Cutting Down the Tall Poppies

You may be able to relate to these thoughts.  You are at your exercise class and you can’t help but zero in on the one person present that doesn’t seem to sweat.  Her moves are effortless, completely graceful and actually beautiful to observe.   I on the other hand grab a sweat rag because I drip rather than glow as soon as I exert any effort!  For a few seconds I think I hate that seemingly tight bodied perfect woman!

A few more seconds go by and I stop hating her as my thoughts lighten and move toward gratitude.  I feel a sense of awe at her dedication and while I know nothing of her personal story, she works hard at staying healthy.  I applaud her.  I am inspired by her.  I want to be more like her! I’m in love with the perfect girl!

But what if I didn’t let my hateful feelings evaporate?  My stinging annoyance would build into burning resentment and soon all of my thinking would be TOXIFIED.  Unknowingly, the woman becomes the target of my rage – the dartboard for my dart. 

This is an example of Tall Poppy Syndrome. According to the illustrious Wikipedia, it is defined as a pejorative term primarily used in Anglosphere nations to describe a social phenomenon in which people of genuine merit are resented, attacked, cut down, or criticized because their talents or achievements elevate them above or distinguish them from their peers.

I can relate to being the Tall Poppy.  Being a former beauty queen, you would think I would be comfortable about my appearance but I still have trouble accepting a compliment!  I feel far more comfortable hiding in a group – wanting to be average. Please know me as smart, not pretty! I wanted to be beige as to not attract too much attention.  I was fighting against my need to shine because somehow shining was and is too dangerous.

I wanted to known by you but not seen by you. I’m complicated that way.

Over the years I have become comfortable in my own skin.  I could really appreciate how Selma Hayek said in an interview with Oprah, “You simply have to be who you are.  Yes, I am beautiful.  I have thighs and a butt. I have cellulite.  I fight with it every day.  I don’t exercise.  I eat pork and I love red wine.  But yes, I am beautiful and famous—and yet the things I like about myself have nothing to do with that…..”  YES!  She is more than her looks or her fame.

Last week a friend asked me how I managed to remain so positive despite years of struggle.  She said, “You make life look so easy and sometimes I just have to hate you.”   We laughed and I deeply appreciate her honesty.  I told her that I still have days when I can’t get off the couch because my emotions overwhelm me but in general I have developed some pretty good coping...

If Your Happy and You Know it Thank Your Ex!!!

There was something electric in the air last Sunday.  Everywhere I went I received a healthy amount of attention—both male and female.  I had on jeans with a simple top, little make up and my hair had that “just blown in from the beach” look (aka three days without a shampoo).  I was out and about, enjoying the company of friends after an afternoon dance workshop. I wasn’t dressed to impress by any means.

At a restaurant, an older gentleman sauntered over to ask me, “Do you always wear clothing to match your eyes?   Your eyes are like Blue Diamonds. I am going to call you that, Blue Diamond!”  I was flattered (I have a soft spot for sweet old men) until I realized Blue Diamonds sounds like a cleaning product — it is also a brand name for dog food so I am feeling less inclined to monogram my towels “B.D.”  Still, that old geezer meant well.  Such a cutie!  You have to give him credit for coming over to chat.

Another man approached me to tell me that while he now has a girlfriend, he was guilty of having a crush on me for the last two years.  He said, “The moment I looked into your eyes I felt a connection with you! I’ve always hoped we could get together but now I’m taken.”  I paused and smiled.  I practiced looking happily surprised rather than creeped out.  It was a chance to practice kindness.  I graciously thanked him and wished him a very long and healthy relationship.  Mazel tov.  Invite me to your wedding!

My favorite moment of the day was when a gentleman came over and said, “I’ve been watching you and how people react to you.  You really light up the room.  I wanted to come over and tell you.”  I was momentarily speechless.  (a rare moment, huh?) This was an impressive conversation starter and I was hooked.  We continued to chat for another twenty minutes about topics that I love such as authenticity, positive energy and the advantages of living gratefully.  How refreshing to have a real conversation with a stranger, especially a man!  And then he left me, never asking for my phone number nor commenting about my eyes.  Wait, don’t you like my eyes?   LOL

Why was this conversation the best part of my day?  Yes it was flattering to be approached but the BIG reason is that this stranger confirmed that the work I do internally is manifesting externally.  My happiness is showing!

