Nevertheless, sometimes I fail to see my own signs. Signs that shout “Karen, slow down” or “Stop obsessing”.
It’s an interesting temporary organism says man walking on Wacker Drive on Wednesday morning.
By not expressing who we are through what we wear, we aren’t revealing our true self.
We sugarcoat so much in life that when we are honest the veil is removed and we nor our subject may like what is revealed.
An exchange yesterday triggered a comical memory. It happened when my colleague and I interviewed a candidate for a new member of our team and she asked the candidate an interesting…
“If we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything is ready, we shall never begin.”Ivan Turgenev
I decided before I even went to sleep what I would write this morning. Though I have listened to the song a hundred times, it struck a chord. “I never thought I could fail”.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Her mother was supposed to be with him, but he drove her away for years. And this year she finally left. Sad and heartbroken,…
I also found a hummingbird this weekend at a family gathering, that I was lucky enough to capture on film. The discovery of which prompted a family member to tell me that the tiny bird’s presence represents my Grandma Burns, which I loved hearing. Both the conversation on the train and the hummingbird are reminders that when we look and listen for life’s gifts they are aplenty.
Venturing out into the digital dating world means we all come from a place of vulnerability. But, being vulnerable doesn’t mean you can’t be confident.
July is a month of metamorphosis. We move to our next best iteration. I find that transition occurs best when we are present; living a life that revels in the here and now, is open to what’s next, and avoids the rabbit holes of what if’s that force us to sacrifice our authentic selves for the fakers, cheaters, and liars.
Of course, there are a few things missing, from turning on the radio to peeing and trips out to the trash, but that is pretty close to what I expected and intended my Saturday to be.
So, “it’s like trying to grab hold of fog” …
“You aren’t stuck on this,” she said.
Because she was a child once too.
But I do know that being open to the change, wanting and welcoming that change, was my invitation to the world that I was ready to bring life into our universe.
When Bridget and I talk about conflict and how to resolve it, I regularly come back to the mantra of “do everything with kindness”. Positioning ourselves from the corner of kindness, rights our intention.
Had you slept beside me, I’m absolutely positive you would have heard me laughing in my sleep.
“I’m rubber you’re glue, whatever you say, bounces off of me and sticks to you.”
Milestones are ours to make, define, and delineate which are meaningful and meaningless. Mystery riddles most milestones, many of which we never unearth.
It took me a while to claim this room, this space. And I wonder why it took so long? Because time heals all wounds. That’s the mystery of love.
Why is that? Because we are afraid to write it. Afraid to be vulnerable again, and to possibly be open to rejection, again. It’s a worn out tawdry paperback, even Goodwill won’t accept.
The truth is, the finish line snuck up on me. November 1 seems like yesterday. I woke up like any other morning, but it wasn’t. I made commitments. And I’ve made good on them, some I even doubled down.
We can dress up these offenders, teach them how to write a story and convince the world that they are really good people. And externally they may appear so. But you can’t hire a pr-consultant to paint you as a respectable human being when inside you are not.
There is nothing selfish by withholding our own light from leeches. You can’t enjoy life when others suck the life right of you!
First I noticed the color where there should not have been any. I picked it up and the evidence was littered inside its belly. Flecks of dark red. Sulfites. They landed at its bottom. It was placed inside the box, hidden from my view, yet frozen in time.
At face value, when I read this step some months ago, I thought, yep, I did that. This week I remembered why and how and where I was when I took this step. And why the first step is always the hardest.
I felt like I was fire dancing between earth and water, grounded nowhere, fueled by both, and extinguished inside.
That’s a big step! It requires honesty, humility, vulnerability and everything else in between. When we are in crisis we viscerally tamp down all of those things, every moment of the day to carry on a life with the appearance that we have our shit together.
I remember living like that many times throughout my life. Worries and fears stood tall and proud at forefront of my mind and tongue. Chronic anxiety resulted, evidence of the illness was seen in my entire physical and emotional state that I allowed to be hijacked by worry that was born out of fear. Xanax helped quell it, but it didn’t stop it.
No, it wasn’t the ending that was caused my grief, it was the beginning that I mourned.