The Sun is Still There

Did you know dear reader, that regardless of how dark the skies may appear sometimes, buried under thick clouds, the sun is still shining. It’s easy to forget that. Its easy to forget most anything we can’t readily see with our eyes. And yet our eyes are so terribly deceiving. 

We tend to only see what we expect to see. And depending upon how we feel, the lens through which we view the world gets shaped. So, imagine if you will, that you are not in a good place emotionally. Your world will represent that. There is no other way. Your lens has grown narrow.

There are two things going on: one, of course, is the half full half empty perception. That lovely trap where instead of seeing our glass as half full – we view it as half empty instead. Its easy enough to do. Humans are so flawed when it comes to certain things. Appreciation being one of them. Instead of seeing what we have, we see only lack. Quite quickly, that energy becomes us. We vibrate lack. We see only lack. If someone were to place a feast before us, or friends around us, we would only see the things that are missing. Life gives us our vibrational match. It works no other way.

The other thing that sometimes happens is, life has beaten us down to the point where our skies are dark. Something is moving through. We keep trying to see the sun, but can’t. And its not from a lack of trying. Its just in the moment, things are rough. Life gets rough. So if you are going through that right now, my sweet, dear reader, I want you to know – it will pass. And during that darkness, know this: the sun is still in its place. It’s still shining. It hasn’t gone anywhere. Those clouds are temporary. This moment, this situation is temporary. Hang on. Dig deep. Breathe. Take comfort knowing that as quickly as those clouds entered, they will leave.

Take this moment to nurture yourself. Find the light within you. Go deep. Get still. Repeat: this too shall pass. Because it will. And remember, the sun is still shining. Like everything, this moment is just temporary. Don’t be afraid to look out with a wide angle, even when its dark.

Love to you.

S.

The Stories We Tell

Lately I’ve been thinking about the stories we tell. The ones we tell others. The ones we tell ourselves. We do it so naturally we aren’t even aware. And yet the stories we share reveal the frame through which we view our life; our past and possible future. 

The truth is, we aren’t the stories we tell. We aren’t our past. We aren’t what has been to us or what we have done to others. We aren’t our occupation, or lack thereof. We aren’t defined by numbers; our zip code, bank balance, years of life or size. We aren’t any of these things. We are, however, how we view these things. Often its the very stories we tell that keeps us from living the life we desire. If everything possesses energy, and we know it does. Then when we tell stories that no longer honor us, we keep ourselves in bondage to what was. A place we don’t want to be. Maybe its where we once were. But that was then. This is now.

Our story is for us to write. And every day we are granted a blank page. Each of us is here with purpose, with something to contribute. Granted, many don’t know it. So let me share what I feel it is.

We are joy. We are meant to feel joy. We are love. We are meant to feel love. We are meant to rise above limited understandings and narrowly framed beliefs. We’re here to see those around us; and to do so with compassion. We are here to smile broadly and feel deeply. To stand in our truth and understand how we got where we are. No blame. No shame. Then move ahead. Always moving. Always crafting an ever evolving storyline that fits our designed narrative.

Today I am not who I was yesterday. Not really. Close. But not exact. Today I choose to see myself in a better light. I choose to make more time to find my joy. And if I fall short, I’ll start fresh tomorrow. I am the author of my life. And if I don’t like how its reading, I change it. I am not meant to hand over my power or pen. I am not meant to let those around me decide my worth. Instead, I am to find it myself. I fail often. But I’m getting better. I keep changing and moving forward until I notice that I’m smiling more, I laugh easier. And when I see those around me I know they too are on their own journey, at their own rate, on their own level. It’s not for me to judge. I’m not to look down. I’m not to put them up high. I stay in my lane and work on me. Love myself. Love my neighbor. Fail. Start over. Fail less. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

These are the chapters I’ve been scripting as of late. Its the perfect time to decide who you are. Every day is. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, dear reader. But I’ve also gotten a lot of things right. I can’t say I would do a lot differently, as I really enjoy how all those ups and downs have created the person typing these words. I am not my past. I am me. An ever evolving soul who wants you to know that you are what you decide. Decide well. You are worth it.

Sane

Creatively Speaking

There’s something I want to say, but for the life of me, and regardless of how long I sit here, I’m still unsure what it is. It’s an absolutely frustrating-to-the-core feeling. One thing’s for sure, being a Creative, isn’t easy. 

