EGO VS. REALITY- The pain of knowing that others are unfairly judging you.

In my divorce, nearly a decade ago, friends and family divided, each of us naturally gaining sole custody of those we’d laid claim to before meeting. As is standard, there were raw emotions and bruised egos. We each constructed a story of what went wrong that would help us more easily mitigate the personal damage. Those stories were facts to us but in reality only half-truths. Of course, they were shared with those we were closest to… and probably several others.

Childless and 30, the perception others held of me was of disproportionate importance, whether I feigned fortitude and apathy or not. It was incredibly painful to know that these people, who I’d done life with for 10 years, believed falsities about me. And even more difficult to swallow was the acceptance that I’d have to be okay with that.

I knew, as it was unfolding, that this was a gift in the making, the greatest gift of my divorce, outside of peace. I was keenly aware of the strength that would be gained, a strength my soul desperately craved. My mantra became the reminder that only I needed to know my truth. If I was operating from a place of personal integrity, the perception of others was moot.

Still, it hurt. But, cutting the strings of my delicate ego, with scissors honed from authenticity, won out. True liberation, even if it was scary as hell.

I breathed deeply often, observing negative thoughts slither in, that ego-crushing feeling taking over, and then I dismissed them. I was acting as the best version of me, even if it didn’t feel like it to those around me. I could answer only to myself.

It took tremendous effort for me to acknowledge that others responses to my actions, or what they believed to be true, were strictly owned by them. If I knew that I was operating from my highest self then I could do no more. The rest wasn’t mine.

It bears explaining that major soul searching and uncomfortable honesty are paramount to knowing if you’re operating from a place of authenticity versus ego. If you have anger towards another, that’s you. Authenticity and integrity are peaceful states of being.

Of course, over the years, there have been moments when I deserved judgment, when my ego stepped in and caused emotional bedlam. And, there have also been moments when the hurt wasn’t mine to claim. It’s my natural inclination to always question myself first, to check for ego activity. That means that I have to sit with the vulnerability, the ugly emotions. I have to pick apart my actions to search for signs of inauthenticity and palpability. This is difficult work, and I often erroneously take responsibility for the insecurities of others because of my uncommon willingness to wade the murky waters of my ego.

At this moment, intuitively, I believe that a friend has shared half-truths and misinformation with other friends. Emotionally, it’s my divorce all over again. I moved away from these women, so the friend gets custody of them. I have a choice- to confront or to be still. We’ve all been there, sat with the feeling of being misrepresented and desperately wanting to fix it, to heal the wound inflicted upon the ego. (None of them will see this because I know you’re wondering.)

But I won’t. I choose silence because I know my truth, and I have faith. It’s been a rough year, having to decipher what is and isn’t mine in various interactions. I have had to learn to trust my judgment and my growth, to see my heart clearly and then pardon myself because I know it is pure. I’ve learned that if I feel saddened, it’s probably not mine, but if I feel angry, I’m likely the proprietor. I believe that when the universe senses you’ve elevated beyond a learning curve you’d previously struggled with, you’ll be gifted situations that test your faith in that growth.

I hear you Universe, and I thank you.

-Angi

FINDING YOUR PURPOSE IN THE MIDST OF MOTHERHOOD.

There you are, again, sitting on the floor, neck deep in the drudgery that is rumpled laundry waiting to be folded and distributed to its respective dressers, wondering if there is more to life than this? Post kids, finding fulfillment becomes extra challenging. There are rewarding activities that come from a little self indulgence (going to hot yoga or reading self help books in the bathtub… oh, is that just me??), but I'm not referencing that type of fulfillment, I'm talking about actual purpose.

Many of us, men and women alike, will never even make it to the self exploration required to identify our purposes in life. Kids or no kids, it's a struggle that requires time, intention, and introspection. The few, the lucky, will seem to come out of utero primed to do what they were born to, and then there's the rest of us.

It's easy to get lost in momming and never make it out, sorta like when you dress your pajamas up with a jacket, call it an outfit, proceed to wear it all day, and then roll right back into bed with them still on. Self neglect is widespread in the realm of parenting, and it's a sure fire way to stunt growth. Many of us will go to our graves never having found our reason for living.

