Here’s to the Dark Bits

Image credit: www.tbquk.org

Image credit: http://www.tbquk.org

For some time now I’ve been questioning my path and wondering what’s next. The old ideals stopped making sense somewhere along the way. Belief structures quit resonating. The foundation started to crack, then crumble, then fall away completely.

In short, I don’t know what’s true for me anymore.

I scratched and clawed to find something—anything—to hold onto so I could feel safe again. But there wasn’t anything. It was as if I was floating in the ocean with nothing and no one in sight. Which direction do you swim when you don’t know where land is?

Alone, in the dark, I just had to wait. Fuck.

I’ve wanted to write about where I’m at, but I didn’t know how to explain what was going on. I still don’t. I’ve felt this general sense of malaise. This total lack of motivation. This utter directionlessness. Just blah. I haven’t felt particularly turned on by anything. I have felt alone, but didn’t necessarily want to be around anyone.

I’ve been irritated, annoyed, prickly. I hesitated to write when I felt so pissy. It’s hard to seem enlightened when you feel like shit.

I’ve tried to surrender to this…whatever it is. To not follow that compulsion to put a happy face on it. In the past the happy face was the way to turn around a low mood. Always look for the positive, I would remind myself. And that did help, or so I thought…until it didn’t. But lately it just started to feel a little delusional. Like I was lying to myself.

What’s wrong with admitting something is hard? What’s wrong with being honest with yourself?

I am no stranger to the dark bits. Depression is an old friend of mine. And while it’s just an occasional visitor now, I still fear inviting it in for a long weekend. Partly because I’m afraid it might decide to take up residence again, but also because our social and cultural conditioning leans toward happiness at all costs.

In our uber positive society it’s not acceptable to admit life sucks sometimes. It’s not okay to not only recognize I’m having a hard time, but do nothing to change it. To just ride it out and see where it takes me.

And that’s the part that bothers me. I don’t want to put on a happy face just because it makes you feel better. When I don’t say how I really feel, it’s like I’m being smothered. And honestly, that feels worse than the dark bits ever could.

There’s all kinds of advice about how to feel good when you don’t. Turn that frown upside down, change your attitude, be grateful, get outside, exercise, help others…and on and on it goes. But all that trying to change things insinuates it’s not okay to feel bad, alone, confused, angry.

I used to have a friend who, when I was down, insisted I would feel better if I went out. At first I believed her. I thought there was something wrong with me if I didn’t feel happy…something that needed to be fixed. But after a few evenings of me either crying in a bar or wanting to punch people in the face, I realized this was not the answer.

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with positivity in general. Where I think it can be harmful is when I use positivity to not feel anything uncomfortable. I need to feel bad when I feel bad. Denying that is like rejecting a part of me.

Life is messy and things don’t go according to plan. And sometimes it sucks. But the dark times aren’t just to be tolerated until we can figure out how to be happy again. They should be revered the same way those joyous times are…as just a part of the experience of being human.

I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t know what any of this means. But I’m here. So I’m going to let this be whatever it is…dark, scary, uncertain. There’s still the urge to try to change it so I can feel better, but now there’s an even stronger pull to let it crack everything open. Let it all fall apart and see what comes of the broken pieces.

There comes a time when you can’t sidestep the shadows with positive thoughts anymore. You have to sit in the darkness, the nothingness, the not knowing, without trying to change it. Feel as bad as you feel. And wait. And listen.

I read this quote from the Bruce Cockburn song, Pacing the Cage in Sonja Alarr’s blog and it sums things up perfectly for me. “Sometimes the best map will not guide you. You can’t see what’s ‘round the bend. Sometimes the road leads through dark places. Sometimes the darkness is your friend.”

Here’s to the dark bits…may we welcome them with open arms.

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

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I Wanted This to Be Easy

Image credit: happilyalawmama.blogspot.com

Image credit: happilyalawmama.blogspot.com

For years I have said, both to myself and out loud, “I just want to do work I love and am passionate about.” I’ve had more than one job I didn’t like. Those jobs paid the bills, but they sucked the life out of me. And sooner or later I always got to the point of dreading going to work. If you’ve experienced something similar, you know it is not a fun way to live.