When I was young that word wasn’t used that way. When I was going through my formative years, ripe with possibility, I had no clue who I was or what I should or could possibly do. It took all I had to manage my every day life. And school was no help. Sadly, I hear this is often still the case. Please know, if you were or are aimless or unsure your place, you are not alone.

I grew up in a town so small it took two minutes to drive from one end to the other. It was beautiful. And still is. But small. And unless you excelled in math, science or football, well… you were invisible. You had to find your own way. And I did. Many years later. 

Being a Creative, as it’s now termed, isn’t an easy path. In fact, its profoundly irksome. Just as much, its profoundly rewarding. But it’s also who you are so to do otherwise is akin to repeatedly shoving your foot into a shoe that’s two times too small. It won’t work. Many do it, of course; resigning themselves to a life that never feels right. Life is all about feeling to me. And I’ve spent many years living a life that didn’t feel right. It’s a slow death that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. 

I used to dream of being a writer. Spinning captivating stories. Most likely with a decanter of expensive Scotch perched beside me, slowly slipping into giddy madness. I never did live out that fantasy. And I still don’t like Scotch. But my idea was based on a limited concept. I only knew what I knew. And my education never bothered to show me how to utilize my very individualized skills. I spent much of my early years feeling as though I was somehow spectacularly unintelligent as I had no interest in much of what was being taught. Aside from one or two classes that left an indelible impression, the rest was a bore. But it wasn’t because of my lack. It was because it wasn’t meant for me. 

Life is about finding our way, discovering who we are and what fills us with passion. Even if that passion is mild and calm or wild and enthralling. It doesn’t matter. It’s our passion, our definition. For many of us, we unwittingly forfeit our first couple of decades before we stumble into discovering our niche and place in the world. School should be a time of discovery, not rote. I don’t give a flying flip about formulas, unless it’s the formula for happiness and self exploration. Because those formulas are necessary to us all.

I’m sitting here on a leisurely afternoon, surrounded by flowers with soft music playing in the warm breeze, grateful for this life of mine. But it shouldn’t take decades to find one’s place. So whether you are young or old, and feel lost and wondering your place, don’t despair. If I can do it, so can you. And if people seem wildly unhappy out there in the world, it’s because they are. There are a lot of people living a life that feels like an ill-fitting shoe, wishing for something better. 

If I were to create the world. I would spend a lot more time cultivating one’s ability to think creatively and critically. I would make sure they knew they were smart. It takes strength to find your way. I’d make sure they knew they had that strength. And if they decided they wanted to live the life of a Creative I’d warn them that it won’t be easy. There will be days when the desire sits like an itch. But also too, there will be days when they click the final key, make their final brush stroke, design the final piece or make their final edit, and it will feel so deeply gratifying. Either way, which ever path, I’d make sure they know to live it fully.; unabashed. Embraced. I wish someone had taken the time to tell me that. Well dear reader, at least I’m here to tell you. 

Sane

Just An Observation

Hedy Lamarr, 1940s

I’ve been an observer all my life. Often it feels like there’s a thin veil that separates me from the real world. Through this veil though, I can see more clearly than those who are standing on the other side. It has been the single best thing about being me, and the single worst. Its made me feel like an outsider, and yet, on a broader scale, it’s allowed me to feel more in touch with the world; to see beyond the illusion of day to day life. A true double-edged sword.

Today while walking back from the market, my sack filled with the essentials: salsa, craft beer and Panda Puff cereal, I noticed the vibrancy of the grass, I breathed deep the smell of green. I watched a Monarch butterfly flit across my path. I noticed the root that poked itself precariously above the sandy ground, and wondered to which tree it belonged. And upon entering my home I smelled the fresh cucumbers resting on the counter, and was instantly transported to when I was young, and our home smelled of cucumbers and my mom’s fried chicken. No one knew how to fill a house with the smell of good food better than my mother. 

My life has been spent in observation. It’s made me a better writer; noticing the nuances help to paint a better picture. The way Radio Shack tech smelled. The peculiar cool chill that used to fill the air on a July 4th night in northern Michigan while waiting for fireworks to light the sky. The way a friends’ face lights up when they see you arrive. The way people often move like ants in a busy downtown. The comforting sound of an airplane flying in the distance.