This is probably going to hurt a little, but your soul purpose (the play on words is intentional) is not “only” to be a mother. Ouch, I said it. Don't hate me. I say “only” not as a way to condescend or minimize the immeasurably important role that is motherhood, just to express that there is more. Let's break this down logistically for a minute, somewhere between 80-90% of women have children during the course of their lives. That's the bulk of the population. The world needs variety to make it go round, child rearing is more or less a given in a woman’s life. That's a whole lot of us filling the same bracket. Birthing and raising children is a requirement for our species’ survival. Yes, it has purpose, loads of it, but as far as being your reason for living, unlikely. The reason you're alive, yes- you, me, and everyone else, but that's completely different from your purpose in living. Make no mistake, a solid two decades of our lives will be dedicated to sculpting and nurturing our children. Flour, water, and yeast don't make bread unless crafted by our two hands. And, fostering the growth of our children is purpose laden, fundamental stuff. Decent humans make for a decent world.

But, here's the problem with parenting being a soul purpose- It ends. At some point, your children leave the nest, and your work is over. You'll forever worry about them and field the occasional phone call, but assuming you did your job right, they won't take up residence in your basement or look to you for constant support, post adulthood. So, who are you after that?

Unintentional parenthood came early for some, and that's put a strain on personal progress. Not to say that we don't learn copious amounts about ourselves during the process of child rearing. Strengths are identified that we never knew we had and priorities are shifted in ways they'd never have been otherwise. But, parenting also serves as a major distraction from the individual woman that resides somewhere in there, amidst the boo boo kissing, dinner making, soccer games, school drop offs, and dishes. The focus is on others. Much of learning yourself, as a woman, happens with the mistake laden, self indulgent and self absorbed craziness that is your entire 20’s. Motherhood and womanhood are two exclusive beasts, with vastly different types of growth inherent to each.

Others have chosen parenthood early. It’s a natural social progression to marry and start a family. If you were blessed enough to meet the yin to your yang in high school, that process is accelerated, and the aforementioned exploratory 20’s may have bypassed you. You might have checked right into motherhood or a career that fell into your lap, and has thus far made all of the choices for you. Pursuing your passion can be scary stuff and feel like an overwhelming responsibility. For most women, this isn't a conscious choice, but a subconscious avoidance. Knowing what feeds you as a woman is, for many, life’s greatest mystery, and entertaining the idea of figuring it out can be so mind boggling that it leads to paralysis.

Generally speaking, it's nice if you can identify what makes you tick before you procreate, but things don't always come in pretty little packages with perfect timelines. It's going to be difficult to do your soul searching with a bunch of hungry, dirty diapered toddlers tugging at your apron strings, but it's more than possible. It's imperative. Listen now and listen hard, if you want to lead a truly satisfying life before, during, and/or after children, you have got to identify what the hell your soul was put here to do.

This is always, every single time, going to involve serving others. Being instrumental in the lives of your fellow humans comes in a myriad of forms. Maybe you bring health and confidence by teaching yoga. Maybe you inspire young brains of the world by teaching. Maybe you prepare healthy meals that invite nutrition, or create music that gives a voice to others thoughts. Whatever this thing is, once you acknowledge it, a spark will be ignited that cannot be burned out, and you won't be able to turn your back on it without significant emotional repercussions.

I have a lot of things that I love to do. Decorating makes my heart go pitter patter, exercise lights me up, reading feeds me, cooking and baking warm my soul, but none of these things are IT for me. I exist to accumulate knowledge via reading and life experiences and then dispense that information. It is my raison de vivre. I can't not do it. Anyone who knows me will attest to this. If we’re in the same room, at some point I’m going to unload info that I believe will be of use.

Initially, I went to school for interior design, but towards the end of the program I realized that this field was too aesthetic for me, and centering my life around it felt trite. I resigned to make it a hobby, something to help friends with, and then promptly changed my major to psychology. A year away from a master’s degree in marriage and family therapy, I quit the biz to become a hairstylist. Probably doesn't sound like a smart move given my passions, but at the ripe old age of 27, and in the midst of a struggling marriage that was soon to end, I didn't feel equipped with enough life experiences, patience, or know how to counsel anyone through anything.

Doing hair was creative for me, but never purposeful. My soul found a way to emerge within the constraints of my job, as it often will, and what drove me was the interaction I had with the women in my chair, a captive audience to dispense the aforementioned information to. Two hours of face time lends itself to intimacy. Women who get their hair done with any consistency, spend more uninterrupted personal time truly engaging with their hairstylist than most anyone else. Bonus for the girl who loves talking about relationships and human nature.

