Grateful for Art.

And mindful reflection.

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Evanston Canal, by the hospital

And quiet.

And breath.

And tears.

And laughter.

And color.

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J and C in Chinatown

And sound.

And eyes that see.

And ears that hear.

And the willingness to work through what I cannot see or hear,

yet,

or maybe ever.

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Safe doesn’t always mean pretty
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Strength from all over the place. Some boundaries too.
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No such thing as trapped. Not really.

Grateful for all that has led me here, right now.

Grateful for you and others on my path who may have caused wounds,

And scabs.

And scars.

And joy.

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My busy head. I have learned to like my head and its committee.

And grateful for my voice and for yours.

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One scar, of many.

This is my heart.

And this is my art.

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When I couldn’t sleep last night, this happened.

And we all have stuff with which to make art.

So grateful.

 

A Love Letter Redux to Juliette

The original letter I wrote to Juliette four years ago can be found here – “For Juliette: A Love Letter You’ll Hate (For Now)”. I write my daughters fairly often, but this one stands out and serves as a sort of unspoken grading tool for how I am doing as a mother. I give myself a “C” grade as a mother, but the important lesson here is that I don’t accept my own “C” grade. I trust the trustworthy people in my life instead. Continue reading “A Love Letter Redux to Juliette”

The trickiest of all technical difficulties

Over the past several weeks, I haven’t published any blog posts, but have authored at least 200 articles in my head. The reviews have been mixed, according to the reviewers who reside in my head.

Continue reading “The trickiest of all technical difficulties”

Cuticles, clouds & creativity to the core

As I was flat ironing my teenage daughter’s hair before school this morning, she acknowledged the “HUGE” growth on my right cheek. I think her words were, “You’re right, Mom. That zit IS HUGE!” She said it as if surprised that my description (for once), was totally accurate and perhaps, even understated. I have lovingly named my blemish, “Mt. Hellonacheek.” Continue reading “Cuticles, clouds & creativity to the core”

The Insomniac’s Dreams

Every so often, I get a wicked bout of insomnia. It used to strike with more frequency when I was younger and not so mellow and low-keyed, but it’s back and with a vengeance. Continue reading “The Insomniac’s Dreams”

The Wrinkle in Working to Fight Aging

I really love getting older. This is absolute truth. I also have this theory that working so very hard to fight aging, ages a person. Pfft.

Continue reading “The Wrinkle in Working to Fight Aging”

A Cleansing Blog on a Gentle Cycle

It’s not a perfect science. It’s a practice.

Each day, and sometimes, minute by minute, it takes a commitment to practice accepting things I simply can’t change. Of course, this is not revolutionary. Most people know at least parts of The Serenity Prayer.

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Every day, and sometimes, every minute.

Every so often, people question why in the hell I open myself up on this blog and on social media streams. Some individuals are critical of what they perceive as my being fully transparent. I respect their opinions and usually, if they’re interested, I share more about how helping others is exactly why I do it. I hope it helps them accept what I do, but it may not change their opinions and that’s okay. It still doesn’t change who I am.

There are countries I’ve never heard of who read this blog and thank me for it. If I help someone…ANYONE, this is worthwhile.

My hope is that you and others feel less shame and get okay with your own mishegas. I pray you accumulate moments of peace, love and happiness in your life. I have moments and am grateful for every single one of them. Some of my moments get widely published and they are sometimes hilarious. Especially the ones with my daughters. THIS is joy, pure and simple.

If you’re shaming yourself or someone else for something you may not understand, I hope YOU are open to learning that you are capable of loving someone and accepting them as they are, right now, in their imperfect form. You may not understand why they are the way they are, but do you really have to?

I have faith and hope in people. I believe that people can be better. I have spent years experiencing and examining communication and the impact of shame. My on-the-job training and its associated studies, have proven that loving communication opens the path to the release of shame, with access to the location of joy.

It’s not a perfect science. It’s a practice.


I wear mismatched socks sometimes, because you know, laundry madness. C’mon. We all suffer from the laundry madness of single sock disappearance. In the scheme of a challenged history and even a difficult “here and now,” I embrace my new fashion sense.sox

I really hate doing laundry, especially when I have a headache. On some level, I’ve had a headache for about six months. This is not an exaggeration. Doing laundry and other cleaning chores makes my head worse.

So, to my right, there’s a big pile of laundry that has to be done. There are single socks everywhere, towels, everyday clothes and delicate lingerie that needs to be in a lingerie bag and washed on the gentle cycle.

Just for today, I have one load of laundry in me. Today, everything will be done on the gentle cycle.

The content I post on this blog and on social media is also communicated on a gentle cycle. It gently rocks as it moves. It’s not the ultra power pressure washing of the nitty gritty stories of trauma, post traumatic stress disorder, cancer or addiction. It’s gingerly and carefully relayed here and other places, for you and for me.

So, here I am. My head hurts and I’m off to do my one load of laundry on the gentle cycle. The more detailed version of my stuff’s history and how I practice/d hard to get comfy in my skin, will be included in the book I’ve started writing.

I’m embarrassed and almost ashamed to even state that I’m writing a book. I’ve written lots of books actually, and still, I can hardly call myself a writer.

Like I said – I have a commitment to practice. I practice and practice, but am far from perfect. It’s the commitment to practice that provides the moments of joy.

Today, I have the forethought to choose the gentle cycle for my clothes and for me.

I wish you tender loving gentleness today, even if you’re power washing. May we all have the wisdom to know the difference.