Archives for category: Anxiety
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Sun Shining in My Eyes

May 10, 2024 //
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This morning the sun is shining in my eyes, though I’ve lowered the window shades to cut the glare. The season continues to evolve, Spring towards summer, and here I am with the sun in my eyes on a lovely Spring morning. I’m grateful. I don’t even mind the sun in my eyes. 😀

Small wins can make big differences. My appointment yesterday had a pleasant outcome; I don’t need surgery for a thing that seemed quite a big deal (to be something so small)… and as it turns out, it’s not something I need be worried about (at least for now, and maybe not at all). Win. I’ll take it. 😀 I sip my coffee with the sun shining in my eyes, feeling grateful. No surgery looming over me. Nice. I even had a very good experience with the medical care, and the physician, generally – I’m making a point to pause to appreciate that, because it hasn’t always been the case, at all, and I’m still dragging around some baggage over that.

I sigh and smile to myself. Feels like a good morning. It’s Friday, and it’s a short work day. I’ve got a manicure appointment at noon, and then home to start the weekend. Feels good. I sit with the good feelings awhile – there’s definitely value in staying with the good feelings for a little while. I think most of us don’t even notice the way we linger in our shittiest moments, reviving them for further scrutiny over and over again (as if that’s at all helpful), then just glossing over our moments of joy and contentment as though these fleeting moments somehow have less value than the shitty ones. (Maybe don’t do that, eh?) When I finally did learn how much value there is in lingering over my small joys and simple moments of contentment or delight, and learned to savor what is good in my life, the way my life felt overall changed a lot. Instead of a fairly miserable experience of existence pocked with occasional relief that felt both too-brief, and also likely to be “a trap” setting me up for future worse misery, my life became characterized by calm and contentment, with occasional experiences of sorrow, grief, frustration, or anger. Disappointment became… a moment. Anger became… transitory. Life began to feel pretty good, generally. I still have to make a point to practice “taking in the good” and savoring the best moments my experience has to offer. I don’t avoid or dodge life’s challenges, or pretend I can “manifest” them away from being what they are – but I can cope, because I know they are temporary. Incremental change over time – becoming what I practice – has meant that my life is, day-to-day, pretty good these days. It’s nice. (10 out of 10; do recommend. lol)

How does a person even begin to make this transformation? I think it starts simply enough; anger does not easily compete with gratitude. When I find myself beginning to feel angry, I deliberately pause and consider what I’m grateful for in the situation I find myself in or with regards to the person I am angry with. It helps “turn down the heat” in that moment, and gives me a chance to regain perspective. Similarly, with sorrow, with disappointment… gratitude is a great way to balance perspective. It’s not about “faking it”; there are often legitimate details in a challenging circumstance that we may feel grateful for, if we just take a moment to consider it from that perspective. Anxiety and fear work a little differently (for me), instead of gratitude, I reach for my curiosity, and my desire to know more and understand more deeply. The point, really, is to spin the difficulty such that I’m not mired in what is most difficult, so much as viewing it through the lens of other aspects of that experience – or making a point to deliberately consider something else altogether different, that brings other emotions into play, “unsticking me” from my hurt, my anger, or other similarly painful, harder to manage, emotional experiences.

…Our emotions are not the enemy…

…And “being emotional” is not an insult. The hidden win is to develop “emotional intelligence” and reliably good skill at appropriate emotional regulation (which can be developed… it takes practice).

I smile and sip my coffee. I take a moment to enjoy my breakfast salad (how did this so easily become “a thing”? Why haven’t I always done this? I feel so good in the mornings these days…). Another weekend already here… and that means another shot (Ozempic), another weigh-in, another opportunity to reflect on progress and become aware of slow steady change. I’m counting down the days to my camping trip, too… that’d be 9 days to go, now. 😀

What defines a luxury?