After my third child, work became overwhelming, given my propensity for depth in interaction and communication. Between my job and parenting, I didn't have much left to give. I was running on empty. When we moved, I decided to stop doing hair and try my hand at being a stay at home mom.

Care taking fuels me in many ways. I'm a nurturer by nature, but my kids aren't interested in the ramblings of a 40 year old woman or why the mucilage emitted by chia seeds is cleansing to the digestive system.  After almost a year of having minimal outlets for communicating and sharing, angst set in, commingled with a little depression. Facebook and Instagram became unjustifiably interesting, and I often found myself lost in my phone, trying to fill a void with crap that other people were posting to fill their voids, i.e. pictures of dogs cuddling kittens and chalkboard signs for every non monumental event in their children’s lives. Not gonna work. I knew I wasn't feeding my soul, but didn't know how to remedy the situation. Doing hair again, and building a clientele from the ground up, wasn't realistic or financially sensible with three kids, and would land me right back into the exhausted boat I started with. I asked the Universe for an answer, it arrived in the form of blogging. When the inspiration showed up, it was like a sucker punch, swift and clear, stopping me in my tracks. I knew exactly what I needed to do and exactly how to do it. When you identify your passion, it'll hit you hard, there will be no denying it. Blogging may not be the end all be all, but my eyes are opened, and I have unwavering faith that my path will unfold before me if each step I take is conscious and with purpose.

Let's chat about how to work this out for yourself:

1. Be mindful, take moments for yourself to be still and listen. Ask for guidance, whether that's to God, Allah, the Universe, or your spirit guide. This may take time. Ask and ask again. But, you've got to be still to hear the answer. Make that space for yourself. Get off your phone and hide in the closet for five minutes. Go for a run without music. Turn off the lights when you're on a bathroom break. Quiet your mind in the shower. Breathe and listen. No excuses.

2. Pay attention to how you feel when you’re pursuing different endeavors. This requires mindfulness again. Is there anything that you're doing, be it ever so small, that ignites purpose? For me, when I'm talking to people about subjects that evoke passion in me, it's like my brain goes on autopilot, and I'm a bystander to my own words, because my soul is acting through me. It may be different for you, but there should be some sort of spark, a soul’s remembrance if you will, when you're in the zone of pursuing your purpose.

3. Read some books about the subject. See recommendations below.

4. Journal about it.

5. Talk to a friend, brainstorm, voice your deepest ideas and fears. Epiphanies are easily met when putting thoughts into words.

6. If there is a fear holding you back or a contextual issue, list the worst things that could happen if you went for it. And, remember, step one doesn't have to be moving to a third world country to join the Peace Corps. It could be as simple as organizing a food drive at church. Work within the realm of your own world.

7. Know this with complete assuredness, when you open the door to progress and desire, to something meaningful that enhances you and those in your wake, turning your back on fears, you will be doubly rewarded. Doors will fly open all around you. But, you have to take the first courageous step, keeping the fear of failure and inadequacy at bay, or you’ll never even see those doors. The prize of personal risk is progress and nothing halts progress quite like fear. Fear often comes in the form of excuses; “I'm too busy,” “I’m too tired,” “I’m too broke.” Bullshit. This is what you were born for. Get it.

And on that note, I'll leave you.

-Angi

STAY AT HOME MOTHERHOOD: Resisting the Urge to be a Shut-In.

As far as the eye can see, every tree and rooftop are sheathed in a glistening blanket of snow. The fireplace is aglow and I’m in head to toe fleece, having embraced comfort over fashion, a true Oregonian one year after relocating. My oldest children are in school, and the sweetest toddler on Earth is my homegirl. My husband is in his office, two jobs in, gently pecking away at his keyboard, making it possible for me to be without a formal career. Indigo and I have been hard at it this morning, playing in the snow (well, she mostly ate it), painting, reading, pretending, sipping chai, and singing, and now she’s slumbering upstairs. Coziness abounds in our home. I’m a nurturer by nature and my space reflects that. For me, this life is hygge (Google it), in every sense of the word.

Stay at home motherhood is relatively new to me. Work (hairstylist) forced socialization, up until this year. Often times I found myself overwhelmed, wanting nothing to do with women and conversation by the time the weekend arrived, preventing me from putting much effort into friendships. I’ve curated relationships that don’t require a constant presence or line of communication. Thank God for texting.

