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Adjusting the Focus

December 17, 2022 //
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Note: this is a long one (>1500 words), figured you might want to know that before you get started. LOL

I’m on the coast with my camera for a couple days solo. I definitely need this sort of break from the day-to-day relatively frequently – one of my most easily identified regrets in life as an adult is that I waited so long to begin making a point to take this time for myself. I’m fortunate that my Traveling Partner recognizes the need, too, and supports me taking care of myself. The change in my medications has been a good thing, generally, but it also seemed to have accelerated my need to “take a couple days” to pause and reflect deeply on my experience, and to indulge in some time spent alone with my thoughts.

My timing is a bit awkward for this getaway; it’s the weekend before Giftmas. My Traveling Partner’s planned work while I am away was almost immediately derailed by a fulfillment error in a part shipped for his CNC machine; it’s the wrong part, which stalls the build entirely while he waits for that to be replaced. Fuck. Furthering his frustration, a recently added (and carefully measured & placed) outlet turns out to be in a less than ideal location (even after taking tremendous care with measuring) and has to be moved. The end result? Well, I potentially should have planned ahead for a couple days after the fucking holidays, if nothing else. …But…I really was seriously struggling to get acclimated to the new medications (and change in timing of existing medications), and I was feeling very short-tempered and cross with… just every-damned-thing, honestly, and wanted to be well away from people in general. So… good timing? Poor timing? Hard to be certain.

I visited some interesting places. The gulls at Boiler Bay were happy to pose for me.

I am certain my partner misses me. I feel very loved. His attentiveness at a time when we both expected minimal contact with each other for reasons isn’t unwelcome – and it forces me to explicitly practice reasonable boundary setting with the one human being in my life with whom I most definitely struggle to do so; my partner. He can’t see what I’m up to when I’m away, so it’s entirely on me to choose to take a look at a message, or to set my “do not disturb” setting on my phone, or set expectations that I am – or am not – available to chat. That’s not even unexpected or unreasonable; it’s part of skillful adulting. Just happens that some of the emotional debris of my trauma history results in some fairly poor boundary-setting with those closest to me, and it’s something I need to practice. Kind of a lot.

Here’s one way this matters, as an example. I won’t text while I’m driving (it’s very dangerous), so if he messages me while I’m in motion, I often find myself parking the car to respond without even checking in with myself whether the conversation even needs to happen in real-time (most often it does not, and frankly when it does he calls me so we can just talk hands-free). It can add a crazy amount of “travel time” to a short errand if I fail to communicate that I’m driving and he’s not aware that I am; he will just go on having a conversation with me that feels reasonable to him, while I seek out a parking spot every couple minutes like I’m lost or something. LOL I even know this is neither necessary nor practical; it’s something I need to work on. Just one example of why the expectation and boundary setting can matter so much. There are for sure others.

…I’m working on it…

When I am reading, writing, painting – all of which require focus – I sometimes get exceedingly frustrated with interruptions. Same when I’m “at work”, at home. Interruptions wreck my focus. This is not “a me thing”, it’s true for a lot of people (including my partner, when he’s reading, or doing complex calculations, or taking measurements). Interruptions break focus. Well… who “owns” that? I think if a clear boundary and clear expectations have been set, the person doing the interrupting owns that shit, and it’s pretty rude (if there’s no actual emergency). More often than not, though, I find that I’m the one who has erred in some way, by failing to ensure that I have set a clear expectation that I’m not available, along with a reasonable explicit boundary established with regard to interruptions of specific sorts of things. It’s for sure not reasonable to be irked with someone who did not know I was engaged in focused work, or needing to be left alone awhile, if they interrupt me unaware of those details.

In more succinct terms, if I don’t silence my ringer it’s not fair to be annoyed with a person who calls me at a bad time; I had another option that would have preserved my focus!

My earliest beach walk began at “first light”.

