the blog

I have many core beliefs.  One of those beliefs is the idea that  "PRACTICE MAKES IMPROVEMENT " perfect is subjective.   As I sat practicing my writing, I drifted off into my imagination, and I thought…have I always wanted to be a writer? The answer is no. I had always gravitated towards it; I kept elaborate journals and was painfully loyal to the books, quotes and articles that made me feel something; I even studied journalism in college but there wasn’t this sure feeling that I wanted to be a writer -- per se. Now, in retrospect, I see that I wanted to be a storyteller. To be CRYSTAL CLEAR , that’s different than being a writer. You can write about something and have it be informative, intelligent, and educational even. But a story teller will write something that transcends simple avenues of communication. A storyteller will connect, they will relate, they will make a difference. A storyteller is the teller of stories, they can write informative, in...

My mom and I... we are alike yet very different, probably in equal amounts. In any case, we have a special bond; she raised me, installed my buttons and sure knows how to push them.  She's a mystery, like I'm admiring a dangerous cougar in one moment and then running for dear life in the next. At this moment, it is my greatest hope to be as effective of a parent as she has been. They are supposed to love you, but more importantly, they are supposed to raise you, teach you and leave you ready to leave the nest armed with all the important life skills rendering you capable to survive and thrive. CHECK! This morning we were driving together; it was a chilly, fall morning before the sun even got out of bed. Even the sun has more downtime than her. "I'm just so tired all the time," she said. We were in conflict about what temperature the car should be, I called her a post-menopausal monster, we both ...

Please read the prologue to this letter Read ME So here’s a letter to myself, my brother, my cousin, and anyone who needs an advocate. Dear YOU, I know how you feel, (I know … we’re not supposed to tell people that because it’s insensitive,) but I’ve spent my whole life being overly sensitive and I just need to break that rule. People need to feel like they aren’t suffering alone. You aren’t ALONE. Of course I don’t know exactly how you feel. I can’t fathom the places you’ve gone and the exact amount of pain on a scale; I can’t hear your thoughts or know about your particular type of aftermath. But I can know that how you proceed—from now on—should be up to you. Your health is yours, as is your future. It should not be chosen solely by a doctor or statistic or range. How you prefer to feel should be up to you, and there are professionals with integrity out there who will help you achieve that. I had to learn to love myself, it was a process. It was the biggest, scariest...

I am someone who is naturally anxious and also someone who has survived through a debilitating phase with depression. I am someone who believes in treatment and recovery. I am also someone who has a brother who has suffered through psychosis which originated in axiety and sleeplessness. I have a cousin who took his own life. I am someone who is very much like more than a few other ‘someone(s)’ out there. I am not alone and neither are you.   I am not professional , and I AM NOT A DOCTOR… BUT I am a communicator. I have something to say about the topic of mental health. Together we can remove the stigma!  I have educated myself and want to start a conversation not just because of my personal experiences but because I feel somewhat let down. I see a world afraid to talk about mental illness and health systems world-wide which are saturated with individuals not invigorated by helping people overcome thier issues,...

The I read somewhere that people are the real lotto tickets in this life, for a long time that stuck with me, and now, I too assert it to be true. People and their beautiful souls and the little bit of good they hold onto in themselves -- they are the real deal, in this lifetime. I want to meet them all and keep them s afe in my pocket. I want to teach them things, and learn from them the things I haven't yet discovered.  And then I find myself thinking about, the people we are bound to and stuck with, FAMILY -- the ones we ache to understand and love appropriately. I think we have it all wrong though, I did. family are those people who know you, not just OF YOU... they have known you the longest and have witnessed your evolution, they've pushed it and sculpted  it at times. They have seen you before you boasted of being the kind of person a person wants to be; family has, at different times of different intentions,    lifted you up and kicke...

Sometimes the story has no ending... sometimes the story is part of everything you are forever and one day. There is no manual for running away from the circus. What a journey! I have chosen to explore a fascinating and wonderful world on an unconventional path. What a marvelous place to be when I was learning life’s many lessons. How do you look at everything you’ve created and say goodbye; how do you do it if one of those things is the fiber of you.   I’ve spent most of my life knotted and tangled in love with a version of who I could be. I have built and lost and rebuilt an identity; I don’t know how I will ever be this happy. I wonder what will make me this happy. What else will govern me? What will make me feel strong, feel determined, feel beautiful? What will make me feel so alive?   Every time I try to articulate this, I can’t. It’s too big and thick and far too real to summarize. I’ll have to walk away from this chapter and I’ll have t...

Dear You, I woke up, wiped my puffy eyes and I saw you fixing your tie in the mirror. This feeling of pure devotion came over me; I began to cry. You came over and said, “don’t be silly, it’s alright” … I think you assumed my tears were because I was leaving, in less than 24-hours, I would be on my way across an ocean and the 'long-distance' part of most love stories gets a very bad reputation. As tears delicately dropped from my chin, my mind was racing, but I was more than alright, I was feeling secure and empowered by our love story. This exact moment was one I had ached to know and suddenly it had materialized in front of me. I was wholly overwhelmed; I was massively in love, but also it was the safety and sureness that made me cry. Loving when you’re ready to love is so inspired. because that love creeps into every breath and every cell that you are. That kind of love makes you...