But now, here I am, jobless (aside from a few Saturdays per month), and I’m fresh out of excuses for antisocial tendencies.

If I’m being honest with myself, the desire isn’t showing up. Aside from being fiercely independent, my cup runneth over at home. My husband and I have a completely rewarding relationship with great exchanges of ideas and inspiration, and I’m blessed to receive mass quantities of love in the form of snuggles, hugs, and kisses from three mini sugars. I have a sweet little routine going. I’ve managed to, for the first time, find a balance between motherhood and self-care. Stress is almost nonexistent, outside of the sporadic minor meltdown and children waiting until the last minute to get coats and shoes on for school.

I’m afraid to upset the balance, tip things out of my favor by making any changes, even a lunch date evokes despair. I was operating in survival mode before I stopped working, running on adrenaline, and I realize that I was less of a wife and mother by more than I’m comfortable admitting to. I’m desperate to never feel that way again, to not deprive my family of my best version. I have an irrational fear of new commitments, of any kind, because I know my MO- all or nothing.

And, it’s turned me into a virtual shut-in.

I can’t decide what my comfort level is with this.

The sensible part of me acknowledges that women bring different layers of communication and connection than a husband. But, I’m not lonely, not pining for more. And, friendships take effort, time, commitment (eek!)- things I’m tapped out of with children and myself to care for.

I can also recognize that it’s important to have a support system, a tribe (if I’m being on trend). It’s hard to rally the energy to build said tribe in the event of a yet to transpire need.

Writing, reading, researching wellness, practicing spirituality, working on a side business, exercising, and healthy cooking are daily passions for me. Purpose abounds. I don’t feel underwhelmed as a stay at home mom because I fill every crevice of my life with rewarding endeavors. There are not enough hours in the day to pursue my ever-growing interests.

As a mother, my time has become increasingly precious. I must share it sparingly, out of fierce protection of my limited energies. These are going to have to be some pretty stimulating friendships to make them worth it to an already home-body-by-nature mama. I enjoy feminine perspective and sharing, but my inclination is to be fully present and social interactions leave me depleted, no matter how much enjoyment they’ve rendered. Some women are filled up after time with friends, but I know I’m not alone in my sentiment. I do have buds (old and new), but we aren’t up in each other’s business on the reg. I suspect our similar mentalities drew us to one another. And, in an emotional crisis, I could one hundred percent count on them. We just aren’t brunching or meeting up to chat over wine.

This is the current space I reside in. I don’t have an answer. Maybe it resolves itself as your children grow older. Maybe I’m dead wrong for not forcing it upon myself.

I want to hear from other mothers who share my experience and feelings... and from those who don’t. How do you work socialization into your world? What’s your take on finding balance and resisting the urge to be a shut-in?

Talk to me, Mamas.

-Angi

DIRTY LAUNDRY- SHAME, SECRETS, AND LONELINESS.

Carrie. My childhood BFF. We shared a love of Tiffany, Debbie Gibson, and New Kids on the Block. She staked claim to Jordan, and Jonathon was all mine. We passed notes folded into arrows and schemed about how to make our crushes fall in love with us. Sometimes she said things that shocked me, revealing private details that would embarrass most. How this 9-year-old, with barrel curled bangs held firm by hairspray, managed the confidence to publicly be unabashedly herself, is beyond me. Over time, I came to love this quality, always knowing where I stood with her, never wondering what judgments may be hidden behind a feigned smile.

During the murky waters of junior high, acid washed denim, and peg-legged pants, she left, moving away with her family, but her forthrightness remained.

I found my typically shy self, previously mortified by the smallest of things, “tellin’ it like it was.” It wasn’t a conscious transformation, her humility was contagious and burrowed its way in. I tried it on here and there and found myself still alive afterward. It was incredibly liberating; giving less f*cks, assuming I wasn’t a lone wolf in my perceived weirdness. Acknowledging that I wasn’t particularly special or unique relieved quite a bit of pressure. So, it stuck.

There were multiple consequences.

Sometimes I pissed people off.

Sometimes I hurt people’s feelings.

Lots of times, I made people feel normal for the things they were ashamed of.

Lots of times I built relationships that allowed for complete honesty, the sharing of extremely intimate details, and a resulting unburdening.