I’ve heard of people who just love their work. They say they can’t wait to get up on Monday morning because they’re excited to do what they’re passionate about. I’ve also heard that once you find your passion things will fall into place, doors will open, and it will be easy. Easy! Even Confucius said, “Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life.”

I am a seeker and I searched for my passion with this expectation I mind. When I find ‘it’ things will be easy.

I went to college, got my first office job, worked for a non-profit, became a virtual assistant, worked from home for a commercial roofing company, went back to college, started a health and wellness business, raised money for breast cancer, worked for an event management company, became a life coach. I’ve read more books than I can count and have done copious amounts of personal growth work. That’s what my paid and unpaid “career path” has looked like over the last 20 plus years.  Turns out I am a high school guidance counselor’s worst nightmare!

Along the way I discovered—or rather rediscovered—a passion for writing. After a devastating breakup almost three years ago, I started this blog. Prior to that I noticed I got a lot of positive feedback on the recaps I wrote of my experiences doing the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk. I remembered my favorite thing in elementary school was creative writing. Occasionally I had heard that little whisper…the one that said I should write a book.

I started to realize I express myself better in writing than talking aloud. I am famous for the follow up email. If you’re not familiar with this, the purpose of the follow up email is to clarify what I said to you in person that I thought about later and wasn’t sure made sense. I can form sentences on the page easier than I can get them to come out of my mouth in any real coherent way.

Still, I had never thought of myself as a writer. I don’t even journal regularly.

But since I started this blog I can see writing is the one thing I feel compelled to do even though I don’t get paid for it. There’s so much I want to share…my thoughts, ideas, experiences, opinions. When I’m in the flow I lose all track of time. I forget to eat, drink or even pee. It was in those moments I started to feel like I finally found ‘it’…the thing I’m meant to do. Woohoo! Finally things will be easier now, right?

Not so fast!

Just getting myself to sit down and write regularly is excruciating. I have been laboring over this particular post off and on for weeks. And I thought when I outed myself on Facebook and gave myself a deadline for my book, that would kick my ass into gear, but it hasn’t. I recently signed up for a writing retreat with a New York Times Best-Selling Author and promptly lost several nights sleep. I have been riddled with anxiety, nausea, and dread ever since.

Where is all that ease, motivation and enthusiasm I’d heard so much about? Wasn’t that supposed to be the reward for finding ‘it’ in the first place? Easy was the carrot I’d dangled in front of myself for so long and frankly I’m pissed that hasn’t been my experience. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. This is the part no one mentions (or if they did I failed to hear). When it comes to actually doing the thing you’re meant to do in this world, it will scare the living hell out of you. And you will want more than anything to turn and run as fast as you can back to something that feels safe, comfortable…easy.

So where do I go from here? I could just quit. Give up the idea of being a writer. I don’t have to put myself through this. No one would blame me for not wanting to deal the anxiety, the self-imposed pressure, the fear of judgement, the feeling that I’m being turned inside out. I haven’t spent all this time searching for something that would make me feel like I want to lose my lunch. I was looking for ease, remember?

But I love writing. Actually, that’s not entirely true. As Michael Kanin said, “I don’t like to write, I love to have written,” and that’s a whole lot more accurate. Though I feel drawn to it, writing itself is mostly hard. Blog posts and book chapters rarely flow out of me perfectly written and ready to publish. It takes dedication and time and discipline (one of my least favorite things). But having written something that touches one other person…now that’s the sweet spot. That’s what makes it all worthwhile.

So I’m changing my expectation. Maybe it will never be easy. Maybe I will always be afraid, neurotic, anxiety-ridden. Maybe I will never wake up on Monday morning and be excited to write. But I’m doing it.

Writing is the one thing I can’t not do (yes, I realize that’s a double-negative…get over it!). Because every once in a while something I say resonates with someone else in this world and in that moment they realize they’re not alone. And that is reason enough for me to breath into that paper bag and keep writing.

