A well-intentioned woman I barely know hinted that she viewed me as neutral on the issues facing our world. This was a fascinating comment. Not upsetting, but intriguing. Her comment was based on what she knows of me from social media. 

It is said that the eyes are the window to the soul, but what if the feet were actually the doorway to the divine? These ideas point to a deeper way of experiencing the world, and so there is usefulness in imagining they both could be true. 

Do you believe anyone is entitled to offer you criticism and/or feedback on your writing? 

It’s been a couple of weeks since I returned from India. I am, for the most part, recovered from international and perhaps interdimensional travel. 

It is day 13 of 35 in Mysore, India. The trip here went fine, except that it was brutally long and uncomfortable. My apartment is centrally situated in the famed Gokulam yoga neighborhood. The small studio is simple, clean, and comfortable, and it's right down the street from the yoga shala where I practice every morning. The neighborhood is upper class, with Indian style stone mini-mansions and gorgeous, loungy, vegetarian cafes. The weather could not be more perfect - warm and breezy. It’s easy to get around, and so far, almost everyone has been polite and helpful. So all of my root chakra basic needs are met. Safe and sound. Check. 

As you may know, I'm an advocate for overcoming fear and speaking the truth about lived experiences to promote healing. I wrote a blog a while back sharing some of my insights on this topic, and here are some more insights based on recent developments. 

I had a flu that lasted for over two weeks. During that time, I scrolled the news at the rate of an IV drip—a temporary fever-induced endorphin addiction.  The surreal images of world leaders flashed in my mind like a dark circus. The wrinkles between my eyes deepened. 

In the darkest moment, there is a reason to hope.  

If I could choose to go to lunch with any celebrity(s), I would choose Jonathon Van Ness, Cheryl Strayed, and Elizabeth Gilbert. I would like to dine with all of them at once. One big brunch. Here is why I choose these three. 

As my life shifts and changes, I desire to become more empowered and conscious about how I use social media and I wanted to share some of what I am going through.  I’ll share three questions I have been asking myself and journaling about, which are leading me in a nice direction. 

Since I started writing and sharing the truth related to my healing journey, I have heard people say various versions of this, “I don’t need to hear, know, or read about other people’s trauma.” 

Last spring, I shared my favorite end-of-the-year adrenal fatigue rescue remedies, and I can hardly believe it; it is already time to prepare a cold kit for the return back to school. I am a speech therapist and choose not to wear a mask because the mouth is a pretty important part of my job. Yes, kids with cute little lisps occasionally spit onto my face. Sometimes, I can see the little droplets floating towards me in slow motion and feel them land. It’s part of the job. Saliva. Sneezes. Snot. Spit. The 4 S’s of being an SLP.  Communication difficulties can make you self-conscious, and these young ones need good support and deserve respect and dignity, making the spit and inevitable seasonal flu an acceptable part of the job for me.