As we were making her bed this morning, my daughter told me that she believes her three stuffed animals are real - Barky (a dog), Simba (the baby lion from Lion King) and Aslan (passed down after more than 30 years from me to her). The evidence: Simba seems to have outgrown his palm leaf/diaper.
A few weeks ago, I lent out a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit to a client. It's a great childrens' book about a stuffed rabbit who longs to be 'real.' And it's also about love and magic.
And, count me among the fans who saw Harry Potter #7 part 2 at the theater. The scene that really resonated with me emotionally was where Harry has 'died.' He finds himself in an in-between, foggy-ish, surreal-ish place reminiscent to him of King's Cross Station. He asks Dumbledore, who is also there with him - 'is this real? Or is it all in my mind?'
Dumbledore replies, 'Of course, it's all in your mind. That doesn't mean it's not real.'
And here comes The Green Album, a tribute to the music of The Muppets - artists like Weezer, My Morning Jacket, etc. cover. If anyone walks the uncomfortable line between real and not real, it's Kermit, Miss Piggy, Fozzie, and the gang. Wasn't it (and isn't it) amazing to watch the human actors interact with the muppets, whether you watch on Sesame Street or the Muppet Show? When we were talking about this album, my sister even said, 'who isn't a little in love with Kermit?'
Why is it that a kid's world is so easily magical and the adults world is so fraught with the question, the need to have absolute knowledge that anything worthy is real as measured by an objective standard?
What about the lyrics to The Rainbow Connection?
have you been half asleep and
have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailor?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it;
it's something that I'm s'pposed to be.
Someday we'll find it. The rainbow connection -
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
If we just listen, don't we know it's true? Maybe there's a difference between true and real. Maybe things aren't as complicated as we make them.
I believe that if we try to stop the chatter in our brains, we can listen to something essential to ourselves. We inherently posses in us a deep peace that knows beyond inadequate words like real or unreal. And when we let ourselves stop that distracting chatter, we can also let go and have a little fun.
Let's take some time to listen http://www.npr.org/2011/08/14/138984517/first-listen-muppets-the-green-album
In keeping with the theme, may I particularly recommend I'm Going to Go Back There Someday. The last song on the album.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
my friend, Sandy, and I save the world in 1994
I met my friend Sandy when I moved to Georgetown, Washington, DC just after I graduated from college in 1994. Sandy and I are kindred spirit - we both enjoy a strange, sometimes ridiculous, and sometimes dark sense of humor. And in our own ways, we are both brooders. I'm sure we both brood less in 2011, being 17 years older. He and I often jogged together along the C & O Canal. I remember some beautiful Fall days along the river.
One particular conversation we had, probably while running...it was a brooding one. About the state of the world and how was anything ever going to get better? Luckily, we knew the answer. Even if it was an answer that may doom the world to eventual catastrophe because of its utter unlikelihood:
How are things ever going to get better? we asked ourselves in righteous, youthful cynicism.
"I THINK IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF MARTYRS." we decided.
"YES, THAT'S EXACTLY IT. IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF PEOPLE WHO ARE WILLING TO GIVE UP THINGS THEY WANT IN THE SHORT TERM TO MAKE LIFE BETTER FOR GENERATIONS TO COME IN THE LONG TERM." Probably, we then had to go listen to some Dave Matthews.
Yet, as I listened this past week, to the news about the debt ceiling, about the U.S. credit rating, the 'double dip' recession, I thought about two things: 1) this conversation with Sandy and 2) stories about my Gran.
My Gran lived to be 95 years old. She was born in 1908. When she was pregnant with my mom she went into labor in a rations line. During World War II, there was an enemy and it was clear what had to be done - everyone had to 'sacrifice' some short-term comforts like sugar, gasoline, etc in order to contribute toward the cause of victory.
The economy, politics, and looking at history really does intersect with our emotional health, both as a country and as individuals. Looking at the long term, big picture and foregoing immediate gratification takes emotional maturity.
Thomas Friedman wrote in the NYT last week about the need for prompt and 'collective action' to correct our economic situation http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/07/opinion/sunday/Friedman-win-together-or-lose-together.html?ref=thomaslfriedman .