I also have, and do, observe things that make my heart ache. We all have. Some feel it deeper. But, we all feel it. My youth was filled with things I didn’t want to observe. Feelings I didn’t want to feel. Many of those things have taken decades to unwind. But also too, they’ve helped me to develop a part of myself, an emotional muscle that has allowed me to go deeper – even during the worst of it. When I think back to an alcoholic father, I could see solely what rested on the surface. Please know, the surface provided more than enough to absorb. But, with time, I’ve come to see the man behind those eyes. The one that only wanted peace. I loved that man. He was a good human.

My son is a cancer survivor. There were moments, the residual of which, I still feel to this day like the light stickiness of humidity on a hot day. But also too, I remember his first words after brain surgery. I remember how the high arch of his eyebrow when listening intently remained even when he had to practice walking again. I remember too, how the birds chirped outside the hospital even when I didn’t know if he would live.

Life is tricky. It’s filled with everything, always. The true dichotomy of human existence. The good, the bad and everything in between. I used to rail against God for having ushered onto my existence so much bad. When your world crumbles, it’s hard not to. And yet, once the dust settled, the Universe spoke – as it always does – and it was shown to me that there was something else for me to see. I can’t say I always liked what I had to see. I didn’t always understand what I had to see. But I knew enough to allow in a different interpretation. And within that, I found peace. 

On that note dear reader, I want to say, that it is my deepest hope and intent, that you find peace with whatever it is that you see. And if you don’t, if you can’t, give it time. Look away for awhile. Notice the butterfly. Notice the green. Sometimes Life speaks to us only when we stop looking at what’s in front of us.

Sane

Expectations

There’s something magical about four leaf clovers. The finding of one. Knowing its a sign of luck. My lawn is covered with clovers, with their pretty three leaves standing tall. I was told that my aunt found a four leaf clover when she was young. I never forgot that. And over the years wondered if there was some truth behind the good fortune they bring as she sure seemed to be the one who landed a disproportionate amount compared to her only sibling, my father.

I, in all my fifty plus years, had never found a four leaf clover. I’ll be honest. I stopped looking. It was almost more deflating to look and not find one versus not to look at all. 

But my daughter shared something simple with me. And it completely changed my view of four leaf clovers. Well, I can’t say my view of clovers changed, but my view regarding finding them did.

Sometimes spiritual truths lurk in the most unexpected of places. Such as TikTok. Some wonderful soul shared with the world the fact that within the space of, oh a few feet, you’ll always find a four leaf clover. I wasn’t sure if such a thing could be true.

It was. 

Since then we’ve gone on to find numerous four leaf clovers, and occasionally a five leaf clover.  I now collect them and press them within the pages of a vintage book on word origins. Also too, I now linger in my lawn running my hand across the clovers, knowing I will find one with four leaves tucked somewhere. Sometimes in plain view. Sometimes hidden.

But they were there all along. I’m the one who expected otherwise. And I’m only certain of it now because I go into it knowing. I know I will find one. I venture out expecting it. And that is the spiritual truth that shapes much of our life – our expectation of it. I had to sigh at myself once I noticed the parallel. I will never stop learning. And for that I’m grateful. Sometimes, dear reader, I shake my head at myself. Its so easy to get caught within our stories, our certainties. And sadly, more often than not, they lean toward the negative. Which is a travesty and generally leads to a self fulfilled prophecy.

Most of us base our expectations based on our history. Historically I’ve never found a four leaf clover, therefore, I know it is nearly impossible. Or, historically if I linger long enough, I know I will find one. This is how we approach life, every day. This is often too, how we approach our future. 

Early on our expectations are formed by those around us. And of course, their life often unfolded according to their beliefs and expectations. It gets imbedded in us before we even know how to articulate what we are seeing; not to mention, understand it for what it is. Life equals expectations. Please know that this goes much deeper than just surface expectations. Sometimes the surface is only part of the picture. We need to understand our deeper beliefs. Our value, what we feel we are worth. It’s amazing how that will form our expectations as we move throughout our day.

I will end with these two simple truths. First, share what you learn. Had my daughter not shared that little video with me, I still would be holding a belief that, now, I’ve completely transformed. And two, expect good things. Know that everything is working out. It makes the natural ups and downs of life easier when you know that on a grander scale, everything is okay, and that better days are coming – perhaps hidden from view at the moment, but they are there and soon you’ll see them.

Sane

Sitting in the Shade

Sitting in the Shade

I can’t imagine what I could possibly say after the year we’ve had. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad for some. But if you are one of the watchers, the seekers, those who are here to do more than wake and sleep – it was a bit rough. 