Yesterday, in the morning, I left for the coast before dawn. I arrived far earlier than “early check-in” for my hotel room (because the prior night’s guest hadn’t even checked-out yet). I spent the morning walking beaches and taking pictures, and in between I drank coffee while warming up in my car. Chilly morning. I drank 3x as much coffee as I generally do, and I expected I’d most likely messed up my sleep, later, but… nope. I checked into my room before 1 p.m., and managed to crash twice for longish naps, and then still went to bed early (like, for real early – around 7:30 p.m.). I slept deeply, waking around 3 a.m. to pee and immediately went back to sleep.

I made a point of snapping a picture of the holiday lights on the restaurant near the hotel during the wee hours. (It’s not a great picture; I was half asleep and never put on my glasses!)

I woke feeling quite rested, around 7 a.m. or a little after, around the time my Traveling Partner woke and pinged me a greeting. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised by how much I slept if I had felt that I was exhausted, or had felt deeply fatigued. Lacking those sensations, it caught me a bit by surprise to sleep so much. Still… it’s my time, my hotel room, I guess I can do what I like (within reason), including sleep the day away, which I definitely feel like I did, although my fitness tracker logged almost 7 miles of walking before noon. LOL

It’s been exceedingly pleasant (even luxurious) to have so little contact with other people for a couple days. The loudest sound in this hotel room is my fingers on this mechanical keyboard. (My tinnitus is infernally loud, too, but no one else would ever hear that.) The hotel staff go about their business. We don’t exchange words, just smiles; I’ve come here before and they are very respectful (and friendly if approached). I’ve managed to enjoy this trip to the coast without conversation beyond “can you fill it with regular please” or “16 oz Americano, please”. Yesterday was sunny. Today is gray and overcast. I spent yesterday sleeping (and walking and taking pictures). I’ve spent today meditating and writing (and walking and taking pictures). Time well spent all around, and mission mostly accomplished.

…I miss “home” (already), and take a few minutes to reflect with immense gratitude that I experience that feeling when I am away from the house I now live in. It’s already very much “home” – and filled with love, and memories of love, and the presence of this other human being who is so incredibly dear to me. I feel my heart fill up with my affection for my partner and spill over as “happy tears”. I am struck by how easily even the thought of this human being I love so deeply can move me with just the recollection of the love we share. That’s powerful. I miss him greatly any time we are apart – even when we are apart specifically because I just need to be alone for a while. It’s part of who I am. I am grateful that I’ve learned how to meet that need, and grateful to have a partner who “gets it”. I chuckle when I consider how often I do return home earlier than I had planned to, when I have gone, simply because I am so eager to be in the good company of my partner again. How very human. 🙂

Same location, different visit.

I watch the tides rise and fall on each of these trips to the coast. I am amazed by how much the view changes with each visit. The seasons change. The sunrise and sunset changes. The hour of the day for the high or low tide varies. The weather, too. Each detail paints the picture anew. I sip my now-cold coffee and think about that. So many variables. So many small details. I keep expecting to become bored with a single view or perspective. It hasn’t happened yet. I return to some locations with every visit just to see the view with “new eyes” on a different day. There’s something here worth understanding more deeply. I make a note on the notepad I’ve kept with me on this trip, and let my thoughts wander on.

I reflect awhile on the things that have held me back in life. Some of these were pure circumstance, others clearly my own doing or decision-making, few of them were the sort of non-negotiables that were unavoidable or immutable. I’ve had an enormous part to play in where I’ve landed in life. When I’ve chosen wisely, I’ve done well. When I’ve chosen poorly, I’ve often paid the price in consequences. This seems reasonable and “proper”, but when I reflect with care, deeply and honestly, and quite thoroughly, there have also been situations in which my good fortune “over-compensated” for my poor decision-making, and I’ve found my life improved thereby, anyway. Other times, seemingly good decision-making and actions that could be viewed as necessary, appropriate, or “right”, nonetheless resulted in… consequences of a wholly problematic sort. I have had an “enormous part to play” in where I’ve landed in life…but it’s also been a matter of “luck” more often than I can count, and some cases it’s been the help of friends or associates, or… just a coincidence that I’ve done as well as I have. Sometimes I’ve found myself standing in some unexpected moment in life struck by how unprepared I am to be there. Other times, extraordinary happenstance still manages to feel quite… ordinary. It’s hard to know in the moment which events are truly significant and meaningful, and which are simply future memories. Sometimes, when I’ve thought I was being “held back”, the passage of time has revealed how fortunate I really was to follow the path I did. Perspective has proven its worth more than once.