I wonder if we can again be a nation of emotional maturity? Can we consider collective action without being reactionary and getting caught up in speech that automatically equates collective action with communism and threats to freedom? I think we can.
I also think it's a mark of mental health and maturity to take a realistic look and try to imagine all your options when you feel you're in a jam. Sometimes our options seem so far down the road, or so difficult for one person to try to achieve anything that we tend to throw our hands up and say, "I'll just deal with my own little piece of the world." That's okay. But I believe we all have one immediate option, should we choose to use it: let's talk about and bring into the public dialogue the fact that many of us feel and know that it is not a sacrifice to help make our earth, our country a more sustainable place in every way.
One particular conversation we had, probably while running...it was a brooding one. About the state of the world and how was anything ever going to get better? Luckily, we knew the answer. Even if it was an answer that may doom the world to eventual catastrophe because of its utter unlikelihood:
How are things ever going to get better? we asked ourselves in righteous, youthful cynicism.
"I THINK IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF MARTYRS." we decided.
"YES, THAT'S EXACTLY IT. IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF PEOPLE WHO ARE WILLING TO GIVE UP THINGS THEY WANT IN THE SHORT TERM TO MAKE LIFE BETTER FOR GENERATIONS TO COME IN THE LONG TERM." Probably, we then had to go listen to some Dave Matthews.
Yet, as I listened this past week, to the news about the debt ceiling, about the U.S. credit rating, the 'double dip' recession, I thought about two things: 1) this conversation with Sandy and 2) stories about my Gran.
My Gran lived to be 95 years old. She was born in 1908. When she was pregnant with my mom she went into labor in a rations line. During World War II, there was an enemy and it was clear what had to be done - everyone had to 'sacrifice' some short-term comforts like sugar, gasoline, etc in order to contribute toward the cause of victory.
The economy, politics, and looking at history really does intersect with our emotional health, both as a country and as individuals. Looking at the long term, big picture and foregoing immediate gratification takes emotional maturity.
Thomas Friedman wrote in the NYT last week about the need for prompt and 'collective action' to correct our economic situation http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/07/opinion/sunday/Friedman-win-together-or-lose-together.html?ref=thomaslfriedman .
I wonder if we can again be a nation of emotional maturity? Can we consider collective action without being reactionary and getting caught up in speech that automatically equates collective action with communism and threats to freedom? I think we can.
I also think it's a mark of mental health and maturity to take a realistic look and try to imagine all your options when you feel you're in a jam. Sometimes our options seem so far down the road, or so difficult for one person to try to achieve anything that we tend to throw our hands up and say, "I'll just deal with my own little piece of the world." That's okay. But I believe we all have one immediate option, should we choose to use it: let's talk about and bring into the public dialogue the fact that many of us feel and know that it is not a sacrifice to help make our earth, our country a more sustainable place in every way.
Friday, July 29, 2011
little things make a difference
I'm trying to eat better.
What do I mean by better? Well, lots of things. In the past few years some new information has slowly been seeping into my brain and consciousness. It began when my daughter was born and people asked me if I was going to let her have regular milk or 'organic.' "You know," these people told me, '"all the hormones they give cows is what's making girls develop younger.'" Well, come to think of it, it did seem to me like teenage girls were much more 'developed' than when I was a teenager. (This is making me think of Judy Blume!) And as a parent, suddenly it seemed important to prolong childhood as long as possible. Despite my husband protesting about the expense of it, we began buying organic milk.
This is only to say that I am no saint. My motives aren't always, initially anyway, for world betterment. I'm just saying this is how my plan to eat better began. And as you read on, I guess I am going to grossly oversimplify a lot of what some really smart people have said.
In the past couple years, I also skimmed through The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Among other things, he suggests that a lot of what we eat, our grandparents wouldn't even recognize as food. He also talks about farming and environmental impacts of the way we farm and concerns about sustainability. Here's an article I just looked at in the past week. http://www.good.is/post/hold-the-lamb-eat-more-lentils-new-guide-ranks-proteins-by-carbon-footprint/
This past spring , I watched Food, Inc. and saw some of the conditions that some of our livestock are raised in and the copious amounts of corn fed to our cows, for example. I was amazed to learn about corn and its ubiquity in food and other products available in our grocery stores. I started reading labels. Wow. Corn.