Sometimes I look at those who seem to be without much sensitivity, and wonder what it would be like to live through their eyes. Truthfully, they don’t seem all that happy. More often than not they seem to find their joy through force. Dominance. I can’t imagine living that way. I’d like to think my soul has seen those days and is here to occupy a different lane. 

I always say that when I fly above, things through my spiritual eyes becomes clearer. Lately, I’ve had to stay in the air more than usual. It’s the only thing that’s kept me grounded. That may sound like a contradiction, but to me, it’s not. I’ve never fit in. Why would I now, while the world around me is growing more divided by the hour. 

Division feels like stepping back. And not in a good way. Not to get a better look. More like, a step backward in our evolution. And it makes my soul ache. So instead, I look to nature. I find my center by walking among the trees. They’ve seen it all. They’ve watched mankind achieve greatness and great acts of destruction. To me, trees have a soul that is wiser than most. They’d have to. To agree to be here for such a long haul takes enormous strength. I can’t imagine having that kind of commitment toward mankind.

Don’t get me wrong, dear reader. I love my fellow man. I just can’t say I feel all that connected at the moment, though. I’m working hard to find the umbrella seekers. Those who can find the good in all things; the hidden gems within the most mundane and most chaotic. Acts of kindness are everywhere. I still believe that. 

Kindness is a state of being. It’s who you are. Either you are kind or you are not. It’s not connected to a doctrine that mandates it. It isn’t an act to be done in front of others. It’s like the tree that just – is. The tree doesn’t know how not to provide shade. It’s up to us to sit under it. But whether we show up or not, it doesn’t change the actions of the tree. 

I feel at home among the trees and the water and moon. I often don’t among others. People are unpredictable. Nature, is steady. And it’s held me steady over this last year. But in my moments sitting with the waves or the moon or walking amongst the trees, I do reflect on those who have shown kindness over this last year. I have to believe, they’re still showing the same strength of kindness now. And will be for years to come. Because it’s who they are. Out of such hardship and horrific behavior, we’ve been shown the dichotomy; what rests at the other end of the spectrum. Those are my people.

Little do they know, a little writer who lives up in the woods and water of Northern Michigan sees them, offers them blessings and energy from miles away. Like the shade of a tree, I hope they feel the kindness I’m offering. 

To all my umbrella seekers and nature lovers, I see you.

Sane

When Pushed

I used to think I was a nice person. Now, I take it day by day. I was once told by someone that I was the kindest person they’d ever known. Words that warmed my heart. But part of me questioned whether it was accurate. I know the thoughts I think, and I have to say they aren’t always kind. In the moment, when confronted with the worst in mankind, I want to rage against the ignorance, the racism, the bigotry, the vile behavior. But more often than not, I step back long enough to allow the soft voice of Spirit to remind me that those ways are not in line with who I am. 

There are times when the kindest thing I can do is say nothing. And on days when I’m feeling particularly strong, I offer a silent blessing. But that isn’t all of who I am. I’m also the person who has, on more than one occasion, buzzed open her sunroof and extended a middle finger. I wish I could say it didn’t feel as good as it did. But dear reader I’ve never lied to you about who I am. I’m a human who is just trying to be the best she can be, regardless of what is before me. I’m a feisty rebel wrapped inside of a thoughtful, spiritually driven soul. At times the two are at odds. At other times, they are linked.

I think we’re all feeling pushed. But these aren’t end times. More like, the Universe wants us to finally get honest about who we are. So. We’re pushed to the point where our authentic self emerges. And either what emerges is someone we feel good with or we don’t. Either way, we need to know. We need to come face to face with our true self. When lost at sea, we can either stay adrift and misguided, or we can figure out where we are using the stars above. Once we know that, we can begin to navigate our way forward.

Who shows up in me when I have no clue how I will sustain a business crippled by store closings. Who shows up when my expenses outweigh what’s trickling in. Who shows up when someone I don’t know is in need. Who shows up when I’m standing shoulder to shoulder with someone who believes completely different than me. Who shows up when my mind can’t stop in the middle of the night, or when the news only shows the worst of humanity railing against people they don’t even know. Who shows up in me when it seems as though our world has turned upside down.