For years I wanted to be seen as the perfect wife, the dedicated mother and the consummate professional because I equated success in those roles with a happy life.  It is not an easy formula.  I was handing over my happiness to the “other half” of the equation; the husband, the child, the job!

Years later I realize that I am not going to be happy unless I...

My positive, supportive, wise inner voice!  She is my advocate.  She is invested in the “authentic me”.

As Promised!

Last week I wrote about how I wanted to find an image to illustrate the concept of My Girlfriend Voice.  Here is how I see this wonderfully positive, supportive and wise woman who resides in my Soul.  This is what I see today and perhaps the look will change with the seasons……. Putting a face with a name helps me connect with her!

What does your Girlfriend Voice look like?

In this moment, she is telling you that you are beautiful and everything you need to be.  You are good enough.  You are a gift to the world!  Can you hear her speaking to you?

From the heart,

Cara

The latest cover of Psychology Today says “Your Inner Voice; How to Talk to Yourself and Why it Matters”.  I feel so validated!  My Girlfriend Voice is my Inner Voice—the positive inner voice—she keeps me safe and sane.  She helps drowned out the cacophony of critical voices ruminating in the back corners of my mind.  Can you believe there was no mention of me in the article?  (LOL- I talk and laugh at myself!  So there!)

One of the key findings in the article is that HOW you conduct your inner monologue influences the success level of the tool.  It says in lieu of using “I”, let your inner voice call you by name, i.e. “Caramia, you need to give yourself the same compassion you give to others.” The work of Dr. Ethan Kross cites that when you personalize the message in this way, there is a higher level of confidence and successful performance. The why of how of his theory is well worth the read. (June 2015 issue)

After a particularly stressful weekend, I chose to spend Sunday afternoon following my own advice.  I happy to say I’ve made the transition from THINKING about what is good for me to actually DOING what is good for me.  MGV advised me to sit with my emotions and cry it out, jot down my thoughts whether they made sense or not and finally, do something creative.  I was thankful she didn’t say go exercise so I got out my art supplies before she changed her mind!

At the dementia center where I volunteer, I heard myself saying that I wasn’t an artist like my brother and father.  A woman asked me how I knew I couldn’t draw if I had never tried?  This is one of those moments when I think the voice of an angel is channeling through a mortal being.  Truth being I don’t really know.   I considered myself a failure without ever trying!

Back to my pencil and paper.  If I created a visual image for My Girlfriend Voice, what would she look like?

I know MGV is a colorful, free spirited soul.  She has big eyes and an easy smile. Of course she has good hair and great personal style.  Applying my vision to paper is a dizzyingly curious and delightful exercise.  I’m getting lost in the process!

What does your Girlfriend Voice look like?  Please describe her for me!  Post her picture….  I promise to post my creation both here and on our Facebook page once I find her.  The image I posted today titled. “Find Yourself,” is innocent yet hauntingly wise and she reminds me that we often put on one face publicly while hiding the face of our authentic self.  Sometimes we don’t know who she is and sometimes we don’t like who we are.  A whole blog topic in itself!

In closing, Lisa M. Hayes said it beautifully.  “Be careful how you talk to yourself because you are listening!”

From the heart,

...

I have always wanted my home to be a place where people could stop by and I wouldn’t be worried whether there were dirty dishes in the sink or my bed was unmade.  I want people to visit, have something good to eat and immediately feel comfortable.  I want my home to be the place you say, “Ahhh, I feel better now!”.   My home is my oasis, my sanctuary, or as I like to say, my little Zen Den.

I dedicated Sunday to cleaning my Zen Den; a chore I actually enjoy.  Magazines often feature a “ten minute clean up” which essentially means you hide dirty dishes in the oven and toss your clutter into the closet.  It looks good on the surface but lies in wait for your attention to return.  I’d rather keep things neat as I go reserving the big jobs for the weekends.

The first room on my list was the kitchen.  I can no longer ignore the smell belching from my refrigerator every time the door opens.  Some odoriferous army must have secretly invaded while I wasn’t looking!  My baking soda and white vinegar rinse wasn’t sufficient to disarm them so today I will resort to the big guns:  an apron, rubber gloves and hot soapy water.