Simultaneously, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and I began facilitating a young women's breast cancer support group for the Cancer Support Community. I researched links between diet and breast cancer. New insights are gained all the time, but here is a reliable, balanced link: http://www.livestrong.com/article/377091-is-there-a-link-between-breast-cancer-diet/s
What does this have to do with mental health/emotional well being?
I'm about to make a weird leap, but I hope you'll stick with me: many people have heard of the Butterfly Effect, which is really a demonstration of 'chaos theory.' (A butterfly flutters its wings in Peru and it causes a wind effect that eventually leads to a hurricane in Australia). The idea is that seemingly chaotic, random events may be caused by a precise set of circumstances at the start - if we can isolate all the beginning variables, then we can understand how the so-called chaotic event happened.
Really, it's just that I believe everything is interconnected. How I care about myself, how I care about the planet, how I care about all living creatures makes a difference. How you care about yourself, the planet, others, makes a difference. We might make little differences - at least that's what we see, but it's possible, in the end, we make a big difference (just like the butterfly).
So, I'm eating more consciously. Not perfectly. It's just one little thing.
What do I mean by better? Well, lots of things. In the past few years some new information has slowly been seeping into my brain and consciousness. It began when my daughter was born and people asked me if I was going to let her have regular milk or 'organic.' "You know," these people told me, '"all the hormones they give cows is what's making girls develop younger.'" Well, come to think of it, it did seem to me like teenage girls were much more 'developed' than when I was a teenager. (This is making me think of Judy Blume!) And as a parent, suddenly it seemed important to prolong childhood as long as possible. Despite my husband protesting about the expense of it, we began buying organic milk.
This is only to say that I am no saint. My motives aren't always, initially anyway, for world betterment. I'm just saying this is how my plan to eat better began. And as you read on, I guess I am going to grossly oversimplify a lot of what some really smart people have said.
In the past couple years, I also skimmed through The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Among other things, he suggests that a lot of what we eat, our grandparents wouldn't even recognize as food. He also talks about farming and environmental impacts of the way we farm and concerns about sustainability. Here's an article I just looked at in the past week. http://www.good.is/post/hold-the-lamb-eat-more-lentils-new-guide-ranks-proteins-by-carbon-footprint/
This past spring , I watched Food, Inc. and saw some of the conditions that some of our livestock are raised in and the copious amounts of corn fed to our cows, for example. I was amazed to learn about corn and its ubiquity in food and other products available in our grocery stores. I started reading labels. Wow. Corn.
Simultaneously, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and I began facilitating a young women's breast cancer support group for the Cancer Support Community. I researched links between diet and breast cancer. New insights are gained all the time, but here is a reliable, balanced link: http://www.livestrong.com/article/377091-is-there-a-link-between-breast-cancer-diet/s
What does this have to do with mental health/emotional well being?
I'm about to make a weird leap, but I hope you'll stick with me: many people have heard of the Butterfly Effect, which is really a demonstration of 'chaos theory.' (A butterfly flutters its wings in Peru and it causes a wind effect that eventually leads to a hurricane in Australia). The idea is that seemingly chaotic, random events may be caused by a precise set of circumstances at the start - if we can isolate all the beginning variables, then we can understand how the so-called chaotic event happened.
Really, it's just that I believe everything is interconnected. How I care about myself, how I care about the planet, how I care about all living creatures makes a difference. How you care about yourself, the planet, others, makes a difference. We might make little differences - at least that's what we see, but it's possible, in the end, we make a big difference (just like the butterfly).
So, I'm eating more consciously. Not perfectly. It's just one little thing.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
it's good to...hope
In the past few months, we got rid of cable and now filter our tv viewing through Netflix/Hulu. I do miss The Real Housewives. I really, really do. BUT. I am in the middle of the first season of Glee and I am loving it. I think it's kind of a summer thing - some kind of nostalgia for youth, but not like "Glory Days" nostalgia, more like an appreciation of youthfulness. I especially like Glee because the youth portrayed seems more believable to me than, say Gossip Girls (I've never watched it, but they seem way more sophisticated than my suburban St. Louis high school.) Glee's youth, at least in the first season, is actually kind of innocent and full of music. This youth is full of un-coolness, and a lack of irony. This was my kind of youth.