Lots of times people felt less alone on this giant, sphere of a planet hurtling through space. Myself included.

Of course, like any learned behavior, there are extremes, and ultimately a balance must be sought.

As an adult, who has felt the power of my words and the pain they’ve often inflicted, I now seek middle ground, biting my tongue in favor of respect. I take heed of the emotional space others are in, considering what they can handle, what will help versus hinder. I’m still learning, and I still toe the line, at times crossing it.

But, when it comes to the details of my life, my private obstacles, I rarely pipe down. I have forgone my secrecy because I know my experiences, and feelings, and fears, and questions are not unique to me. I share because there is strength in numbers. I share because I don’t want to carry the weight of my inadequacies around, left to accumulate and hide behind the dark corners of my psyche, ever worried I might be found out, my human imperfection revealed. I share because it lightens me, unshackling my energies for progressive endeavors.

I share because not only does a lack of privacy make others feel connected, but it extends the invitation to be themselves with me, to speak of whatever weighs upon their souls, and I guard that honor with the utmost pride, love, and respect.

I want everyone to be reminded that we are just people; struggling, striving, loving, pressing on, and that struggle is beautiful because it is unanimous, and real.

Some are uncomfortable with honesty. Recognize that it serves as a reminder of their own buried shame they’re not yet ready to relinquish and the illusory human separation we often cling to out of a self-importance born to camouflage feelings of inadequacy.

Being authentic with one another, moving beyond shame, is courageous and freeing. It’s why the blogs that I write, with the most intimate details and raw emotion, get the most reads. We want to feel normal. We crave to be laid bare from our cloaks of shame, the chains that bind. What is privacy anyway, in a world full of people who are all born to eventually die, with the yearning for joy and fulfillment in between, but an illusion? We are more the same than different, always and forever.

So, tell it, tell that thing, tell all the things. Confide in the friend you know has your best interests at heart. When you see another struggling, make known your inner demons. Release embarrassment, embracing connection and authenticity. Do you think no one has gone bankrupt? Struggled with addiction? Worked through anxiety and depression? Been cheated on? Felt completely disconnected from their husband? Gone through unbearable loss? Even if some haven’t, they undoubtedly have a loved one who has, and you’ll never receive the sage advice, understanding, or comforting acceptance they have to offer if you disown and thereby silence your humanness.

Share all of you, even the shadows, courageously, lovingly granting others permission to step out of their own.

-Angi

ARE YOU JUDGING ME? HOW TO DIFFERENTIATE BETWEEN GOSSIP AND CONCERN.

I remember it well, the first time the word judgmental was used in reference to me. It was a boyfriend who uttered it as we sat in a booth at Denny’s, eating post-hangover scrambles. He shattered my self-perception while I choked down a hash brown, and so began an unraveling akin to the slow picking at the edge of a band-aid, with an awareness that pain will ensue if you go any further. It would take years for me to press forward, but in that moment, part of me awoke.

I didn’t accept his classification, arguing that I was instead analytical, intrigued by human nature. But it was too late, his words grabbed hold and the label of “judgmental” was mentally filed away, causing me to question my motivations thereafter. It was a subtle pondering. I wasn’t ready to wholly own such a lofty and derogatory quality but at the ripe old age of 21, who is?

And, it is true that I’m intrigued by human nature, so I had that to hide behind. But, I’ve used judgment as a means of self-protection for as long as I can recall, and it’s more than possible that it birthed my interest in others. When you’re nitpicking the actions of those around you, curiosity surrounding intention builds.

I rationalized through other means as well. “How was I supposed to connect with friends if we didn’t talk about other friends?” “ We’re just expressing our love and concern through discussion.” “What else are we going to talk about, if not each other???” “I’ll be so lonely if I rise above judgment.” I really didn’t know how to differentiate between discussion and judgment, connection and gossip.

My girlfriend suggested I read “The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz. Yeesh. Can you say game changer? My brain exploded when I associated that what I said about others was a reflection of how I felt about myself. It was a liberating notion, while simultaneously rendering me overwhelmed at my perceived shortcomings. The first stab at taking responsibility for your emotions often leaves you feeling somewhat stymied instead of empowered. It’s so much easier to pass that power off to those we judge... those who judge us, a learned habit most of us form early on. Introspection, after all, isn’t always pleasant, and we’re a society notorious for avoidance of all that breeds discomfort.