Thoughts of the week run through my mind as I wipe down shelves and dispose of the expired items.  It occurs to me that not only do I have a physical home to maintain, even more importantly I have a spiritual home to maintain.  Pretty profound thinking for a sober Sunday afternoon!  As Oprah would say, “It was a tweetable moment!”  (I don’t tweet but I like you to think Oprah and I hang out.)

I call my spiritual home “my Soul” for lack of a better word.  SOUL sounds so pretentious and as vague at the same time.  My Soul is my emotional engine and the home of My Girlfriend Voice.  It is where my wisdom and intuition hang their shingle.  To keep my Soul healthy, I too need to keep it clean!

My Soul feeds my emotional state as my frig helps feed my physical state.  While you could hire someone to clean your kitchen, you cannot hire anyone to clean your spiritual home.  No outsourcing this inside job!  Ha, ha.  Cracking myself up with again…….

The shelves of my Soul can get sticky and filled with useless items.  My Soul’s chilly crisper drawer can hold onto negativity and grudges.  Or like today, my Soul can shine bright and smell like lemons!

So what do I mean by the maintenance of the Soul?

1. Do you pause at least daily to memorialize what you are grateful for?
2. Do you pause to evaluate what made you feel exceptionally positive or present?
3. Do you pause to review what made you feel yucky?

By yucky, I mean those times when you feel uncomfortable, when you are in a messy spot and while you’d rather not go there, you know you NEED to go there.  Avoidance, like hiding dirty dishes in the oven, only...

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most self-critical of them all?  Me, me, me!!!

Recently I was asked if I would emcee a local event.  What may be a frightening role to many, lands me well within my comfort zone.  I really shine in this capacity, thank you to my high school teacher and acting coach Mr. Bashara.  I have deeper fears than public speaking but that is whole nuther ball of wax!

Besides, this was an opportunity to dress up and talk to people– two of my favorite activities. My dance group was asked to perform a salsa number at the same event and it was my first time dancing with the team.  I may have “Broadway in my blood” but a sparkle bra and choreography tends to knock me a few feet outside of my comfort zone!  Oddly I am perfectly comfortable in a solo but group choreography is where the rubber hits the road.  Turn the wrong way and everyone knows!

Now if you are going to dance in front of people, I highly recommend wearing a sparkle bra!  I felt like my bra gave me “super powers”, which unfortunately did not translate to my feet but did help fuel my DD’s; my Diva-tude Demeanor”!  This was part of our costume – to be worn under a sheer blouse.  Ok, I admit that it was my idea to make it part of the costume!  Go big or go home.

I have always loved acting and perhaps this is one of the reasons I can sell myself.  Whoa people– not in the literal sense! I am strictly speaking in metaphors!!  I appear super confident and charming and on the outside with Teflon coated nerves.  WTF, I just realized I could be describing myself AND a sociopath!   Rest assured I am not a sociopath.  I care far too much for myself, I mean others, to be labeled this way.

My acting skills allowed me to play the part of a happy person for years.  Even my closest friends had no idea that I was struggling with depression.  Had they opened my chest, (again, metaphorically as my friends are not creepy like that!) they would have seen my broken heart covered with deep wounds and necrotic tissue. Today those scars have healed and they take up far less space than they did ten years ago.  The necrosis has reversed and my heart shines with resilience.  What may surprise you are the tiny tender bruises of new injuries; those that I inflict upon myself every time I believe what critical voice has to say.

Yes, my friends.  Words are weapons, especially when they originate from your inner critic.  So less than twelve hours after a spectacular success, I looked at my photos and felt run over by negative imagery.  I laser focused toward the part of me I hate the most, my belly and thought, “You look like you are about to birth twenty two kittens.  Who in the hell let me go out there without any Spanx????”

My Girlfriend Voice was silent.  I knew...

Last fall what I affectionately refer to as my “Un-Divorce” finally became FINAL after a mere seven and a half year process.  Initially I was jumping for joy and popping the bubbly because this Mama was hot to trot and ready to prowl!  By December and contrary to what I thought was “normal”, I felt like I had been hit by a Mac truck.  There were so many emotions seeping to the surface, then like a toddler they were whining for my undivided attention. Darkness surrounded me and I was breathless.  I was speechless.  Why were these emotions surfacing again and so intensely?

I surrendered to my grief.

Seventeen days of rain and the sappy movies on TV made me feel worse, you know the ones where the woman always finds her happily ever after?  Her life gets tied up with a red ribbon in less than ninety minutes.  Snotty nosed and spotty faced, the result of chronic ugly crying episodes, I left the safety of my couch only to restock the essentials; Cookies and Kleenex.