There's a lot that is painful and embarassing about it, but this is the thing I like about youth and I'm being reminded in a number of places - from the pool, to Glee, to the "bios" for my kids' zoo camp counselors: youth hopes. It might be frivolous, missplaced, or unrealistic, but it is hope! It hasn't been beaten out them. Remember the melodramatic scene in The Breakfast Club (as if there's only one melodramatic scene!), where Allly Sheedy's character says, "when you grow up (dramatic pause) your heart dies.' Well, it can be kind of true. Being grown up often runs the gamut from kind of hard to very hard.
For my mental health, it's nice to occasionally indulge in some of that innocent pleasure called hope and exuberance. Sometimes I have to seek it out because it's not finding me - I watch Glee or I listen to a song that conveys something awesome to me. No matter how cool or grown up I think I am, I get chills and feel like falling in love every time I hear "Don't Stop Believing" (Journey, circa 1981).
I think I've written before here that the Dalai Lama cautions against hope, because it reflects an attachment to an outcome. I am here to say, in this instance (and probably only this instance) I disagree with the Dalai Lama. I think there's something awesome about hoping - not for any specific thing, but allowing yourself, for a few moments to just hope. Who knows what the future will be, but for a little while, let yourself imagine nothing in particular, but that it's a really good one.
One last thought - I found a fun website that makes me feel good and interested, and I sometimes hopeful: http://www.good.is/
There's a lot that is painful and embarassing about it, but this is the thing I like about youth and I'm being reminded in a number of places - from the pool, to Glee, to the "bios" for my kids' zoo camp counselors: youth hopes. It might be frivolous, missplaced, or unrealistic, but it is hope! It hasn't been beaten out them. Remember the melodramatic scene in The Breakfast Club (as if there's only one melodramatic scene!), where Allly Sheedy's character says, "when you grow up (dramatic pause) your heart dies.' Well, it can be kind of true. Being grown up often runs the gamut from kind of hard to very hard.
For my mental health, it's nice to occasionally indulge in some of that innocent pleasure called hope and exuberance. Sometimes I have to seek it out because it's not finding me - I watch Glee or I listen to a song that conveys something awesome to me. No matter how cool or grown up I think I am, I get chills and feel like falling in love every time I hear "Don't Stop Believing" (Journey, circa 1981).
I think I've written before here that the Dalai Lama cautions against hope, because it reflects an attachment to an outcome. I am here to say, in this instance (and probably only this instance) I disagree with the Dalai Lama. I think there's something awesome about hoping - not for any specific thing, but allowing yourself, for a few moments to just hope. Who knows what the future will be, but for a little while, let yourself imagine nothing in particular, but that it's a really good one.
One last thought - I found a fun website that makes me feel good and interested, and I sometimes hopeful: http://www.good.is/
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Asking for help
In the past year or so a couple events arose in my life that gave me cause to ask for help. 1) My job was downsized and 2) my mom got breast cancer. To be blunt, those two life events sucked. But, my life hasn't sucked. There are many, many reasons my life not only hasn't sucked, but I would say has been overall, good. But, the one reason I want to talk about is how I learned to ask for help, what I am still learning about asking for help, and what I hope might be helpful to others from my experience.
For a long time I didn't know I ever needed help for anything. I come from a stubborn, proud Scotch heritage on my mom's side. My grandmother was often one to say, "Keep your pride." Asking for help, where I come from, is fine for other people, but not for us. One time I told my mom (when my kids were very small and my husband was travelling and I was working, etc.) that I thought I was having a nervous breakdown. "We don't have those," she replied. Nervous breakdowns, apparently, are not allowed in our genetic makeup. No one in my family was mean or cruel, but the idea was keep on keeping on. There's good to that, of course, but like all things, in moderation.
So, at some point, I realized that there were moments in life that I might need help - I might need someone to drive me to the airport, I might like someone to keep me company after a crime was committed in my apartment building, I might want someone to just listen.
Asking for help takes practice. It takes practice to identify when you might need it. It might take practice to overcome what you think of as your pride. It might be that the people you ask for help are not available physically or emotionally. That can be discouraging. Like everything, I've learned to keep practicing and cast a wide net.