I make time for early morning conversation with my Traveling Partner. We talk about the deck (needs repairs) and the hot tub (older and super noisy), and the discussion quickly becomes the sort of productive strategy and planning conversation that really brings a new project to life… we decide to shut down the hot tub “permanently” (this one, at least), in favor of removing it and replacing it after the deck is repaired (rebuilt) with improved quality of life features in mind. These are things we’d talked about when we bought the house (4 years ago), but other things (reasonably) had to come first (like the roof). Homeownership has so many qualities I love over renting – “a place of my own” being top of my personal list there – and I do love the flexibility to change things as we’d like, but … damn… so much adulting required, and effort, and commitment, and time, and money… and… I’m okay with all of it. It’s exciting and satisfying, as each project begins and finishes. My Traveling Partner has great ideas and the skills needed to bring this to life. I’m eager to help, and see how things turn out. I’m definitely a fan of replacing the hot tub with a more energy efficient, quieter model. (I’ll bet the neighbors will be too; this old thing is super noisy!) Having a hot tub feels almost non-negotiable for me at this point, though… I get so much value out of it (pain relief, improvement mobility), now we’ve just got to sort out the details…

My thoughts wander from the here and now to a future I can see but can’t touch (yet). I feel hopeful – for a lot of reasons – and grateful. It’s a good feeling. I feel wrapped in love, and fortunate to have a really good partnership that enhances my life. I’m ready to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

A Struggle With Discontent

May 8, 2024 //
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I woke feeling vaguely irritated and feeling discontented and annoyed in advance of any annoyances. Rude start to the day. I woke feeling dissatisfied… with… life? That seems pretty fucking silly, all things considered, and I spent the drive to the office turning it over in my head. There’s a song that somehow seems to fit, though I haven’t yet pinned down why that is. It’s not a new song, nor a song I’ve listened to recently… it just “speaks to me” in this peculiar moment of discontent and aggravation.

…There’s nothing “wrong” with the moment or day, so far…

…I’m just feeling annoyed. It would be much easier to deal with this and put it to rest if I understood why.

I sigh and take a breath, and exhale, and relax, letting my shoulders drop, and my jaw unclench. Weird morning.

This life of mine is perhaps not the problem at all… could be I’m just feeling the weight of the world this morning. That’s baggage no one can carry for long. I sigh again, burdened by this all too human struggle. I reach for a song that sings to a different tune, hoping to change my mind. Feelings of discontent can become corrosive, left to build and become attached to something real… That’s not an experience I enjoy. I keep “setting down my baggage” and trying to restart my moment from a new perspective.

…I find myself missing a dear friend I’d have gone to for conversation and perspective in a moment like this, and my eyes fill with tears. …There’s a hole in my heart… We are mortal creatures. I suddenly feel “wrapped in loneliness” on top of feeling discontented. Shit. That’s not what I was going for at all. (Change is.)

G’damn… I guess I really need to get away from “all of it”… except… I’m relentlessly aware that I’ll be dragging the shit griefing me most right along with me wherever I go. Fucking hell. I guess I’m just feeling low this morning. 😦 I wipe the tears off my cheeks and remind myself “this too will pass” – change is.

I sigh again (it’s just that kind of morning, I guess), and hope that my Traveling Partner got the rest he needed, and hope to get myself sorted out before the day ends – I’d definitely rather not drag this shit home with me at the end of the day.

I’m looking forward to my camping trip. Life is feeling way too busy and complicated lately, and I’m exhausted on this whole other level. Wrung out from day-to-day routine effort and the emotional burden of being a human being in a world of chaos, violence, and petty ugliness – I need a break. What do I even do when I’m camping to get that “break”? I sit quietly a lot, listening to the breezes and watching small creatures living their lives. I sit watching the leaves flutter and the changing light filtered through the trees as the sun moves across the sky. I let my mind sort of “empty out” and “catch up” on all the shit I didn’t have time to consider more fully. I walk. I wander. I take pictures of things that catch my eye, and perspectives I might like to see again, some time later. I write, mostly poetry and bits of self-reflection. I read. I meditate. It’s not fancy, and it’s not complicated by “activities” in any planned way. I’m not trying to “occupy my time” – quite the opposite, actually, I’m trying to “rest my mind” and calm my heart. I don’t know a lot of ways of doing that, or any ways more effective than just… getting away, and giving myself time.

