I love the morning time. There’s something about having the day in front of you.
You are overwhelmed and haven’t learned to be your own friend through this yet. You will. Your fear of jumping without a net is so valid, and the trick that you haven’t learned yet is that that’s life, always and everywhere. There are no nets. Life is a big, long free fall, and the sooner you can embrace what is beautiful about that, the sooner you will start to enjoy the ride.
Things evolve into other things. Emotions do the same. Forever. Your best ally in all of these shifting seas is your faith in the fact that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
I was struck by what kept her in place, her fear of hurting him. It reminded me of my own darkest moments, waking up one day, looking around, and not recognizing your own self, because you have given too much of that away.
Good stuff gets worse and bad stuff gets better, so you’re better off to spend a little time making friends with all of it.
My request was for courage. To turn and face the thing that scares you the most and do your best to stay there. I asked for honesty, which sometimes requires more strength than most things we do in our lives.
I hope these essays have been comforting to someone reading it if for no other reason than to watch me openly admit I have no idea what I’m doing. I suspect most people feel that way, even if they don’t fess up.
My emotional hangover was thick and thorny and I felt antsy, wanting to crawl out of my own skin. I had hoped I would sleep off those weird, crazy feelings and wake up “normal,” but my melancholy was everywhere and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.
My personal best seems the most accessible to me when I am being as honest as I can be. At this point in my life, I am attempting to make choices that move me toward what feels authentic, while saying yes to things that make my gut feel spooked with possibility.
Always be chasing the sun. All we can do, is try, and live like we’re still alive.
We’re all stronger than we know, and we’re all meant to leave a legacy.
The melancholy that cracked open that night would eventually become something I’m deeply fond of, but we never know which monsters under the bed will become our friends, do we?
She connects me to my deepest truth and says things I don’t always feel the courage to say in my own life.
Relax. Everyone is going to love you! Just get out of your own way.
You are learning empathy, and what it feels like to be left out. This is going to make you want to be the kind of person who makes room for people who feel like outsiders, and it’s going to serve you well. It’s going to guide you toward people who love you for who you are, so hang in there. Trust me that things are moving in the right direction.
You are exactly where you belong, and your tender heart is precious.
Surrender is a healing sentiment to return to.
My emotional world imploded, and there is nothing that could have been said or done to make it easier. No one was in the wrong, and maybe that is what made it so painful. I wanted someone to blame, but instead got the two people I loved most doing their best to navigate uncharted waters.
Surrender is a healing sentiment to return to, and in the end, I’m glad that my heart was launched into the air by a careless kid, because I was gifted the opportunity of learning how to heal it once it hit the ground.
By treating the mistake with so little weight, it actually became weightless.
You are defending some unnamed territory inside of you that houses what’s true. It exhausts you and burns you out.