When the tough stuff has come up for me recently, I've cast a wide net by using email. I emailed my personal, trusted extended group of friends. I pretty much said, 'keep me and my family in your thoughts.' The support, kindness, commiseration, and love I felt...well, I can't thank those people enough. Help came in many, many forms - from encouraging emails, to job leads, to articles about breast cancer.
In having some trouble asking for help, I know I am not alone. But, I think I'm doing a little better. Like most of what has worked for my mental health is - try giving it a try. Then, keep trying - if you ask the wrong people, try other people. If you don't get the help you want or need this time, tweak it the next time. Be specific. Acknowledge your losses, but be grateful for what you have.
On a slight tangent, I'd like to acknowledge my friend and fellow poet, Kelli Allen who is doing some awesome work with poetry and vets. If you love poetry and/or music lyrics, you may be especially interested and especially hopeful that this Missouri Warrior Writers Project might be the right help for some people at the right time. Here's a link to her blog: http://mowarriorwriters.wordpress.com/blog/
Take care!
For a long time I didn't know I ever needed help for anything. I come from a stubborn, proud Scotch heritage on my mom's side. My grandmother was often one to say, "Keep your pride." Asking for help, where I come from, is fine for other people, but not for us. One time I told my mom (when my kids were very small and my husband was travelling and I was working, etc.) that I thought I was having a nervous breakdown. "We don't have those," she replied. Nervous breakdowns, apparently, are not allowed in our genetic makeup. No one in my family was mean or cruel, but the idea was keep on keeping on. There's good to that, of course, but like all things, in moderation.
So, at some point, I realized that there were moments in life that I might need help - I might need someone to drive me to the airport, I might like someone to keep me company after a crime was committed in my apartment building, I might want someone to just listen.
Asking for help takes practice. It takes practice to identify when you might need it. It might take practice to overcome what you think of as your pride. It might be that the people you ask for help are not available physically or emotionally. That can be discouraging. Like everything, I've learned to keep practicing and cast a wide net.
When the tough stuff has come up for me recently, I've cast a wide net by using email. I emailed my personal, trusted extended group of friends. I pretty much said, 'keep me and my family in your thoughts.' The support, kindness, commiseration, and love I felt...well, I can't thank those people enough. Help came in many, many forms - from encouraging emails, to job leads, to articles about breast cancer.
In having some trouble asking for help, I know I am not alone. But, I think I'm doing a little better. Like most of what has worked for my mental health is - try giving it a try. Then, keep trying - if you ask the wrong people, try other people. If you don't get the help you want or need this time, tweak it the next time. Be specific. Acknowledge your losses, but be grateful for what you have.
On a slight tangent, I'd like to acknowledge my friend and fellow poet, Kelli Allen who is doing some awesome work with poetry and vets. If you love poetry and/or music lyrics, you may be especially interested and especially hopeful that this Missouri Warrior Writers Project might be the right help for some people at the right time. Here's a link to her blog: http://mowarriorwriters.wordpress.com/blog/
Take care!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
radical acceptance
Here's an article that I found interesting...information about the different types of therapeutic approaches make us all better consumers of counseling/psychotherapy. I think this approach has a lot of merit.
This is from the NY Times today: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/23/health/23lives.html .
I don't have a lot of time to write this week, but I hope you find this thought-provoking.
This is from the NY Times today: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/23/health/23lives.html .
I don't have a lot of time to write this week, but I hope you find this thought-provoking.
Monday, June 13, 2011
save the ta tas!
In February this year my mom was diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer. It's a huge relief for me to write that for two reasons: 1) though prose probably isn't my strongest suit, I am a writer; 2) one of the pillars of my own mental health is telling the truth.
My mom, rightly, asked me not to blog about her diagnosis, treatment, etc, until she felt she had a good handle on the situation herself. She gave me permission to write about this over the weekend, and I am grateful to her to allow me to share a little of her story and also my story as her daughter.
First the news: my mom's prognosis is very good - Stage 1 is early and one of her docs said, "your mammogram saved your life." So, ladies, don't avoid it - go get your mammogram! The type of cancer my mom had was an aggressive type, though, so her treatment team is being aggressive - she has had radiation and chemotherapy (she's still undergoing chemo) and a lumpectomy. In the end, all signs point to long term health for my mom.
