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it's not safe to keep this a secret.

I’ve gone to each of the dark corners of my mind many times, considering and pondering putting an end to it all.  All of the work, all of the “overcoming”.  All of the endless gymnastics.  So many thoughts. But I haven’t gone through with it.  I’ve fought them.  I fight them.  I won’t stop fighting them, and here is my why and how.

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The Ego Doesn't Give

give /giv/ verb 1. Freely transfer the posession of (something) to (someone); hand over to.  I had this all wrong.  Until now.  It doesn’t mean I haven’t been generous.  It doesn’t mean I haven’t busted my ass to raise awareness and money.  I’ve advocated.  I’ve hustled.  I’ve partnered in the name of greater good. I’ve given so much time.  I’ve given the shirt off of my body and the jewelry off of my neck.  The hat off of my head even!     But, I let a few giving processes this year drain me.  I thought that other humans and organizations had deflated me.  I was giving and trying so hard to do my part; hoping for others to see...

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The SHAME that’s ON YOU

 by guestblogger Alison Gullion, LPC When we break a leg and hobble around in a cast for what seems like an eternity, other’s notice and give us pardon. Complete strangers open doors for us, stop to let us cross in the middle of the street, or help us to our car with groceries. It is unexpected grace in a relentlessly fast paced world. Believe it or not, people DO still notice others and stop to support them when it is obvious they could use it.    Have you ever known anyone with diabetes? What about rheumatoid arthritis?  Likely, the only way you know this information about them is if they tell you.  What about anxiety? Depression? PTSD? Chronic Stress? We...

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DIScomfort Zone: 5 perspective hacks that can get you to embrace something new!

  I remember coming home from school or activities as a kid and looking at Mom’s magnetic whiteboard on the fridge to see what we were having for dinner.  Pot Roast was a total bummer, spaghetti was always good.  I could even roll with taco salad night.  I knew what most of the meals were going to taste like so I could mentally prepare for dinner.  This was important because I was a “picky eater”.  By the way, who isn’t? Anyway, somewhere along her domestic journey, mom got sick and tired of the same old. She got all crazy and wrote two words on her whiteboard: Something New!  I can still hear her sing-songy voice saying those words when she...

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But I’m Not Sorry! An Attempt to Organize Thoughts on Women and Self Expression

I’ve been studying women lately.  Girlfriends, my mom, my taekwondo teacher and classmates, the grocery store checkers, the Peet’s barista (especially Tish, who always remembers my name), yoga instructors, my fitness students, and so on.     The way they move, the voices they use in conversation, interactions with strangers, behaviors toward other women, behavior with men, the way they drive, their body language, facial expressions, eye contact (or lack of), laughter, service interactions, etc.     I’m so tuned in that I’ve vibed with many women through shared glances, smiles, and random conversation.  My staring also gets me a few stinkeyes.  Apparently, some people don’t like to be observed?  Anyway, it’s a fascinating study.    This project of mine...

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