“Many of us seek that which we will flee if we find it. I have seen this time and again, both in myself and in others. We seek, we search, and then we find a calling or a relationship that is a perfect reflection of our yearning… we turn away and go back to seeking, almost as though the light of our true-path was too bright for us, too vulnerable for us, too real for us. This is a pattern that we have to recognize and heal or else we will never stop looking for what is already there. True-path is not always around the next corner. Sometimes its right here.”      ~Jeff Brown

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

Seeing Old Times Through New Eyes

Me with my sister, our dog Rusty and the infamous station wagon in 1968.

Me with my sister, our dog Rusty and the infamous station wagon in 1968.

Lately I’ve been reminiscing about a much different time in my life. A time before I got so consumed with doing more, having more, being more. A time when things felt easy and fun. I was remembering my childhood.

I had a fairly ordinary upbringing. Until high school everyone I knew lived pretty much the same way we did. The men worked, most of the women stayed home. People lived in modest, usually somewhat messy, homes. No manicured lawns. No one I knew drove a new car. We had enough. We were happy.

Fast-forward to today and it seems like the standard is so much higher; the pace so much faster. I sometimes fantasize about having enough money to buy a new car and remodel my house. I have visions of hardwood floors and granite countertops; stainless steel appliances, leather furniture, a flat-screen TV. All around me smart phones, gym memberships, mani/pedis, and designer handbags have become the norm.

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with those things. Some of them weren’t even available when I was growing up. And I certainly enjoy the many advances we’ve made. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to connect with you today. I’m just noting the difference.

I’m also not insinuating life was easy for my parents. My dad worked hard and money was a constant worry raising four kids. But, back then it never occurred to me the adults in my life wanted more the way it seems that we constantly do now.

What if they had it right all along?

I have so many fond memories of times gone by. The worn linoleum on my grandmother’s kitchen floor. Birthday cakes not bought at the store but painstakingly crafted into pink elephants with coconut frosting. The old station wagon in which my parents took us to the drive-in where we would watch Evel Knievel movies in our pajamas.

The tire swing hanging from the old cedar tree behind our house. Lazy summer afternoons spent at the lake with all our friends. Getting books from the Bookmobile because the library was too far away. The clothes my mom used to sew for us.

Homemade bread. Eating food fresh from our garden, especially the raspberries from the bushes transplanted from my grandmother’s house. Fruit from Eastern Washington my mom bought each year in wooden crates from a man named Harry and canned for the upcoming winter months.

Having only two channels to watch on TV…three if we could talk my dad into going up on the roof to turn the antennae. The hand-me-downs I got from my sister. I admit I didn’t appreciate either one of those at the time.

Looking back over my adult years I can see how much time and energy I’ve spent trying to better my life, when it was really pretty good all along. These days I’m longing for the things I didn’t understand the importance of as a child. Like growing my own food and lazy summer days.

Life was good. Not because we had so much…but because we didn’t. Things were so simple then. Sometimes less is more.

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

Lessons from a Teenage Boy

Image credit: http://malibumom.com/2013/03/16/whats-for-dinner-mom/

Image credit: http://malibumom.com

Every day Kyle, my teenage son, asks me two questions. “What’s for dinner?” and “Is it going to be good?” The first question I only find mildly annoying when I don’t actually have a plan for dinner. The second one, however, I take as a personal attack. Every. Single. Time.

People come into our lives as teachers. I would say this is especially true of our children. I believe Kyle is in my life to teach me patience, acceptance, and most of all, how not to take things personally.

Kyle and I are very different people. I am open, compassionate, optimistic. He is bossy, opinionated, cynical. If The Odd Couple were a mother and son duo, we would be it.

Even as a child, Kyle was very different from his older brother, Mitch. Mitch was very sweet and loving. He felt remorse when he got in trouble for something. And he always wanted the people he loved to be happy…he still does. Kyle, on the other hand, has always been a bit like a grumpy old man. He wasn’t much of a snuggler, hated having his picture taken, and got genuinely pissed off at being disciplined. Both boys are dangerously smart with wicked senses of humor. But, while Mitch taught me about love, Kyle is teaching me about me.

