If you used to toss cigarette butts out onto the land (they don’t decompose) then spend time picking up the ones you see. Pick up as many as you think you threw out. Balance that shit.
If you’ve been opinionated and refused to ever hear or respect another’s perspective or ways, then make it an intentional point and effort to “listen” and to “hear” people, and do your best to see and hear from their perspective.
If you’ve lived a life of addictions … porn, gambling, drugs, alcohol, over-eating .. whatever, be intentional about bringing balance to one-sided and heavy situations.
Undo the negatives. Apologize. Be the bigger person. Let it go. The need to be right all the time.
Do you know why? Because an 8 year old’s tank was empty.
The boys had already started their school day at their desks and I was preparing to leave for work when I noticed my littlest standing in the bathroom wiping his face.
I paused at the door and asked if he was okay. He looked up with tears silently dripping and shook his head. When I questioned if something happened, again he shook his head.
So I sat on the side of the tub and pulled him in my lap. I told him sometimes our heart tanks feel empty and need to be refilled.
He cried into my chest and I held tight. I asked if he could feel my love filling him up? A nod, and tears stopped…
I waited a minute…
‘Has it reached your toes yet?’ He shook his head no…
‘Okay man. We will take as long as you need. Work doesn’t matter right now. School isn’t important either. This right here, is the most important thing today, okay? Filling you back to the top. Is that good?’ nods
One more minute… ‘Is your heart full of mamas love now?’ ‘Yeah…’ looks in his eyes I see it shining in there, you’re full to the top, and you’re smiling!
Y’all. You may not be 8- you may be 28, 38, 48 or whatever- but ALL of us run on empty just like he did. His weekend was so busy and so full and his little soul was just dry!!!
We all have to pause, and take a moment to refill with the good things. Scripture, prayer, sunshine, worship, song, laughter, friends, hugs. Refill your empty, or you’ll find those emotions (tears, anger, snappy words) overflowing with no reason why.
Take a moment. Refill. It’s the most important part of your day!
Those walking streets having arguments with invisible people aren’t crazy, they’re under attack! I’ve been trying to tell people of this for 20 years and all they said was “it’s not real”. Well, they may find out soon, and I’m sorry. These people are very good at destroying minds.
Luke, you are ignoring ACTUAL mind control weapons.
Please listen very carefully as James Giordano, PhD discusses the capabilities the US Military already has in relation to Neuroweapons. Prepare to have your mind blown.
He is a Professor at Georgetown in the Departments of Neurology and Biochemistry, Chief of the Neuroethics… pic.twitter.com/t2xRyL0Jzg
Every morning I have a blind date with my body. And as I do, a million questions run through my head.
Who is this person sitting across from me in the mirror? Am I my own soulmate? Are the dreams in my heart and my thoughts in my head perfect strangers?
How can I open my heart to this imperfect human who is staring back at me? How can I learn to love their wrinkles? How can I build a future with this person?
And every morning during my blind date with my own image I remember the secret to any great relationship … Is to let them see you as you really are.
So, how do I see myself? As a piece of cosmic art or as half-shattered bowl? Maybe it’s both things at the same time.
My love, In order to feel at home in your skin you must learn to be yourself, with yourself. And to see the beauty in yourself when you look at yourself.
All first dates are awkward, so be patient with yourself as you get to know the person in the mirror.
Don’t let them slip through your fingers because … they are the love of your life.
A friend died, and I want to be helpful to his wife, but I’m not sure what to do. I told her that if she needed anything to let me know. Of course, she thanked me, but it’s been a few days now and she hasn’t asked for anything. I don’t think she will. I feel so helpless. What should I do?
[Redacted]
Hey there, [Redacted]. Thanks for writing. I’m really glad your friend has you in her life.
I get it. Grief is a funny thing. It’s the time in our life when we most need help, and also the time when asking for help is so hard. Not because we are ashamed to ask for help, although that happens sometimes too. But mostly because our brain just sort of shuts down.
When my Dad died, I looked functional. But I wasn’t OK. Not at all. And when the news got out, the ton of people flooding me with calls, texts, and DM’s was overwhelming. I really couldn’t function. I sat on the swing in our yard and just stared into space. People called and asked what they could do to help. I had no idea.
“Well, anything you need at all, let me know, OK?”
“OK”.
They hung up. I stared into space some more.
I had no idea what to do. What I needed. I didn’t even know what to ask for.
Then a friend sent a text. This friend had met Dad once but didn’t really know him. But still, she knew I was hurting. I saw who it was and almost put the phone down without reading the text, but I saw the message and it stopped me:
Will you be home at 8:30 tonight?
What’s weird is this friend lives 12 hours away from me.
Yes, I replied.
“K.”
10 minutes later, she said, “Instacart will be there at 8:30. Open the door for them.”
“What?”
“Grief Groceries.”
When Instacart showed up, they put two large bags of groceries on my porch. Frozen pizzas. Ice cream. Oreo cookies. Tinned soup. Stouffer’s lasagna. A gallon of milk. Like that. Things I could heat up if I needed a meal, or pig out on if I needed fat and sugar. Sometimes, you just need to eat half a box of Oreos.
Notice she didn’t ask if I needed any food. I would have said no. She just asked if I would be home.
Grief groceries.
Another friend, who lives out of town, asked Renee to name a restaurant near our house where we like to eat. There is a local chain near our house that is sort of a deli. When we eat supper there, we spend about $25. Renee told her the name of the place.
An hour later, there was a gift card in my inbox for $250. Yes, that is a lot of money, and I understand not everyone can do that. But the wonderful thing was that because it was enough for multiple meals, we didn’t try to save it for “the right time”. We ate there that night, and take out from there several times a week for the next month on nights when I just didn’t have the spoons to cook.
Both of those gift-givers knew something I didn’t know – that when you are grieving, you don’t want to make decisions. No, that’s not quite it: You can’t make decisions. You hit decision fatigue really fast.
So, I guess what I’m saying is, don’t ask grieving people to make big choices or decisions. “How can I help” is a big choice. But “Can I take the kids this afternoon so you can have some time to yourself” is a much smaller one. “Will you be home tonight?” is a small choice. “What restaurant do you like” is a small decision. Just showing up to cut their grass because you noticed it needed cutting is loads better than asking, “Do you want me to cut the grass?” Or, “I’m going to Target. What can I get you while I’m there?” is better than “Can I run any errands for you?”
It won’t always be like this. If you stick around, eventually they will surface and ways to be helpful will make themselves known. But in the first few days, especially, it helps to remove as many decisions from their plate as possible.
