allowed Here”
Getting to know more of my darkness this very long week. Wishing that time would fly, wishing myself out of situations, moments, wishing to be somewhere else, wishing to be different than I am. Continue reading “Hotel PRESENCE”
Prepare for the worst, second guessing what will happen, what others will say/do. When I find myself caught up in the worry about a situation… yes, these old patterns still linger.
Continue reading “Old Patterns Up For Grabs…”