So, I could blog a lot about what I've learned this Spring, the medical system pros and cons, the emotional impact this has had on me, but I think I'll revisit that another time - what I'd like to write about is my family's participation in Race for the Cure in St. Louis this past Saturday and what that looked like and meant to me.
My husband and kids and I drove downtown on Saturday morning at 7:30 to join the almost 70,000 people to 'race' for the cure (as you can imagine, with that many people within the 3 mile route in downtown St. Louis, there's little 'racing.') You know, in life it's easy to become cynical about and disappointed in human nature. I often think of the movie, The "Princess Bride", when Wesley says to Buttercup, "Life is not fair, Highness, and anyone who tells you differently is selling you something." It's for sure that cancer is not fair. But, to see nearly 70,000 women, men, children, black people, while people, survivors, every type of person, really, getting together and essentially celebrating women they love (some they have loved and lost), peacably, amicably, and with great good humor - oh my gosh - it was amazing! It touched me and made me hopeful not just about curing cancer, but about fighting the cancer of cynicism, prejudice, ignorance, and hate.
I'd blogged previously about some of the ways it concerns me that women's bodies are not as valued as they should be. This was the absolute counter to that. There couldn't be a more wholesome, sweet celebration of boobs! Again, I feel hopeful.
I think it is the Dalai Lama who suggests that hope is not very useful because it indicates that we are attached to an outcome. I try to learn all I can from every smart and holy person who is available to me, so I try to really feel what he says. But, for better or worse, I still attach to some outcomes; I am attached to my hope right now! Hoping for good health for my mom, and all people. Hoping for our doctors and researchers to find good treatments and cures for cancers. Hoping for more opportunities to celebrate in my community. Less fear, more love! I hope for that.
My mom, rightly, asked me not to blog about her diagnosis, treatment, etc, until she felt she had a good handle on the situation herself. She gave me permission to write about this over the weekend, and I am grateful to her to allow me to share a little of her story and also my story as her daughter.
First the news: my mom's prognosis is very good - Stage 1 is early and one of her docs said, "your mammogram saved your life." So, ladies, don't avoid it - go get your mammogram! The type of cancer my mom had was an aggressive type, though, so her treatment team is being aggressive - she has had radiation and chemotherapy (she's still undergoing chemo) and a lumpectomy. In the end, all signs point to long term health for my mom.
So, I could blog a lot about what I've learned this Spring, the medical system pros and cons, the emotional impact this has had on me, but I think I'll revisit that another time - what I'd like to write about is my family's participation in Race for the Cure in St. Louis this past Saturday and what that looked like and meant to me.
My husband and kids and I drove downtown on Saturday morning at 7:30 to join the almost 70,000 people to 'race' for the cure (as you can imagine, with that many people within the 3 mile route in downtown St. Louis, there's little 'racing.') You know, in life it's easy to become cynical about and disappointed in human nature. I often think of the movie, The "Princess Bride", when Wesley says to Buttercup, "Life is not fair, Highness, and anyone who tells you differently is selling you something." It's for sure that cancer is not fair. But, to see nearly 70,000 women, men, children, black people, while people, survivors, every type of person, really, getting together and essentially celebrating women they love (some they have loved and lost), peacably, amicably, and with great good humor - oh my gosh - it was amazing! It touched me and made me hopeful not just about curing cancer, but about fighting the cancer of cynicism, prejudice, ignorance, and hate.
I'd blogged previously about some of the ways it concerns me that women's bodies are not as valued as they should be. This was the absolute counter to that. There couldn't be a more wholesome, sweet celebration of boobs! Again, I feel hopeful.
I think it is the Dalai Lama who suggests that hope is not very useful because it indicates that we are attached to an outcome. I try to learn all I can from every smart and holy person who is available to me, so I try to really feel what he says. But, for better or worse, I still attach to some outcomes; I am attached to my hope right now! Hoping for good health for my mom, and all people. Hoping for our doctors and researchers to find good treatments and cures for cancers. Hoping for more opportunities to celebrate in my community. Less fear, more love! I hope for that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)