I don’t really care how one behaves when the sun is shining and there are ample funds to go around; times of excess. I want to know who shows up when people feel threatened; when money is tight and the future is uncertain. What matters to me is who pushes others out of the life raft and who extends a hand to pull them in. Those who are kind in those moments are my people. Those who would give from what they have, when what they have is little. Those who encourage inclusiveness and equality. My soul is paying special attention during this unique time. But not just of others – of me. In every moment I have the opportunity to be my best self, or my worst. And dear reader, I’m giving it my all. 

It takes strength to be kind. Don’t get discouraged because you get tired. Just notice what it’s bringing out in you – and those around you.

Sane

Thank you

From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Never before has it been so apparent to tell those who give a damn from those who don’t. It’s as though the Universe lifted the veil making it easy to identify who gives a flying fuck about others from those who don’t. And to those who care about me, thank you.

Dear reader, when you wear a mask to prevent possibly spreading a virus onto others, you are telling me you give a damn about me. And for that, I thank you. To you, this post is written. To the rest of you, go fuck your self righteous selves. I’m tired of you and you’re higher than thou excuses for your behavior. As a writer it pains me to admit this, but actions speak louder than words. Check yourselves. Check your actions. Look in the mirror and ask yourself why you believe you matter more than anyone else. You don’t.

I’m madder than hell with those who use words to mask their incredible insensitivities toward humanity. Fuck you.

Dear reader, I write this blog to remind us that we aren’t alone. It’s super easy right now to feel alone. But you’re not. You are surrounded by exceptional people. You may not know their names. You may never share a hug with them. But they are there, and their numbers are great. So, moving forward, I want everyone to let their gaze fall upon those who have taken that outward step to protect you. Their actions are true to Source. All That Is, is Love. Love gives a damn. Love reaches further to help others. Love protects. And that is what wearing a mask does – it protects others. And there is no greater outward sign of love than that. 

I don’t know how well my heart would handle coming down with this particular virus. Without going into too much detail, I don’t think it would do all that well. So to those who choose to protect me, thank you. You don’t know that about me when you walk past me. Which makes it all the more impactful. It’s caring for the sake of caring.

Dear reader, the Universe is watching and responding. What you are doing, as simple of an act as it is, represents who you are. And who you are is someone who doesn’t want to risk harming anyone; one of the most basic tenets of love. That’s why I wear one. Even though I feel like I’m suffocating while wearing it, I do it. I do it to protect you. Is it bothersome, yes. Yes, it is. So is driving the speed limit or staying in my lane. But I do it. Because if I didn’t, who knows the wake of damage I’d leave behind me. Miles ahead I may be fine, but those I left behind might not be. 

Ugliness is magnified right now. But, I want you to look for the caretakers, the peacemakers, the mask wearers. Those who are showing up with love as their guide. At first you may not see them, they aren’t thumping their chests loudly. They aren’t acting as if the world revolves around them. But they are there. I want you to look for them. Notice them.

Love is kind. Love helps. Love encourages and uplifts. Love is inclusive. Love unites. Love gives a damn about those around them.

And if my bluntness offends anyone, I do not apologize. Because there are no other words that embody the true intent of what I want to express here, other than the ones I have chosen. I feel good with them. My compass is still pointing true north. 

Sane

Bleeding Heart Liberal

A lover of mine once called me a bleeding heart liberal. Perhaps he thought he was being coy. I thought he was being an ass. Am I a bleeding heart liberal – yes. I suppose I am. If it means I think a bit more about the welfare of others and a bit less about dominating others, then please feel free to add it to my epitaph.

What I find interesting is how often people toss around that label, bleeding heart, thinking it’s recipient is passive. Somehow less than. Perhaps even weak. I can assure you, it takes great strength to share. It takes courage to think beyond one’s self. Selfishness is easy.  Caring – that takes strength. 

So what is a bleeding heart liberal? Or at least, who is this bleeding heart liberal writing to you now? Well, dear reader, I’m not what certain media outlets and FaceBook post-bots would lead you to believe. I am a person who cares. I care about you. I care about your dreams. I care about your fears. I want you to flourish. I want you to feel secure. Not from false promises, but because you truly are.

