Perspective

Really great article & exercise. Wish it could be tried by everyone.


It’s unreasonable to expect others to accept or consider our perspective if we’re not willing to do the same for them. The truth is that the world isn’t really “as it is,” but as we see it, and we all see it differently!

http://www.positivelypositive.com/2012/09/25/the-power-of-perspective/

Love Thyself, Honor Thyself

I used to look in the mirror and see shapes, colors, good hair days, bad hair days, flaw, flaw, flaw. Now, I am 36, and I see myself more clearly than before. Not in a book smart way, or a scientifically accurate way, but in the sense that I have come to know ME.Some people claim that we are born with basic personality traits. Others, believe we become who we are based on experiences we have in our lives.Still others, believe we are born with traits that are switched on or off based on our personal experiences. No matter how you get there,shouldn't we KNOW what makes us, us? I think we do, but we allow ourselves to be lead astray by self-doubt,and the words of others. At what point did this happen? At what point did my voice become confused, mixed, over powered by the voices of others? At what point did I become what others thought of me, instead of who I wanted to be? When was that moment. Maybe it wasn't a moment at all. Maybe, I was worn away over time, like stone worn down by wind and rain. Reworked, and reshaped, by the elements around it until it only partly resembled its original appearance. Maybe, I too was reshaped by the voices and the elements around me until slowly, without realizing it I lost me. Now, years later, I am found. I no longer see what the mirror reflects back to me, but I see value in the uniqueness of then shapes. I see shades in the colors. I see good hair days, bad hair days, fun hair days, and days when what my hair is doing just doesn't matter. The flaws are still there. I still see them, but I also see good. I see strength, resilience, and power. Lines formed from years of laughter and tears. The voices, the elements, they are still all around me. They still creep into my head. Echo in the canyons of my mind. Trying to change my shape, challenge my shape. At times, I feel them beginning to alter me, and I must look deep within myself. If I close my eyes, quiet my mind, and repeat to myself "Love thyself, honor thyself”. Then, then the voices become whispers on a much gentler breeze, and I remember me.

Art Therapy/ Walk

For Michelle, ok more for me at Michelle's suggestion.

The Fog

It is.one of those nights again. It feels heavy. My chest is heavy, myhead is heavy with thought, my heart is heavy, and most of all my mood is heavy and gloomy. Could i be tired? I could. Is it a passing mood? Maybe. but it seems to me that ot has been moving in on me for a few weeks now. Like a slow thick fog rolls across a mountain, thwn settles into a valley to stay for a spell, encompassing and covering all that dwells there. So too has this heaviness rolled in over me and my every day, encompassing all of my thoughts, and deeds. There is a hopelessness that comes with it. A, sort of, surender to the commonness of this feeling. And yet in this serender, this lack of fight, there is a sense of freedom. A sense that this heaviness is familiar, and that the sheer knowledge that there is no use in fighting, makes it more tolerable. when the sun rises and its bright warm rays heat the valley and all with in it, even the thickest of fogs burns away.