As I watched this sweet canine pause to smell every blade of grass, every pinecone, every dried up leaf, I began reflecting a little more deeply about what “being present” looks like.
Why am I here? That is one of the greatest existential questions of all time, Neighbor. No doubt you have heard many of the buzzwords like life purpose, soul mission, and destiny, to name a few. And no doubt you have tried countless courses and methodologies to help you figure out what all this means to you. Like me, maybe … Read More
Dearest Neighbor, I can relate to your feeling of helplessness, sadness, confusion, and desire for some promise, for anything, anything that will give you hope. Miracle? How can you think of the possibility when your life is a disaster and riddled with the worst pain you have ever imagined? I know how that feeling and those thoughts affected me. I … Read More
This week–shit, the past two years, even!-has evaporated into a vortex of…I don’t know what, Neighbor… Actually, yes I do… I’ve been working hard on healing and moving myself forward following several significant Life Loss events. Working hard on loving myself after years of feeling invisible… Working hard staying on top of a mountain of divorce paperwork; a “gift” that … Read More
Maybe you spent months dreaming up a plan that was sure to take you to new heights or maybe you thought the exciting energy surrounding the trending new diet, exercise or self-help regimen sounded like the next best thing for you, too. Now, for whatever reason, your in-it-to-win-it spirit has turned into God-how-I-hate-this-I-just-might-puke-if…or a You-suck-you-quitter/loser/faker/despicable/[insert your whatever]-You.
Regardless of how you came to setting your resolution, it is obvious that this is more than a little slump; it is just not working for you. In fact, it could be all wrong for you. A few simple questions will help you isolate where the breakdown(s) might be and help you redirect.
Dearest Neighbor, if today–Mother’s Day–you are somehow feeling sad, mad, shame, depressed, deprived, or less than special, you are not alone. I feel you. I see you. I honor and salute you, all of you who carry a mother’s love in your heart, but may not be able to show or share it because something is standing between you and that nurturing. Two decades ago, as we were leaving the funeral for my son, Gavin Michael, my good friend said to me, “You’re a great mom, and he’s so lucky to have you.” It took me a few years to recognize that even though I didn’t have the opportunity to do the traditional “Mom” things, I was his mother in so many ways, ways that were merely (and vastly) different than what we humans expect or envision about Motherhood. In the years since, I have spent a great deal of time reflecting on my friend’s proclamation, and the terms Mom and Motherhood have taken on an entirely new depth for me.