Recently, when I flew off the handle because Kyle asked me, for about the millionth time, if dinner was going to be good he told me, “You shouldn’t take this so personally.” I really lost it! I told him to sit down, shut up and eat his dinner. There may or may not have been some cursing on my part.

I felt bad, of course. I always do. I apologized for yelling at him. His response was a casual, “It’s okay.” I’m fairly certain he didn’t take my little outburst personally at all.

It didn’t hit me until the next morning. Taking things too personally is something I’ve struggled with…particularly in my relationships with men. I realized in that moment I have the perfect opportunity to practice NOT taking things so personally with Kyle every single day.

What if, when he asks if dinner is going to be good, I could take that as just a question, rather than a personal attack on either my intention or my culinary skills? What if, instead of getting so defensive, I could answer lightly, “I hope so!” or “That’s the plan!” or “Nope!”

For an entire year after I first read Don Miguel Ruiz’s book, The Four Agreements, I practiced the agreement “Don’t Take Anything Personally” religiously. But I worked on it with people other than my children or a significant other. Now it seems I’m getting another opportunity that’s a little closer to home.

So I’m going to use this daily opportunity as an experiment of sorts. To see if I can stop making that simple question mean something negative about me and take it for what it is: a question. This will take some practice on my part. Kyle knows how to push my buttons. But I can see the benefits in my current and future relationships will be HUGE! If nothing else, Kyle will have to figure out a new way to get under my skin. And that will make this totally worthwhile 😉

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

Do Nothing

My mind and my soul have been having quite a battle lately. My soul wants me to relax, go with the flow, and trust that everything is working out perfectly. My mind, on the other hand, is being its usual rigid self…trying to figure things out, put together a plan, work towards a goal. I am caught in the middle.

I have been working toward one thing or another as long as I can remember. Like many of you, I come from the school of thought that encourages DOing. Our society rewards achievement, goal setting, and productivity. And I bought into it all…hook, line and sinker.

Then things changed.

In December I was laid off from my job. Fortunately (or so I thought) I had just completed training in September to become a life coach. So in December and January, along with the usual holiday festivities, I focused on getting my coaching practice up and running. It never occurred to me my mind and body might need a break. But by the end of January, I was done. Tapped out. For the first time in my life I stopped. And that scared the shit out of me.

All I could hear—from somewhere deep inside me–was “I don’t want to do anything.” But doing nothing wasn’t an option to me. Not moving towards something feels very uncomfortable. Anxiety kicked in and it was tempting keep moving…in any direction. But my soul was adamant. And I was really tired. So before I took off in hot pursuit of the next thing I thought I should be doing, I decided to take some time to listen…to that still, small voice within.

I started doing an exercise regularly that I learned from Abigail Steidley. Abigail is a Master Mind Body Coach who was also one of my instructors during life coach training. The exercise is called Drawing on your Inner Wisdom. Perfect, I thought. This will show me what I need to do and where I need to go next. I was on board.

It went a little bit like this:

Question: What should I do next?
What I meant: Please, please, please tell me what to do.
Answer: Trust. It’s all working out perfectly. You don’t have to force it. Just go with the flow. Relax. Let things happen.

Question: Should I enter a writing contest?
What I meant: Is this it?
Answer: Do nothing. Now isn’t the time. This is the time to rest. There are better opportunities for you down the road. Let it be right now.

Question: What will I do for work?
What I meant: I need a direction here.
Answer: Relax. It’s not time for that yet. Just be. What are you in such a hurry for? It’s okay to do nothing. Stop fighting the healing process. Just let it be.

Question: Should I contact an old love?
What I meant: I need something to distract me from not knowing what I’m doing.
Answer: Wait. It’s not time yet. Be patient. You’ll see the purpose later. Take care of yourself. You’re not ready for this right now.

Each time I did the exercise I asked a slightly different question, but the answer was basically the same…do nothing.

If you know me you know that Do Nothing isn’t really in my vocabulary. Even during times when I don’t appear to be doing anything physically, I am typically doing a lot mentally; thinking, analyzing, trying to figure things out. The idea of doing none of that is pretty foreign to me.

