life
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It’s late. I take a deep breath. In this quiet moment I let the tears flow. I prefer to cry alone. I’m authentic in this moment. The fear is real. The moment is surreal. I feel gratitude for the moments I have left. “One breath at a time” I say when it’s just
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I have started and erased a few rants this month. I have considered adding a new category to my site called “Uncensored and Unfiltered”
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If you are fortunate enough to live where nature reminds you of the changing seasons, you will likely see the leaves on the trees transforming into a beautiful array of oranges, yellows, and reds right about now. I miss that now that I do not live in the Pacific Northwest. Don’t get me wrong, I
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Here I am putting pen to paper to jot down a few words and say hello, let you know I am alive and well.
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During the last shut down in California, the Pandemic became real for me. What I mean by this is I had seen it in the news, but had not know anyone personally who was touched by it. However in January, an Uncle whom I had a fondness of passed from COVID complications. Then, last week I had another
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What I believe to be true in my world is what becomes true in my day-to-day living.
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I am blessed in my creative nature.
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As I listen to one of my favorite bands’ latest albums, I realize how much I love the bass and drum combo of a song.
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Do you ever find yourself asking yourself why you are friends with a person?
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Did it sting? Did it burn? Was it an overwhelming pain? I cannot remember.
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A valuable piece of knowledge I obtained from my many years of therapy is that I have invisible threads that are tethered to my past hurts. A slight or hurt I experienced in the present is potentially tethered to an emotional hurt in my past. This can manifest in irrational or overreaction to things that are occurring
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I love music. I love what it makes me feel. I love how I feel. I think it is a way for me to get lost, without having somewhere to go. I give control to the song, to the lyrics. I am at the mercy of the artist. I am at the mercy of their story. It is easier to live someone
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I have always said I am an addict, or more accurately I have an addictive personality. What does that really mean? Why do I insist on believing this untruth? I am nothing I do not want to be. Why do I live in the things I do not want to live in? I am the master of my world. I am
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A friend and I once discussed “Drinking the Red Kool-Aid”. I was reflecting on how I do not just go along with things because someone says it is what should be done. I was commenting on how most people are told by someone they respect, a parent, a spiritual leader, or a political leader for example, and
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I have reached a crossroads of sorts in my emotional life. Or more accurately I have changed paths at the latest crossroads. As of late I find myself being happy with who I am. It had been a while since I felt true happiness. What I mean, is that I believe there are two types
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I woke up stuck for the third day in a row, or the fifth or is it the sixth? I have been stuck in writing, stuck in things of life, stuck in thought patterns, just STUCK. Reading is my mode of escapism I use to tolerate the “stuck days” but even that has been failing me
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Jack sings his song; his words resonate in me. He says my love is soft, kind, and blind. He says my love is wasted. He says someday I will see. I look back now, and see my disaster. He says I can choose to learn. I choose to realize my love was wasted on you.
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I have done my best to avoid media coverage regarding Donald Trump’s comments about Mexican immigrants. As a Mexican born American, I knew that it would take .006 seconds for me to be fired up, or at minimum annoyed about his ignorance. I want to note that I did not say illegal immigrants, because Mr.
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I was typing in a chat window the other day, when I noticed that for every single chat entry from the other person, I had two or three entries, and this made me ponder why that might be. One reason is that sometimes people I am chatting with are using smart phones (the power of
Shhh... my Soul is talking, listen. 