#Gratitude has acquired a hashtag. People are worrying if they’re #gratituding enough, if they’re doing it right. Honoring beauty can take practice, and so it deserves your patience and self-kindness. Which is, I think, the actual point of any practice.
It may be easier to see in cases like heart attacks, communicable diseases, and cancer – but it’s true across the board: there’s no place for blame in a healthy medicine.
I considered myself pretty fertility and miscarriage savvy, until last summer when I had my own miscarriage after 11 weeks of pregnancy. Then I got schooled.
So I wrote a blog post and I lost it. Is that going to change the course of the world? Am I such a middle-schooler that I believe my thoughts MATTER in an all-caps and italicized sort of way? I’m going to give that a no and a yes.
No human can operate healthfully in the modern world without news boundaries. Here’s some help putting yours up.
I hate to brag… it’s just good, old-fashioned, unbiased reporting – when I tell you that my briefcase is a metaphor for life and healing.
(This post is not going to address the acupuncture-is-BS mistaken thought, because that answer is so long it makes my fingers ache for moxa to think about typing it out. Another day, perhaps!)
Another Memorial Day has come and gone. A time when we profess to honor our service people by blowing up a bunch of fireworks. I cannot make sense of this ritual. Who is it for? I can tell you who it’s NOT for.
This topic is vast, deep, and can be the study of a lifetime. But, as the saying goes, a crazy long journey starts with a single lurch [sic.]
In general, we’re attracted to each other and share a certain sameness. In the end, we usually agree that we’d rather be under the people umbrella together than under the wild hyena umbrella or the umbrella of reproduction by budding. Things like that.