Connection/Connect — to join, link or fasten together; unite or bind. To establish communication between; put in communication. To associate mentally or emotionally. To be in harmony with another person, one’s work, etc.
During this strange time in our history when being safe and healthy means keeping physical distances, I have found myself contemplating what it means to connect or be connected. A re-examination of sorts. And honestly, this is a re-examination that has been wanting for quite some time and not just because of a global pandemic.
Why is it there a need to be physically near someone in…
Human connection is an energy exchange between people who are paying attention to one another.
How do we transmit or exchange that energy? Is it through the words we speak? Do our gestures, physical contact such as a hug, handshake or eye contact play a part in the exchange of energy? What about music or sharing memories? Is it all of the above?
Furthermore, what makes human connection authentic?
As we all sit within this bubble of pandemic pause, a myriad of scenarios have come to the surface. Most of which involve an acute awareness of self and our surroundings…
Underestimating solitude’s value in a pandemic has revealed much about our fears of self.
Definition of Solitude: The state of being or living alone; seclusion: to enjoy one’s solitude. A remoteness from habitations, as of a place; absence of human activity, the solitude of the mountains.
It is difficult to enjoy solitude when it is forced and feels more like jail. But time and reimagining one’s perspective, is prompting many to realize that forced change is, at times, the only way to change.
Fears of solitude has come to roost. What is it about being in solitude that is so…
I recently watched a 2015 National Geographic documentary series entitled “Who is God” hosted by Morgan Freeman. His mission was to travel around the world tracing the evolution of the belief in God. He met with religious leaders of many faiths as well scholars. One of many questions he explored was how do religions define the Apocalypse.
The discussions fascinated me. As a non-Christian, I do not pretend to be versed in the bible. From what I do understand, the book of Revelations describes the Apocalypse as the complete and final destruction of the world. …
In my early 30’s I worked with a therapist when I needed help with some relationship dilemmas. At the base of those dilemmas were my unrealistic expectations of others, a common toxic thread in many relationships and daily life. The therapist caught on quickly that avoiding my personal quandaries led me to judge the actions and characteristics of others. My judgements were a mirror of my own denied and undesirable traits. Furthermore, when I was not able to live up to my own standards, I judged others in hopes of raising myself up.
Standard human behavior.
The community I grew…
A constant stream of emotions, ruminations, ideas, fears, running through my mind. A mind that does not seem to rest.
Lately, I have been doing more than my usual iteration of commiserating and over-analyzing life. My morning routines of working out and taking my dog for a long walk which are meant to provide calm and set a foundation for the day, do not seem to be adequate. It has been difficult to stay in the moment. I have allowed myself to veer off that course. The desire to just be, is proving much too arduous right now. …
Hozho — a concept found in Navajo Native American culture. This idea references the interconnectedness between beauty, harmony and goodness in all things physical and spiritual. Resulting in health and well being for all things and beings.
In education, Hozho is a construct that asks the learner to embrace their surroundings, actions, interactions and their being. In addition, focuses on spirituality and self awareness, being a part of the universe.
A strive for balance.
As my daughter struggles with her substance use disorder, she is on a continual journey, opening up and feeling the underlying beauty of her experiences. With…
The good, the bad, the unexpected, the mystery, the fear, the joy of observing my daughter’s growth is beyond anything I would have ever imagined.
I spent years saying I did not want children. My first pregnancy I chose to terminate because it was not my time for many reasons.
When the time came, my spouse bragged about how calm I was during those 9 months. No outbursts of anger or frustration when something did not go my way. I chose to keep myself on an even keel, for our unborn child.
Being overly calm may have been a need…
Anger wells up.
My heart pounds faster.
Harder than usual.
My head fills with steam.
The full steam of all my regrets.
Ready to spew out
into the wide open.
Only the wide open isn’t real.
It is the bubble that
The bubble that keeps me
from telling the truth.
Truth about what I am feeling.
I want to hit something.
A punching bag would do.
Needs to be a soft target.
Something that can absorb my punch.
And as I retract my fist
I reflect on the dent made.
Reflecting on the felocity of the punch.
When I was younger, everything in my closet coordinated so I would not have to think too long or too hard about what to wear. There were far more dire issues I faced daily, so simplifying what I could, was essential. Making sure there were enough outfits so I did not wear the same thing within a week was a bizarre, but routine essential as a teenager and young adult. Accessories were a luxury. I learned to choose my wardrobe carefully.
I set out to create a sanctuary of the essentials in my living spaces, as well. I took pride…