Doing therapy is therapy for me. I genuinely love knowing about other people’s perspectives. Selfishly, it helps me make sense of things—- but, then I go where they are, and I tell them the gifts I see in them and around them. It feels beautifully mutual. What I get to do every day, it motivates me and balances me. I guess that’s what happens when you do something you’re passionate about… and that’s pretty cool.
xo.
On a Monday, when joints ache…
…The swelling ravenously seeks to inhabit more than just the gut- finding shelter in fingers and toes.
The steady flow of gastric acid begins again—
After (only) 48 hours of accidental non-compliance.
The proton pump is back in full force…
…The long-term effects of shutting it off barely studied, and willingly ignored.
It is not difficult to imagine that there is black powder traveling down my esophagus… shortly meeting with charcoal, sulfur, and potassium nitrate.
The pyrotechnic display cannot be witnessed…
… but it can surely be felt.
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I wrote that yesterday… while stuck in my physical self.
As a person who believes in living in the moment, I couldn’t help but wonder… What if that moment is literally painful?
A client today compared me with a man with no legs or arms, who still lives life to the fullest (you may have seen his book with him on the cover, Life without Limits)…
She said, “You live like that, you aren’t a victim.”
I needed that. My own self-talk wasn’t being as kind.
… and a friend sent me this quote today…
With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts.
- Eleanor Roosevelt
Yesterday’s hurt can be today’s gratitude… if we allow it.
xo.