To add fuel to my emotional pyre, this was the first year neither one of my sons would be home for Christmas.  Here is the visual…….No shower for three days, so I was sticky, snotty and spotty AND on a sugar rush.  Not a very pretty picture, even in cute pajamas.

GRIEF…..  Unless you have experienced divorce, you may not be able to understand how much it REALLY sucks.  Divorce is on the list of the top five stressors in life (death, divorce, moving, job loss and serious illness).  Not only was I struggling to get divorced for seven years, I moved three times, struggled with clinical depression and changed jobs twice after a lay off!  And I might as well add the stress of being a Modern Day Mother. (Thank God I survived to bitch about this.)

(Thank God I survived to bitch about this.)

It is not like my “X” died – in fact in some ways that may be easier! I wouldn’t have to think about him with his new girlfriend or his white carpeted pied-a-terre.  (actually the list is quite long but I restrained myself to the top two on my list!)  My grief meant I was letting go of my happily ever after and facing the future alone.

My body vibrated with fear.  Most of my critical voices are female but this one was definitely male.  It bellowed, “Will you grow old alone?  Will you ever find true love?  Will your sons be impacted by the divorce and never have healthy relationships?  You are pretty old to be starting over.”  on and on an on…….

While treading the muddy waters of the last decade, I learned that two things would be important in order to keep myself healthy and my mind present.

1. Give back—volunteer. Find a way to help others and practice kindness.
2. Commit to self-care and not only cultivate “My Girlfriend Voice” but let her flourish!

Following MGV, I researched various types of...

I have an army or critical voices in my head.  If I had to put a body to these voices, it would look like an ugly bottom feeding creature that never sees the light of day.  Negative thought energizes the creature; the family of creatures then energize each other.  They feed on my fears, blow up in size and bellow familiar tunes.  It’s familiar melody.  This is an oldies station repetitively playing the classic tunes I have carried since childhood.

My playlist includes:

1. “You are not good enough”
2. “Who do you think you are?”
3. “Stupid, stupid, stupid”.

Lately “the army” has become so boisterous that they convinced me to quit writing.  They staged a hostile takeover!
It isn’t that I don’t have anything to share; my life is one crazy Seinfeld episode after another!  I would start writing and “the army” would chant “waste of time bullshit-no one will care-no one is going to read this – your ego is out of control”, then the chorus comes in, “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE”.

Fear was shutting me out—shutting down my creative spirit. 

The very reason My Girlfriend Voice is important is that I am NOT those thoughts!  I have become victim to what I had valiantly learned to silence or at least tolerate.  My Girlfriend Voice has gone mute.  The critics are holding me hostage.

Writing has saved my sanity.  It is really that simple.  I started writing when I had trouble breathing — trouble envisioning how to make it through the day without being crushed by sadness.   I am not looking to win any awards.  It is my hope that my stories will help someone else take a step towards embracing who they are and what they give to the world.

I have found comfort being vulnerable (still hate this word) and I have never been happier.  In giving love, I feel love.  In sharing myself with you, I feel completely present and grateful that I have a voice.  I am good enough.

I find it interesting that when life is good, I have less drama and less fight, my insecurities surfaced for a reunion concert.  It tells me that they are likely to be with me forever but it is up to me how much space I give them on the stage.

In these quieter days, I have the space and time to delve deeper into my blueprint of being.  I look forward to my recommitment.  Let the laughter, the learnings and the wisdom flow! That crappy critical playlist is background noise.  My Girlfriend Voice is in the starring role—welcome to another chapter of authentic living!!

From the heart,

Cara

I love that I can make myself laugh. Yesterday I was cleaning my computer and found a folder called “assholeness”. I invented this word (no surprise, huh?) because I wanted a way to describe and quantitate the degree of unacceptable behavior displayed by my son’s sperm donor. Surprisingly there is nothing in the folder but I am keeping it around for the chuckle factor. I am also acutely aware that anything I put in writing may be used against me in the “un-divorce” so I’m attempting to take the high road. (attempting is the operative word, thank you very much.)

