§ We came to this world to LIVE OUT LOUD.
I didn’t think my heart would break all over again. How can it be just as hard to say goodbye the second time around? Harder actually.
My oldest daughter turned eighteen this past weekend. Adult(ish). To say that I’m a jumble of emotions would be the understatement of the year.
Armed with face masks, gloves, plastic face shields and tons of hand sanitizer, I’ve spent the past nine days road tripping from Florida to Washington DC with my oldest daughter.
“Don’t you feel completely out of place here?” my husband asked me last night, referring to our prolonged stay in an Airbnb in Southwestern Florida.
It’s so easy to get triggered these days, no matter how much healing work you’ve done.
I’ve been feeling a nagging sensation in the pit of my stomach lately, which I recognize as shame.
Sometimes the most courageous act is to let everything fall apart so you can decide which pieces you want to pick up again and which you want to leave behind or even sweep up and throw in the garbage.
I’m struck how the seed of anger that is inside of each of us is exploding and affecting not only us but our families, communities, countries and the world.
I’m noticing more and more how in times of stress, we fall back on old defense mechanisms, even those we thought we let go of a long time ago.
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