…My mind wanders on…

When I sat down with my notes this morning, I had some specific things I wanted to consider. I walked the beach with my camera and my little notepad, thinking, walking, pausing now and then for a tidepool, a bird, or an interesting rock. I don’t know that I “got anywhere” specific – but I wasn’t following a map, or hiking a trail with a destination, or running an errand. I was, frankly, as much as anything, just giving myself the space and time to really “hear myself think”. Was I successful? In every way I that I needed to be, sure, I think so. Is this bit of writing the outcome of all that? Mmm. Doubtful. Not in any clear cause & effect practical sense. I wasn’t seeking to develop a plan of action, or practice a specific practice, or write an essay on a topic. I just needed, rather earnestly, some solitary time to hear myself and to just be, quite as I am, without any sense of needing to chase a change or measure up to a standard. In that sense, it’s been a wildly successful bit of time away. Would a get away of this kind do wonders for you? No idea, honestly, and I’m sure it kind of depends on how well (or poorly) you are able to enjoy some solitary time – maybe that’s not your thing? Maybe you hate being absolutely alone? Your results would surely vary. Hell, my results vary and I greatly enjoy my solo time away, any chance I get make.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I check my oxygen. 99%. Nice. I take a moment to “feel where I’m at”, physically. Headache? It’s there, but not distracting. Arthritis pain? Managed. Posture? Yeah, okay. I notice it’s not great and “pull myself upright”. I gaze out the window across the mud flats of Siletz Bay – the tide is pretty low. There are a variety of water birds enjoying that, including a couple of larger birds – some kind of crane, and a heron. The gulls have taken their fun elsewhere for now. The water is flat, smooth, and very calm (what I can see), though I know if I step to the patio door and look out toward the ocean, I would see the waves gently kissing the shore.

I take a moment to reflect on a past that no longer wholly defines me (or holds me back) and to wonder what the future may hold, without becoming stranded in either. I sit quietly with my thoughts, poised in this “now” moment feeling fairly prepared to just “go with it” – whatever “it” may turn out to be. It’s a nice alternative to catastrophe, chaos, and despair. I breathe. In, then out. Then again. Some minutes later, I realize I slipped into meditation, fingers still poised carefully on the home row of the keyboard, expectantly. I’ve got a book (a couple, actually) that I also want to spend some time (reading)…

…Seems like a good time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships

Are You Even Ready to Be “Happy”?

December 3, 2022 //
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It’s a good Saturday morning. I’m listening to Megan Thee Stallion reminding me to be who I am without fear or shame. Easier to do when my anxiety isn’t a major problem, and my pain is well-managed. Today is a pretty good day. My recent doctor’s appointment was… surprisingly productive? Better than typical? I feel… hopeful. I’m also on new medication (not even a psych med intended directly for my anxiety, it’s a beta blocker that addresses some of the symptoms that follow prolonged chronic anxiety like my blood pressure). I’m pleased that it is, so far, actually helping – it’s even obvious to both me and to my Traveling Partner. We’re comfortably hanging out again without triggering each other, and without him seeming actually “allergic to me”. It’s super encouraging when medicine works.