Then there are the funny things I say like, “If you dressed me like a bag of Skittles, I’d be cranky too”.  And, “Do my bunions look big in these sandals?” I never thought those words would come out of this mouth but I speak the truth. I don’t much like my aging feet but they keep me dancing so at least I can outfit them in cute sandals. Or take a look at my latest Selfie! I wanted to get my shirt and sandals in the same shot and find it hysterical the way the photo came out. I feel like I look—a bloated tropical flower! I know you are now looking at my bunions. Please stop.

Visiting my Mom at the hospital I overhear the nurses debriefing during a shift change. The patient in the room next door is there because of a duck attack. What? Did they say a D-U-C-K attack? I confirm with the nurse, without looking too nosey, that indeed it was a duck attack. How much damage can a duck do? She tells me it was a pet duck but that she is prohibited by patient privacy from saying any more. I see her giggle as she leaves the room. You can’t make this stuff up.  That is the stuff nightmares are made of!

It is a good thing I am better at finding humor, especially during stressful times. My default method was to stuff my emotions until I exploded! Stress impacts both our physical and mental health. Have you ever thought about the impact of “Second Hand Stress”? I hadn’t put much thought into this concept until I heard a news story regarding a study done by Sara Waters at University of California San Francisco showing that babies could not only detect when a mother was stressed, the baby also started to demonstrate “stressed behavior”. “By knowing how this happens, we can start being mindful of both what we’re putting out, but also how people around us are affecting us,” Waters said.

So are we more influenced by our “stressed out” loved ones than a stranger? Yes, in fact it was said that we are four times more likely to be influenced by the stress of a loved one, coworker, friends or a roommate than a stranger.

Trying to do more, do better, do faster while making my life look effortless, stress became my drug of choice. If I was stressed, I was important. Didn’t all successful people have stress? So my stress manifested with short...

When I entered high school, I had very little coordination and hated to run anywhere except to the JC Penny sale rack but I wanted more than anything to be an athlete. The thought of playing on a team was likely my ticket to “coolville” because being smart was often a lonely place. Basketball was out—too much running. Softball required being outside which in Michigan could mean snow or tropical heat in the same week. I chose volleyball. The lesser-est of all evils!

Initially the practices were killer but I loved the camaraderie and the sense of complete physical exhaustion. I felt so cool or should I say FOXY wearing my knee pads around my ankles with short gym shorts!! I was relieved when I didn’t make the starting line-up, I still got to wear a uniform, but I was TERRIFIED of looking bad and/or making mistake. I sucked at volleyball and as I became more and more uncomfortable, there was only one solution.  

I had to quit.

On the car ride home I mentioned to my Dad that I was going to quit and boy did he blow a gasket! He told me, “So if you want to be a quitter, quit. If you stick with it, you will have the satisfaction of knowing you did the right thing. Everyone, even a bench warmer, has an important role on the team.” We never discussed it again. He had put the ball in my court. (Ha, ha, pun intended)

Lesson number one:  Finish what you start.*

So what did I do? I finished the season; partially because I didn’t want to disappoint my Dad but also because I knew at 15 that I needed practice honoring my commitments. The only time I played in a real match I somehow managed to score a point for the other team. How in the hell that happened I will never know! Luckily we were so far ahead it didn’t matter. MORTIFIED I made it through the embarrassment.

Lesson number two: Practice laughing at yourself. It sure comes in handy!

Fast forward thirty odd years to the present day and déjà vu. I want to quit before the end of the season!

On my “wouldn’t it be great fun” list, I joined a ladies salsa team. If you ever danced salsa you know that it is a very athletic activity! Not only does the music give me “Happy Feet”, I get the chance to hang out with great ladies (most of whom I could be there mother) and exercise once a week for ninety minutes. The class culminates with two public performances at the end of April.

The problem is, I talk much better than I dance! How do I know? Most of our practices are videotaped! Yeah for technology but @$#%@$ for seeing my mistakes in HD. It feeds the Bitchy Becky voice in my head who squawks, “You really should quit before you make a fool of yourself. You are letting the team down. Girlfriend, it is time to hang up your sequins and exit stage left.”

I love the stage but I don’t love feeling like the weakest member of the team. I also feel fat and old. There, I had to say it...

Last Friday I drove by my neighborhood school and the marquee stated, “Beautification day is cancelled”. What?  How could they do that?  I was really amazed at my reaction.

Now I don’t have a clue what type of project was planned but it got “my dern thinker ah thinkin”.  Why did it get cancelled?  Why wasn’t beautification a priority?