…Soon…

Isn’t it odd that we human creatures can find so much silly bullshit to feel vexed by or annoyed over, even in the context of a generally good life? It strikes me as quite strange and rather stupid that this is the case, and I find myself wondering what purpose such a thing may have served when we were more primitive creatures seeking to make our way in the world? I make a note to ask my therapist for his thoughts on these vague feelings of discontent, and how I can potentially make use of them more constructively – with fewer tears, less sorrow, and a whole lot less aggravating stupid emotional bullshit to wade through. I roll my eyes, even as I recognize that I’m being a little hard on myself; human is human. Sometimes it’s messy, and we don’t exactly teach “dealing with emotions” to children skillfully, such that they grow up with the tools to do the job well. I’m still learning… and somehow, I persist in thinking I should be past that by now… then remember, again, that the journey is the destination, and that the point seems to be the learning, itself.

…Another sigh. A sip of coffee. A glance at the clock. Well, shit. It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, loneliness, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women

No Blue Skies Today

May 6, 2024 //
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This morning is a gray and rainy one. It’s fine. It’s the sort of rain that evokes childhood memories of waiting in the car, rain tapping the windshield and roof, or sitting gazing out a window to a rainy street daydreaming stories about passers-by, dazzled by the reflections of lights on wet pavement. I find rainy days generally pleasant, but the sound of rain does tend to make my mind wander. I sit with my thoughts for a timeless moment, watching the rain fall.

…The only thing I don’t like about a chilly rainy morning is the amount of pain I’m often in; my arthritis definitely seems to respond to the weather…

I nibble at my breakfast salad contentedly, in spite of having “no dressing” (I’d used up the last of what was on hand last week, and had completely forgotten about it). It’s fine. I drizzled a teaspoon of olive oil over the greens, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Seems adequate; it matters more that the greens are a nice blend of good quality baby greens (things like spinach, arugula, chard, small leaf lettuces) – flavorful on their own. I sip my coffee, which is surprisingly terrible this morning – but that’s fine, too. It’s honestly not worth fussing over, barely worth mentioning in passing. I’m satisfied with it; it feels like enough. Could I make fresh? Sure. Could I go get a coffee elsewhere and spend money on it? Yep. Not gonna. Doesn’t matter enough to bother with all that. It’s fine. lol

My mind wanders as I nibble at my breakfast. No rush. No pressure. A moment with my thoughts. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, though I easily hear the ventilation in the background, and a plane passing over heard, too; these definitely external sounds help prevent me from focusing on my tinnitus (which, subjectively, often makes it seem much louder). I feel prepared for the day, and well-organized. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let myself simply be here, now; a woman having coffee and a bite of breakfast before digging into the day’s work in earnest. It’s enough.

Nozomi – second to bloom this Spring.

The weekend was a rainy one, and I enjoyed taking it easy with my Traveling Partner. We spent time together on 3D printing projects, and conversation. It was a lovely weekend. I didn’t spend much time in the garden (just had a walk around once or twice), due to the fairly steady rain. It was fine, though. My time was well-spent.

I think ahead to my upcoming camping trip, which will take me away from home (if all goes as planned) for most of an entire work week (Monday through midday Friday). I know he’ll miss me. I think about things I can do to provide a sense of care and comfort for him, even while I’m away, and how best to stay connected and emotionally close while we’re apart. However much I need the solitude, myself, I am aware he gets much more of that than he needs. There’s a balance to be struck. He loves me, and recognizes I need the solitary time now and then. I love him, and recognize he needs to feel that continued sense of connection and closeness when I’m away. Love is worth learning the practices that build the skills it takes to make love last in an enduring and healthy way. (I’m still practicing, still learning, still working on becoming the woman – and the partner – that I most want to be. There are verbs involved, and my results vary.)

What are you going to do about it?