It was important for me to be able to give my doctor an opportunity to treat me. To be open to change and to success – and sometimes that’s a more complicated detail than I am aware of. Learned helplessness over time, frustration with prior failures, anger and frustration, these can all get in the way of treatment (whether for physical or emotional ailments). I went to that appointment way more prepared for more frustration and failure than to communicate openly and honestly with my physician, and to be clear and purposeful in that communication. I got a lucky break by way of my relationship with my Traveling Partner. He was rather unpleasantly insistent that I specifically communicate some details to my doctor that he felt were especially relevant from his perspective. I could have dismissed that; my body, my doctor, my health & treatment! The thing is, though, he was on to something – I tend to minimize my own health concerns. It’s a long-standing bad habit developed during military service. “Go hard.” “Be strong.” “You’re a fighter.” “Don’t be a pussy.” “Endure and adapt.” I mean, that’s all fine for soldiers heading into a deployment, but, um, less than ideal in one’s relationship with a physician seeking to develop a good treatment plan for legitimate health concerns, for fucks’ sake. So. In spite of some internal resistance, I made a list. I literally read it off to my doctor, and answered her questions about each item. It was a tad comical, I found, but… I’m also on a new medication we’d never discussed previously, got a bunch of new lab work done (and have a plan to also adjust my thyroid medication based on the outcome of some of those tests), got a referral for a CT scan of my head (looking your way 8-year-headache – we’re coming for you!), and further, even got her wholehearted support of also treating my anxiety more directly (and a commitment to reach out to the clinician supporting that appointment, which is next week, to confirm which options are a good fit for the new medication).

I’m feeling myself this morning. I feel self-assured, comfortable in my skin, and happy to be who I am in this moment. Cardi B “gets it”. I’m not wealthy. Not focused on money all that much. It’s the wholesome (and obvious) confidence that resonates with me. When I am the woman I most want to be, I’m not mired in doubt – I know me. That’s what I want for myself, like, all the time; to rest comfortably in a sense of myself. Self-doubt is an insidious poison. I grin when She turns up in my playlist. I love the confidence of these women. I find myself thinking back to a younger version of the woman in the mirror… I wonder where Megan Thee Stallion will be as a woman of 50? 60? What about Cardi B? Where will their power rest when they are adult women farther along in their lives? Will it be in their financial power and economic influence? Politics? Intellectual endeavors? Philanthropy? How will they change the world from the other side of menopause? When life is less about a WAP than it is about knowing who they are and being that woman?

This coffee is good…

In 191 days I’ll be 60. Fucking hell, and still working to improve my mental health, resolve my chronic anxiety, ease the symptoms of my PTSD, improve my fitness and physical wellness, and become the woman I most want to be. The clock is ticking, eh? It’s a hell of a journey. I make a point of mentioning it because although I’ve made a ton of progress… I’m still walking this path, and there’s still a long way to go. It’s not “easy”. It’s not “certain”. Success is not a given. There’s no report card at intervals. There’s no trophy at the end of the journey. Is it worth the effort? For sure. It definitely has been. The incremental improvements are so very worth it. Yes, I still find myself frustrated, angry, or blue over ancient pain. Yes, I still find myself occasionally mired in my chaos and damage. Yes, there are still tears and they still fall. I’m just saying – don’t give up on yourself. You matter and you have so much to offer the world – and yourself. Get the help you need. Make small steps. Progress so infinitesimally immeasurably small is still progress and it will still get you somewhere, and it adds up over time. There will be interesting “a-ha moments” when you notice how far you have come, and how different (and better) life feels. There are verbs involved. Your results will vary. No one else can do the work for you. Just keep at it, okay?

Begin again. And again. One practice at a time, one step forward from a bad place, one new decision in favor of your wellness… it adds up, I promise you. Your darkest nights will be followed by a dawn – and a new day. (I mean, we’re mortal, so… yeah, but that’s a different conversation.)

It’s a cold Saturday morning late in the Autumn. My arthritis is bothering me. I took my Rx a bit earlier than I would on a work day, putting my self-care ahead of any other consideration today. Later I’d like to get a walk in, once the sun is fully up, and the day a bit warmer. The holiday tree is up and decorated. There is a Giftmas plum pudding steamed and aging for the celebration ahead. It’ll be a modest holiday this year; we have chosen to put our attention and money elsewhere this year (without resentment or regret), and I’m still eager to bake shortbread, to enjoy the lights and the carols, and to spend this time with my loving partner. It means so much to have that option, and to feel so well-loved. 🙂

I’ve rambled long enough – it’s time to finish this coffee and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

Words & Using Them

November 28, 2022 //
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I woke in a cold sweat this morning, heart pounding, feeling that sensation of “being late” and feeling massive amounts of anxiety over that very subjective (and in this case wholly illusory) feeling. There wasn’t anything at all amiss. I was not “late” – and didn’t have anything scheduled on my calendar with other people on this particular work day, to even be late to. I got up and took a leisurely shower before greeting my Traveling Partner (already awake, though I didn’t realize it when I got up) figuring I’m might be walking around in a cloud of stress pheromones. His greeting was soft, pleasant, and merry. I made coffee. We enjoyed taking our morning coffees together. It was quite lovely.