Then the other day, during my meditation, I had the following conversation with myself. Yes, I realize I talk to myself a lot. Probably because I spend the majority of my time alone and also because I’m an introvert. Are you saying you don’t talk to yourself? Well, then one of us is just weird. I’ll let you guess which one. Anyway, back to the meditation:

Me: So…I’ve been doing nothing. Now what?
Soul: silence
Me: Seriously…what’s next?
Soul: That’s it…do nothing.
Me: You gotta be kidding me! For how long?
Soul: As long as it takes.
Me: sigh

Ok, I’m a lousy liar. Truthfully I didn’t really sigh at the end. I said fuck! But sighing seemed softer, more ladylike, more appropriate. You shouldn’t swear at your soul, right? But, seriously…fuck!

I really thought I was on this path to figure shit out so I could get on with my life. Doing nothing wasn’t part of the plan. And yet, here I am…

So I’m doing the only thing I can. You guessed it. Nothing.

I’ve realized the key is, as with anything, to not resist it or think it should be any different. It’s not easy and I go in and out of resistance depending on the day, hour, minute. When that happens, I gently (or sometimes not so gently) remind myself…it’s okay to do nothing.

What’s on the other side of all this nothingness? I have no idea. And that’s not really the point. The purpose for me is to let go of my need to control, force, or make anything happen. A little at a time. Each and every day.

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

The Winter of My Discontent

I’m sitting in my living room with the sun streaming through the window. It feels warm on my face and I close my eyes in an effort to take it in fully, soak it up, hold onto it. This is a rare moment of peace these days. A moment when it feels like things are going to be okay. There’s room to breath. The sun is shining…all is well in the world.

This has been—and may continue to be—‘the winter of my discontent.’ (I’m sure Shakespeare will be cool with me borrowing that line from “Richard III”.) But for those of us on the positive thinking track, it appears negative, ungrateful, destructive. Many days I have shut myself off from the world believing I should feel better. Other times I’ve written about it and then felt guilty for focusing on it. Truthfully I’m just trying to learn how to navigate—an ultimately accept—this is a part of my life.

As early as middle school I can remember having these feelings—fear, anxiety, depression–and wondering what was wrong with me. In my 20s and 30s I took anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications to quell the thoughts and feelings that seemed too dark to face. But taking medication to ‘fix’ the problem left me feeling like there was something wrong with me. So I stopped. It’s been almost 14 years since I used those drugs to get through the difficult times.

But something else has happened; something more insidious than the low moods themselves. Over the years and in the reading of self-help books too numerous to count, I am back to believing there is something wrong with me; that I need to be fixed.

I do believe positive thinking can be vey helpful. I’ve seen it in my own life. But the downside of taking positive thinking too far is that when I’m feeling angry, fearful, frustrated, or sad, I beat myself up. Mentally and emotionally I kick my own ass. And I gotta tell you…it’s exhausting!

What do we say to someone who’s feeling down? “I hope you feel better soon,” right? Because we believe (myself included) that ‘feeling better’ is the goal. But what if ‘better’ is part of the continuum between suffering and joy? Neither one of those states is superior to the other. They are equal participants in the human condition. What if we could say instead, “I love you no matter how you feel and I’m here if you need someone to listen”? What if we (and by we I mean I) could be more accepting? Especially of those feelings that are uncomfortable to us.

Moods are just like the tides…they follow nature’s rhythm. Sometimes they’re high, sometimes they’re low. But you don’t think there’s something wrong with the ocean just because the tide is out. And if it feels like it’s been low tide for far too long, don’t worry. High tide will return when it’s supposed to. In the meantime, think of all the treasures there are to discover when the tide is out—seashells, creatures of all kinds, the occasional message in a bottle.

The treasure I have found is writing.

Writing, for me, has become a way to talk about the things I don’t really know how to deal with. It’s also my way of finding ‘my people.’ Not as a vehicle to commiserate or feel sorry for myself. But just to feel heard and understood. This is how I can do something constructive with what I’ve learned; how I can help those who have similar struggles and feel like no one understands them. I write about my life to say, “I get you…and there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Like me, you may be sensitive and not realize it, feel things more deeply than other people and not know why. That’s okay. Really.