…I chuckle to myself when I recall my thoughts about this morning’s writing on my way to work; this is nothing like that. It’s strikes me humorously, simply because I often have some particular theme or idea in mind as I head to work, but once I’m here, and sitting down with the day, my head may be in a very different place. I “lose the thread” of those early morning thoughts, which sometimes vexes me, particularly if I “had it all sorted out” in my head in some way I thought worth putting into words. Other mornings, my musings – worthy or not – are less than ideally focused, or rather more negative that useful, and a few moments of meditation “puts my head right”, but throws all those earlier thoughts out in favor of … something different. That’s a bit of what happened this morning. I woke feeling, not exactly cross, just not… delighted with the day, somehow. After I sat with myself for a few minutes, listening to the rain fall, I felt fine. Upbeat. Fairly merry. Contented. It definitely changed what I ended up writing, though I’m not sure in any useful way. I’m sort of just… putting words into sentences. lol

…This is the thing, though; incremental change over time, and working through the chaos and damage, means more and more of my days are less and less “terrible”, and much more likely to be quite pleasantly ordinary – and that’s a good thing. The “excitement” of chaos and the highs and lows of living with trauma (and healing from it) aren’t the standard to strive for, at all. The point of seeking emotional wellness is to, over time, become emotionally well, which is often not particularly exciting at all, which is… fine. Quite fine.

I sip my coffee. Finish my salad. Look over my calendar for the day and the week, and check my notes from Friday. I’m ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

A Headache and a Heavy Heart

April 29, 2024 //
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I woke too early. My sleep was restless and interrupted. I finally stopped bothering to go back to sleep at 04:00 a.m. – it was just too close to when I’d typically get up anyway, so I got up, dressed, and headed into the office. Based on my mood alone, it’s a good day to go farther… just drive and drive, into the sunrise, and see where the road might take me… It’s a Monday, so that’s not really an option. Work. I remind myself that I’ve got a couple days solo coming up, camping, soon. I hold on to that idea as if with a clenched fist.

Making plans for solo time.

G’damn relationships are fucking hard sometimes. People are complicated and they need so much, and it changes so often! What matters in one moment seems unimportant in another, or in a different frame of mind, or from some other point of view at a different time. Complicate that further with individual trauma and baggage and bullshit, and… yeah… so hard sometimes. People are complicated. Me, too. It’s not reliably easy, this whole “getting along” thing… sometimes not even for lovers or devoted partners. There are verbs involved. Active listening skills to cultivate. Boundaries to set, manage, respect, be aware of. Little courtesies to offer no matter how tired we feel in the moment, or how bad we hurt inside. It gets messy, sometimes – we’re really just fancy fucking primates, with all the same poo-flinging tendencies of our ape and monkey cousins. I guess I should at least appreciate that human primates mostly fling metaphorical poo, verbal poo, and not actual turds, generally speaking.

“Lovers” 10″ x 14″ watercolor on paper 1992

I’m sipping my coffee feeling discontented and moody. I teeter between lingering anger and lingering hurt feelings. I nibble at my breakfast salad with moody disinterest in my health or fitness or frankly any other “hopeful encouraging bullshit” – that’s the kind of mood I’m in. Discouraged. Disappointed. Sad. It’s not a lack of progress; I could be celebrating progress right now, but I just don’t feel like it. I’m mired in my fucking emotional bullshit right now, thanks. I’m still eating this healthy breakfast salad, though. It’s “the right thing to do” in this moment, and I’m not going to give that up just because I’m in a snit over my relationship “difficulties” (relatively speaking, I’ve got it pretty good, and I’m probably being an ass to beef about it in the first place, I’m just in a terrible mood, dealing with lack of sleep and pain, and fucking cranky as hell).

