soul

story + suffering + taking your power back

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Pain is part of life. There is no way around that.

Misery however, misery is not mandatory.

I've been to hell and back plenty of times and what I know to be true is that there is ONE true source of suffering:

Story.

Story is the culprit for misery. 

Story is what we believe is happening to us right now, what we tell ourselves has happened to us in the past, and the wheel turning in the mind about what might be around the corner.

Painful life experiences yield painful stories, yes. But to be stuck and engulfed in the flames of a terrible story is, well- terrible and unnecessary. When we begin to understand that pain and suffering are not inextricably linked, a whole new world opens up.

Pain is a separate entity from suffering. 

Suffering is pain, magnified. 

Magnified of course by what? Our story. 

 

Story is the meaning we give to life. 

Story is the drama we narrate between our ears and around and around in our mind. 

Story is the reason you've decided this happened to you. 

Story is the reason you've declared someone doesn't like you. 

Story is all made up. 

Story is the source of power. 

Story is YOUR source of power. 

This is a radical notion. Simple but radical. 

Life is simply a series of things that happen to us. Story is the meaning we give to it.  

 

I do not dare say story eliminates pain. Certainly it does not. Pain is an important part of life. It is an indicator, a teacher, a signal, a warning sign, and a natural response to loss.  

Story however, is the saga and drama conjured up to continually inflict harm unto ourselves, over and over and over again. 

Move out of the terrible stories you are telling yourself. 

Move into ones that create meaning and connection. 

Create stories that feel harmonious and in alignment with your soul.


Live your story but don't die from it. 

Be a master storyteller. 

This is your life, your story, take your power back. 

Invite me into your sphere.

I'll bring something of substance, every time!

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I see the beauty in Alzheimer's

For some time now, I've wanted to talk about Alzheimer's.

Not just to bitch about how it's decomposing the minds of our aged but to see the tender possibilities of connection and pure love in the most unlikely of places. 

It's true, for all who have witness a loved one deteriorate from vibrant to infantile, swim in a sea of sadness, but mostly we are confused.

How do we connect? How do we help? And how to move forward from here when moving forward actually means digressing and returning to the most basic means of human connection.

Without words, or intellect what is left? 

Touch. 

Simple touch. 

The soul lives even when we have no words to express its existence. 

Some of the most tender moments exchanged between my loved ones afflicted with Alzheimer's have been just that, an exchange of love between two souls.

 

A sweet caress of the hand. 

 

A gentle stroke of the hair.

A motherly kiss on the cheek, whispering I love you in their soft ears. 

A tear shed for the grief experienced by the inevitable toll of life. 

I believe in the power of expressing love for love has a frequency that transcends words. 

I believe an empty shell is impossible, for the soul dwells deep within.

Perhaps the aged are inviting us to remember the simplicities of connection and the importance of exchanging love without words. 

I see the beauty in Alzheimer's and I accept the opportunity to express love, care, and connection.  And I shall shed my tears as they come because mourning cannot be stifled.

 (the video below is a touching snippet capturing the connection possible)

 

Visit memorybridge.org for more on the project cited in the video above. 

Invite me into your sphere.

I'll bring something of substance, every time!

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a love note to my fellow sisters

you don't need another cream for your complexion

or to be thinner than you are

please don't ​hide your unruly, bushy eyebrows

or crooked teeth when you smile

we love you just the way you are

your freckles and wrinkles tell a story

not only of the wear and tear of life we all endure

but of the adventures you have lived

perfection is an illusion

a brutal enemy with a relentless spirit

it chases us down the road until we collapse from fatigue

where we must surrender to our beauty as it is

or get back up and keep running

Invite me into your sphere.

I'll bring something of substance, every time!

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