So here’s the rub, I want that for you regardless of your color, your age, your sexual orientation, your nationality, your family structure or your mailing address zip code. Yes, there are those out there who only want those who live near them to flourish. That’s not me. I also don’t care your level of education. Most likely, many of you will far surpass that of my own. I don’t care. I have nothing to prove by dominating anyone. I don’t need to surpass anyone to feel better about who I am. Life isn’t a contest. I know who I am. And if this is what a bleeding heart liberal is, then I feel I’ve accomplished what I came into this life to accomplish. Because what it all comes down to is one thing, and one thing alone – love. And if loving you, without knowing you means my heart bleeds, then let it bleed. 

Things might feel a bit scary for some of you as of late. Anger is swirling. Division is heightened. Hell, even I feel divided. Following in the footsteps of the first bleeding heart, I too, am ready to flip some tables. 

I want you to know I’m here. With my compass still held steady. Enduring the bad days along with you. But always taking the time to step back and make sure who I am, who in me that’s showing up is still someone I feel good with. Oh, and that lover? I’m sure it’s obvious to you, dear reader, he didn’t even know me. All I can do is bless him and hope when he sits in church he starts to think of others. Kind of like Jesus, and that beautiful, glorious bleeding heart of His.

Sane

Photo Credit: Anke-Eve Goldmann is a European legend. Born in Germany on November 27, 1930, Anke-Eve defied the trends of her day and age, since she devoted so much of her life to motorcycles. Found at https://blackarrowlabel.com/blogs/journal/game-changer-1-anke-eve-goldmann

By Comparison

Good morning, dear reader. And welcome to a new day. I hope it feels better than the day before. I hope for all of us that our troubles are few and our worries are light. I pray that the challenges we face come with clarity as to why they are present in our life. I pray that love finds us wherever we go. And that laughter is never far away.

As much as there are challenges in this world. Things that can pummel us repeatedly, or body slam us out of the clear blue, there are also those hidden umbrellas I spoke of earlier. Little bits of goodness tucked amidst the turbulence. And what I want for all of us is that we are able to keep redirecting our focus, our thoughts and our energy onto those little bits of goodness. It is breathtaking how quickly we can get swept up in the hardships; our own, those of others, those of the world. The media doesn’t exactly help with that. More money is made through fear. Fear of death. Fear of aging. Fear of illness. Fear of poverty. Repeatedly showing us how bad things are. 

And I’d be lying if I said that while focusing on the good bad won’t still happen. It does. And it hurts like hell. But what is the alternative. I do firmly believe that what we think about we bring about. That there is a vibrational pull that draws unto us that which we are. So if we are in a state of appreciation, more things that match that state will appear. The reverse is also true. And that’s the rub. That is the challenge of living in a world of duality. The bad is always there. If not in plain view, its very likely hiding in the shadows. But the same is true for the good. 

I woke having received an order from a kind woman who recently opened a boutique. A week before her grand opening her brother died in an accident. He helped remodel her boutique. Now she has to try to find the goodness within all that pain. And yet, here she is, buying empowerment clothing. Messages of hope and love, from a person with a very wounded heart. And that’s grace.

Grace is in being authentic about where we are at any given time. Not just when everything in life is lined up perfectly. Not just when our first thoughts are of the highest variety. No, it’s in being aware of it all, even our shortcomings and bugaboos, and loving ourselves just the same. 

I try not to judge any situation, because as soon as I do I feel the restriction within myself. I try not to compare myself to others because as soon as I do I hand over my power; the power that says, I’m okay just as I am. I’m right on track. And it’s up to me to decide what that means. I try not to measure myself against anyone. For as soon as I do I’m judging even my accomplishments; which can be the start down a very slippery slope. I try also not to compare even my complaints, because there is always someone who has it worse. If I need to whine, I need a moment to whine.

Sometimes I wonder why on earth I’m doing what I’m doing. For heaven’s sake, dear reader, I’m not a spring chicken. And the money I’m pouring into this business surely has other places it could go. And then the Universe shows me this one woman, and I get to hear her story. And I think, okay. I get it. I’m right where I need to be doing what I need to be doing. My transparency is bringing a bit of comfort to someone. Oddly enough, just knowing that, brings comfort to me. 

And anyway, usually when I’m feeling my worst, I’m granted something purely special. A glimpse into humanity at its best. A hug from my son solely because he knew my heart was heavy. Even though his was, perhaps, heavier. Grace. 

Sane

PS I have no idea how long this little stretch of writing will last. But I’m going to enjoy it while it does. It is my intent that it offers you something positive. A get out of jail free card from being too hard on yourself. A reminder that you’re not alone. It doesn’t matter to me, as long as it aides you in your journey.