For most of my life I’ve tried to understand what I thought was wrong with me so I could fix it and be like other people I’ve admired. But now I’m taking a different approach. I’m learning to find more acceptance and love for myself. To be honest about what I’m feeling or thinking and not force it to be any different. To realize this is the way I am and I don’t need to apologize for it. It might not always be pretty or seem ‘in control’, and that’s just fine.

The irony is in accepting the parts of myself I’ve worked so diligently to fix, I realize more and more there was nothing wrong with me to begin with. And in the wise words of The Beatles…I’m learning to “Let it be.”

**This post is in memory of Debbie Ford who taught me to accept all of me…the good and the bad, the light and the dark. She believed our gifts are in the shadows. And it is only in accepting the whole of who we are that we will really become all that we are meant to be. I am forever grateful for that lesson and for the many other ways she changed my life. Wherever you are, Debbie, I hope you realize the impact you have made on the world. But most of all I hope you know how much you are loved.**

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

Faking It On Facebook

Image credit unknown

Image credit unknown

Do Facebook posts seem a little too unrealistic at times? A little too saccharine sweet? A little too ‘everything’s happy and wonderful all the time’?

I’ve been struggling with Facebook lately and it has me considering this: Are the selves we present on Facebook our real selves? Or are they the version of ourselves we want other people to see? Sometimes when I scroll through my page, I have this perception that everyone has it altogether except me. I want to show my true self, but I don’t want to be the one Negative Nelly complaining about not living the life of her dreams.

In Sheryl Paul’s recent post Delete Your Facebook Account: A Revolutionary Act, she writes, “The bottom line is that very few people – if anyone – tell the whole truth on Facebook. Most people present a skewed slice of their life which is inevitably their “best”, most polished self. This creates a fantasy world where the message is: Nobody struggles. Nobody questions. Nobody has anxiety. Nobody has depression. Nobody doubts.”

I definitely struggle, question, have anxiety, depression and doubt, but I’ll be the first to admit I don’t always share my true feelings on Facebook. When I’m feeling lousy I generally tend to stay away…or at least not post anything. I don’t want to be perceived as “that person” as my friend Jina says.

But some days I just want to say fuck this shit! I’m feeling lousy so could you all stop drinking the kool-aid and let me have my moment? Don’t you ever feel lousy too?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting everyone air their dirty laundry or use Facebook as a place to be nasty to others. But I appreciate honesty. We all have difficult times in our lives. Our marriages fall apart, our kid gets kicked out of school, we battle life-threatening illnesses, we make big, scary changes, things don’t turn out as we expected. Is it really so wrong to let other people see our fears and disappointments? Why do we feel compelled to hide those parts of ourselves?

I, for one, would like to see more realism. And that starts with me.

My commitment with this blog and in all areas of my life is to be more authentic, more real, more me. But when I don’t feel safe to share how I’m really feeling (on Facebook or anywhere else), I’m not being authentic. I’m being the version of me I want you to see…happy, positive, together. The version of me I think you won’t judge.

But that’s not the real me. At least not every day. I have many ‘good’ days. But some days are hard, frustrating, and downright shitty! What if we could all share a little more of our real selves with one another?

I do love that I have so many positive people on Facebook. And I mostly enjoy their inspirational, upbeat and positive posts. But some days they just don’t resonate with me. And on those days I have to choose whether to be honest about where I’m at or just stay off Facebook for the safety of all concerned.

Today my tea had the best advice: “Appreciate yourself and honor your soul.” For me that means appreciating and honoring even (or especially) when I’m sad, depressed, unmotivated, irritable, or just plain shitty. And part of appreciating and honoring is being vulnerable enough to be honest.

Thanks Yogi Tea! I’m doing my best…on Facebook and everywhere else.

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I’d love to hear your comments below. If you liked this post, then please ‘Like’ it and share with your friends. And don’t forget to click ‘Follow’ to get email notifications whenever I post something new. But most of all…thank you for reading and being a part of my journey.

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