…My anxiety was pretty serious that entire time, though I initially said nothing about it. I could feel myself fighting with the physical features of anxiety while we chatted over coffee together: tight chest, shortness of breath, feeling vaguely nauseous, increased awareness of arthritis pain, a subtle feeling of having trouble breathing – and a not-so-subtle feeling of wanting to bolt from the room. I kept “letting it go” – more accurately, I kept suppressing it each time it surged, hoping it would just go away. Finally, I mentioned it out loud. Just observing the experience, and sharing those observations with my partner. We talked a minute or two about the anxiety, then moved on to other topics. I noticed every few minutes after that, my partner kind of “checked in” on how I was feeling, what he could do to assist, what kinds of things were adding to my feeling of pressure or anxiety? I shared and we talked, and the morning seemed fine honestly. No tears or tantrums, no escalation of some small misunderstanding. No impatience. No frustration. Just two adults aware of each other’s baggage and limitations helping each other through dealing with that shit – together. It was… productive? That seems to under sell the value in just speaking up in an open and trusting way. But, sure, let’s go with “productive”. My day was off to a good start.

I decided to go to the co-work space to work, just based on how bad my anxiety felt, and my desire to work skillfully in spite of it – which I know can potentially reduce my ability to interact with others comfortably, and I for sure did not want to start my partner’s work week mired in my bullshit & baggage. We missed each other almost immediately… and also found ourselves each working on our own work at a high level of efficiency. Win.

It can be seriously uncomfortable to talk about how we feel. Emotions can be complex and very subjective. Individually, we’re not all equally comfortable with emotions (our own, or other people’s). Still worth it. I feel like I understood myself a bit better, and that my partner understood me better, too. Worth it, worth it, worth it.

…Then I began again, and it was easier, and the day so far has been a good one.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

Coffee in a Can

November 2, 2022 //
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I am sipping iced coffee from a can, listening to a song that suggests I have some tea. Of these two juxtaposed experiences, the music is by far the better choice of the two. lol This is a thing to know about choices; the results vary. I still got to choose. 🙂

I woke early. Too early. Early enough to leave the house (early) and miss the morning commuter traffic into the city. It’s a Wednesday. I go in to the actual office each Wednesday. This, too, is a choice I make. Funny thing about choices; they feel different from circumstances that are imposed upon me. That commuter traffic? Dense and unpleasant and very stressful – if I have to endure it. Interesting to me is how much less stress I feel over commuter traffic going into the office once a week by choice. I shrug it off. I take my time. I relax and comfortably remind myself there is no hurry. I plan my evening around the longer commute time, and come home with take-out, or run an errand on the way. This morning, the lack of traffic at that early hour was a lovely change, so much so that the drenching downpour along the way did nothing to add stress to the drive (though it often would). Just a woman driving a car in the pre-dawn darkness on a rainy morning. Nothing to see here.

…When commuting is forced on me as a requirement of my employment, the seemingly endless hassles of the traffic, shitty drivers, and time pressure mount up day by day, worsening as each week progresses, becoming a thing to dread, and a source of lingering background stress, anxiety, and disappointment in my fellow human beings (some of whom clearly ought not be licensed to drive at all, based on what I’ve seen on the roads). It’s one of the things that nudged me in the direction of working remotely; that commuter traffic was a massive looming source of ongoing stress that I could choose to avoid.

So. I’m in the office early. I am alone – first in. I make coffee for folks who will arrive shortly. I grab “a cold one” – canned coffee – from the fridge in the break area. I sit down to write, feeling relaxed and comfortable. It’s a pleasant start to the day. I’m sufficiently relaxed to think about anxiety. LOL I give myself a moment with that thought.