Maybe it looks easy…but…

We more or less got the evening back on track yesterday. Shared dinner together. Watched a couple videos. There are still things we need to talk about, and omg I fucking hate that shit. I dread meaningful serious relationship-building conversations about boundaries and expectations and all-manner of fairly important “taking care of each other” details that so easily turn contentious because humans are human, and feelings are easily hurt. We too easily take too much shit too personally. We make small things over into big things, and do our best to “win” or “be right”, when what might be most productive is simply to listen and care and love each other. I’m not pointing a finger – these are generalities that most assuredly apply to me, too. (I prefer to discuss my own bullshit over anyone else’s bullshit; I know its measure very well, and it’s a helpful bit of introspection, whereas finger-pointing and blame-laying only lay the foundation for some future argument. That’s tedious and a huge waste of limited precious mortal lifetime.)

The smallest tokens of lasting affection can feel huge.

I sip my coffee. Breathe. Munch my salad. Watch gray storm clouds roiling against the background of pale morning sky. Think my thoughts and feel my pain. I think about my Traveling Partner sleeping at home and hope that he finally gets the rest he’s been needing, and struggling to get. Everything feels worse and seems harder when we aren’t getting the sleep we need. I sigh quietly to myself. I’m grateful to have the office alone this morning – I’m not fit company for other people, presently. I haven’t been sleeping well, either.

A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.

I give the day’s work an irritated look. It’s all quite routine, and I am struggling to care and to commit. Lingering malaise and ennui and irritation are vexing me, and I’m struggling to let it go. There’s a reason non-attachment is a practice; it takes quite a bit of practicing. I pick the last leaf of arugula off my plate and drag it around in the last drops of vinaigrette with a total lack of regard for forks or good manners before I eat it and set my plate aside. It can be so hard to “make space” for my feelings, to feel them, process them, and proceed to “do what’s right” nonetheless – assuming I have a good idea of what I think “right” may be in this moment in the first place. I breathe, exhale, relax, and try again to just let this shit go, properly, and move on – to allow myself to separate yesterday’s painful moment from necessary future (loving, nurturing, productive) conversations about needs, boundaries, and expectations. I sigh, and remind myself that relationship building is effort and work and commitment and also love. It’s so easy to tear down relationships (and people), and so much more worthwhile to do something to build instead – in spite of how much harder that often feels (is?).

What could be more worthy of study than communication? Even though we are each having our own experience, we are all in this together.

I give myself a minute with my thoughts and my coffee, before I begin again. I know my results will vary – but I also know that love matters most, and that we become what we practice. I definitely need more practice at deep listening, and communicating, and boundary-setting, and setting clear expectations, and being fearlessly open… and I know I can begin again, and keep practicing.

Sharing the love, and sharing the building. Destruction is far less joyful.
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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, weight loss secrets, women, Words

What Matters Most?

April 28, 2024 //
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It’s hard to care about progress toward goals with tears pouring down. It’s hard to celebrate a joyful moment in the midst of angry criticism (however legitimate or well-intentioned). It’s hard to care about anything, and for the moment, I’m mired in this experience of deep sorrow and dread. I’m “shook”. I’m triggered. I’m grievously stressed out – by the person in my life who cares for me most, and who I hold most dear, myself.

…It’s just a moment…

…Breathe, exhale… begin again…

I tell myself the things I know I need to hear. I work towards perspective – and forgiveness – and I just… still hurt. I’m still crying. It’s still fresh.

I 100% absolutely unequivocally without exception completely and entirely loathe being yelled at. I don’t respond to it well at all. Maybe it doesn’t rise to the level of someone else’s idea of yelling? Perhaps it doesn’t, but I don’t do well with the escalated hostile angry confrontational tone to something that could have been handled with kindness, humor, and love, and treated as a human moment. Was it a big deal? Not for me to decide. Clearly it was a big enough deal for my Traveling Partner to lash out at me in the way that he did.

…It’s just a moment…

He’ll probably move past it far sooner than I will be able to. I hope he does, I don’t honestly want him also hurting over it, and I’d rather see him happy and okay with himself and with life, generally. I want that for both of us. Right now… I’m alone with my tears. At some point, I’ll probably be okay, and more easily able to nurture myself, and offer him kind words and put things right somehow.