One of the many gifts of “growing up and older” is that you realize self-beautification is the key to mastering a happy life.  I am not talking about Botox and wearing fancy labels.  That would be too easy!  I am talking about making the commitment to do whatever you need to do in order to shine from within.

Beautification is shedding the clutter surrounding your heart that   fertilizes negative thinking. 

It is deciding to let go of what no longer fits, whether that be people, clothing, a job or a habit.

Beautification cannot be outsourced. 

Recently I’ve been feeling so much sadness that frankly I worried I may be headed into a depression.  But stop the presses!  I came to realize that this sadness was different; very different than my time in the DARK PIT.  When I was clinically depressed, my brain was mush and there was on ocean between my reality and the real world.

Today my active brain is acknowledging the sadness then reshaping or shedding the thought that creates the sadness.  The sadness is in a loading zone—no long term parking allowed!

I’ve never had the courage to sit with uncomfortable feelings.  Who wants to do that?  Wade through disappointment, jealousy, doubt and fear?  I would rather do just about anything else so I became quite comfortable over-scheduling myself or just stuffing those feelings for a later date.  With the help of my support posse, I have developed a method I would like to share with you.  If you really like it, please send cookies.

1.  Hello there [insert thought here].  Where do you come from?  It is like meeting someone new and asking them where they live.
2. [Thought speaks].
   1. How can I change this thought from a negative one into a positive one?
   2. Or is it such a useless thought that I can just let it go?  (no re-gifting please)

For example, my “X” repeatedly called me the N-word;   NEEDY.  Sadly, I believed him.  I told myself if I were smarter, stronger and worked harder, I could overcome my neediness.  Well, thank goodness the cray cray fog has lifted!!   I turn that negative thought to a positive one like this:

Although he says I am needy, I simply want to feel connected to that stupid Mother Fucker.  It is a basic human need.

By the way, the thought doesn’t have to come from someone else.  It could be your critical voice speaking to you.  Same method applies!  And don’t forget, if you like this, please send...

The Christmas holiday in my little Zen Den was simply wonderful. I hope that you too enjoyed a lovely December celebration whether it was alone or with family and friends.

There are many things that could (and did!) stress me out over the holidays. See my blog entry called “Christmas Crisis” if you are curious. However this year I experienced a new pressure. I felt the pressure to “be in a relationship” or at least have a date every time I attended a holiday party.

Why does it really matter?

Why does the pressure seem higher for single people at the holidays? There are millions of people out there dreaming of ending their dysfunctional relationships. They are envious of people like me eating take-out food in front of the TV while they have to dazzle others with witty conversation and their understanding of current events.

Is it the cold weather that drives the desire to hold hands and cozily cuddle up?
Is it primal behavior?
Or is it just bull shit?

Well, I am going to put a scratch to this itch and pony up. Ok, that sounded really strange! Let me clarify. I am officially in search of a relationship. Correction, please. I’ll start with trying to converse with an interesting gentleman!!!! I’ll take it slow. I am search of a quality date.

It makes a great deal of sense to try on-line dating. There is a nice safety net with virtual communication. I can screen out those that can’t spell or read! I can paste my profile and hope that I attract someone who matches my list of 59 “must haves”. Just kidding—I only have a few “must haves” like you MUST be single, kind, loyal, honest and intelligent. OK, a few more. You must be able to support yourself and communicate well. OK, OK. And you must live within 30 miles of me. There.

One of the dating sites asked a question that I don’t know how to answer. Can you believe it? I am haunted by this damn question. Help me with this, “What is one thing that you want people to know about you?” List one thing. Only one!

OK, if I let my thoughts fly, I could easily fill this page but that is not the exercise. I need to come up with one thing. Well then, why is it so hard to settle on one thing? I know myself pretty well but I find it impossible to prioritize my attributes. Plus I want to show I have a sense of humor. What am I going to say?

Does this mean I am over confident and a little arrogant or insecure and fearful of saying the wrong thing? I am confused. I will set this aside for tonight and trust that the answer will bubble up from my heart by morning. I’d love to hear what you think too.

I found this quote on a blog called Cindy T is for Triathlon. “They said the only way to get over a broken heart is to fall in love again. So I fell in love with myself. Best relationship of my life!”

How true! I am my own best company. I needed to fall in love with myself all over again which sets the stage for me...