A coworker’s heavy fragrance – classic, French, expensive – arrives seconds ahead of the sound of conversation, as she enters the work area with a colleague. The smell of rain follows them from the elevator. I feel a moment of appreciation and gratitude; the restroom is down that way near the elevators, also – the results could be much less pleasant than perfume and petrichor. LOL We all exchange smiles and greetings, and the morning feels merry as the presence of colleagues signals the start of the work day.

It’s time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices

Unwanted Hand-Me-Downs

October 9, 2022 //
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“Lazy” Sunday morning sipping coffee, feeling the lift of recent inspiration, and contemplating a recent discussion with my Traveling Partner on the topic of “second hand stress”. It’s a thing, Google it. (I got 462 million hits on that search term, with the first page of links mostly being pretty useful and informative – at least as of October of 2022). Here’s one article. My partner shared this one with me. I found it decently informative, with some useful suggestions for observing and managing second hand stress. Cures? lol. No. There is no “cure” for stress, if by “cure” you mean “some reliable means to wholly and permanently eliminate the subjective experience of stress”. That’s not a thing. Stress, in general, is something we experience for reasons. It has a purpose. There is no “make it go away” approach that suits every need in every moment, there just isn’t. I definitely recommend letting go of that notion. It’s not helpful.

“Anxiety” 2011

Learning to differentiate between stress (and anxiety) that rises to the level of becoming disordered, from the useful experiences of stress or anxiety that could prompt us to make a change, follow through on circumstances, or move away from danger, is an important bit of growth and personal development. For those of us with already-identified anxiety disorders of one sort or another, it becomes doubly critical to be able to distinguish between needed, useful, “positive” stress, and the chronic disordered sort that creates so much chaos and unpleasantness. Saying so doesn’t make it easier. (Keep practicing.) It’s fucking hard.

Learning to skillfully practice non-attachment and to avoid becoming fused with the emotional states of those around us is another incredibly useful (necessary?) skill for managing stress and anxiety. This is definitely an area that I personally need improvement on (for real). The very same love that draws me to my Traveling Partner and fills me with such delight and warmth and affectionate regard also (sometimes) sucks me into the trap of becoming fused with his emotional state – and when that emotional state happens to be one of frustration, annoyance, anger, sadness, or other “negative” emotional experiences, it can result in my becoming mired in despair and sorrow, or fear, or feelings of inadequacy (when I find myself unable to “fix it” for him). That is the sort of thing that can quickly build a mood-wrecking spiral of emotions in our relationship, as we trigger each other, back and forth, our individual experiences of anxiety and stress feeding on each other and just making things so much worse. Becoming skilled at emotional non-attachment without having to “run away” from an uncomfortable experience has the added result of making us that much more able to support one another.

…I gotta work on that…

Listening deeply is a skill that can be helpful for sorting out whether an experience of stress and anxiety is entirely my own… or a mix of my own and my partner’s emotional experience, or actually just nothing to do with me at all. Sometimes it is hard to listen to someone (particularly my partner) tell me that I’m causing their unpleasant emotional experience – but that doesn’t take away from the truth of it. Sometimes that’s just real, and saying so has nothing to do with intention or blame-laying. On the other hand, it’s their emotional experience, and regardless of cause that’s theirs to manage.

Because love matters more. “Emotion and Reason” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details and glow 2012

We’re each having our own experience. We each have our own “emotional climate” and “emotional weather”. We each live our own life, alongside those we love. We are not the being others see us as; we’re who we are. Individual travelers on life’s sometimes-shared journey. The perceptions of others don’t necessarily align with our perceptions of our self. Similarly, those people so dear to us, that we love so much..? They aren’t who we think they are, or even who we see them as; they are their own unique self, independent of our impressions, experiences, assumptions, thoughts, or recollections. Funny how often we think we “know” someone “better than they know themselves” and funnier still how rarely that is actually true. Worth thinking about.

The tl;dr? “Second hand stress” is a real thing. Our partners deal with it. We deal with it. Our colleagues deal with it. We deal with it. Every one of us. All the time. Our results vary. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Let it go.

…Begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Big 5, Words
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