(This wasn’t “a big deal”, and there’s nothing to see here, no violence, no trauma, just expressions of temper and frustration and angry words, and emotions, and it’s unpleasant and I’m unhappy, but these experiences are also part of the human experience – we’re not perfect creatures capable of full-time rationalism uncomplicated by our feelings, ever. We are creatures of emotion and reason – and emotion always arrives to the party first.)

detail of “Emotion and Reason”, acrylic on canvas with glow and ceramic details. 2011.

I breathe, exhale, and feel the throbbing of my headache, reliably worsened by the stressful moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and although we were making light of that earlier in the day, it’s no laughing matter right now. The lack of rest has consequences for my emotional regulation. So… I’m alone with myself; the only person I know fully capable of accepting me as I am right now, and dealing with it without making it worse. (Which is a sign of real growth, and I take a moment to appreciate it that I can “be here for myself” in a way I simply couldn’t have 10 years ago.)

Fucking hell. What a shit show. People fucking suck… every one of us. So fucking human. Sometimes that really just sucks all the balls. My nerves are raw, and my emotions are in chaos. It’s a shitty place to be.

…I sit awhile “listening” to my tinnitus. It’s louder, too. It hisses and chimes and rings and buzzes in my ears while my head throbs and my heart pounds. Tears well up. My nose runs. I try not to make shit just that little bit worse by anticipating a shitty day tomorrow as a result of this shitty moment right here… tomorrow will be a new day. A new beginning. A reliable chance to reset and make choices in favor of a different experience. I’ll go to work. The routine will feel comfortable – and comforting. I remind myself this too will pass…

I take a moment for gratitude. It’s been such a lovely weekend. Rainy, mostly, but blue skies now; the sun came out at midday, and there’s a pleasant Spring breeze blowing. I got the things done I most needed to, and that I’d committed to doing. There’s still some laundry to fold, but I haven’t had to push a bunch of stuff off to another day. All of that matters, even if this moment seems to diminish it.

…I feel sad, though. As is so often the case, I was in such a lovely mood when shit went sideways. I suppose that’s likely to be the perspective any time shit does go sideways, eh? It’s probably going to feel as if “everything” has suddenly turned from golden joy and delight to … shit. I wonder how accurate that ever actually is? Was it just an ordinary moment that now seems vastly better than it was, because the moment that followed was just that bad? I think about that for a moment, and consider the nature of “perspective” and how subjective that can actually be.

The tears well up all over again, and I find myself feeling profound self-doubt about whether there’s even any value in hitting “publish” on this – whenever I finally stop writing. A missive of pain… seems… somehow tedious, or selfish, or pointless, or… just somehow lacking. I feel anhedonia lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of unsuspecting vulnerability to let that shit creep over me like clingwrap, smothering me in ennui and sadness and that horrible sense of grim futility I know so well… Not at all what I want for myself. That shit is a terrible way to treat oneself. I sigh quietly, resigned to the struggle – and the headache – and wondering how the evening ahead will unfold. For the moment, I don’t feel welcome in my home, nor even in my life. Just… sad and out of place. Like… a familiar stranger.

…There’s still laundry to fold. A partner to forgive. A moment to move on from. Water to get started drinking (you know, because of all the fucking crying). Like it or not, the way out is through, and I’d better get started… I’ve got to begin again somehow. This time, it’ll need some real work – and I know my results may vary. I’ll just start with stepping through it as a process, and trust that the process will… work.

…I miss the wise women of my lifetime… my Granny. My mother. Most particularly my recently departed dear friend. I feel so… lonely, right now. Thanks for listening, if you bothered to get this far. I appreciate it. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m just hurting at this moment, right here… and it’ll pass. Moments are quite fleeting. You’re welcome to share your thoughts – perhaps your perspective will help. No expectations, just saying; I do read the comments.

G’damn this headache, though…

…Something, something… “begin again”… it sounds empty just at the moment, but I know the truth of it… so I’ll just get started on that… What else would I do?

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women
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