One of the agreements is to “Be Impeccable With Your Word.” I finished the book with excellent intentions on this front. Then said girlfriend and I met up for drinks, and while walking to the bar with our red Solo cups full of pre-cocktail cocktails, struggled to find anything to talk about that wasn’t infringing upon our ode to impeccability. We decided that we’d instead focus on the other Three Agreements because this one was a lost cause, completely unrealistic unless you’re Buddhist Monk status.

For the next decade or so, I continued to ignore that Agreement, using all manners of justification that had previously proven effective. After all, I was a hairstylist, and there’s nothing women like to talk to their hair girl about more than other women. Still a losing battle. And, I was growing increasingly more uncomfortable with my deficiency, feeling robbed of precious energy and joy. My introspection, willingness to accept personal responsibility, and therefore my emotional intellect, had grown significantly, and I was now acutely aware of the judgment being imparted with each word I spoke.

How to clean up this seemingly innate behavior? I knew with certainty that I used it to leverage myself into a false sense of superiority when feeling insecure, to feign connection, or when my self-defined identity seemed threatened. It kinda worked, for like a sec. And then I felt like shit. You know, that mild sense of ick accompanying behaviors that aren’t in line with your highest self. If you pay attention, it’s there. When you shoot your husband a snippy jab for not helping around the house enough… ick. When you don’t pay attention to your son’s extremely detailed and pride filled story about his Minecraft creation because you wanna lose yourself in your phone … ick. When you talk to one friend about another friend’s lack of parenting effort (right after ignoring the Minecraft story)... ick.

That ick is the Universe nudging you back to center, a reminder that you’re better than that. If aligned with your highest self, you should feel love and joy during and after an interaction. The ick was overtaking me, on so many levels. I was angry at myself for succumbing to judgment, even in the presence of this less than gratifying sensation.

Something had to give. All of my judgment, my venting, my complaining, my shit talking, wasn’t accomplishing anything except the magnification of negative emotion and the multiplication of those perceived infractions. The more I judged the people and situations in my life, the more those things compounded. Like attracts like, and I was putting out some serious muck. The only way out of this was to renounce judgment completely.

My husband and I made a pact. With the assumption that our thoughts are creative, we vowed to keep our combined energies pristine. If we caught the other muddying things up, we were swift to remind of the transgression and literally breathe off the negativity that had been initiated.

It was a wild success. We both felt as though we were walking on air… in control, inspired, purpose-driven, as if we’d rejected our egos in favor of joy.

We lived on cloud nine for approximately two weeks. Then little things started going awry, like sick kids and/or a lack of sleep, and judgment, as it often does, slyly crept in. The vibe in the house became noticeably heavier, we weren’t as accomplished, even our relationship felt more distant.

Grateful for the reminder given to us by the disparity in our moods from one week to the next, we made the choice to again mentally tidy. Judgment has been part of my life for so long. I use it as one would cigarettes or sugar. It’s my go-to fix when I’m feeling inadequate. It’s always going to be a choice for me to mentally tidy, to reject the ick. The struggle is real Y'all.

So, how do you know the difference between judgment and discussion, connection and gossip. Check in with yourself, take note of the emotional sensations surrounding what you're doing or saying, find the highest version of you and choose to connect on that level. Make that decision over and over again. That is your inner guidance communicating with you. Talking with a friend about another friend (technical name: gossip) accomplishes absolutely nothing. The best thing we can do for others is silently wish them well and believe in their powers to progress. Pray for them, send loving energy. Know that they have spiritual guidance available to them and will work through discord in their own way and time. For some, that process may test the patience of everyone around them, but it is not our journey to judge.

We don't live in a cocoon, negativity will inevitably find us, but we can surround ourselves with people that fill us up and grow us. While not always possible, it’s still conceivable to do your damndest to hover above less than stellar conversations, not engaging in gossip. This is equally, if not more important, in the realm of thoughts. Just because you didn’t go so far as to give judgment voice, a thought is still transformative. It’s your job to protect your energies because they dictate the state of your life. This necessitates mindfulness and conscious effort. Your band-aid may be covering up an entirely different wound. The methodology remains the same. Have grace with the pace at which you heal but choose to peel back that corner and begin. The best version of you is waiting on the other side of pain.

-Angi

A little insight from The Four Agreements, by Don MIguel Ruiz:

“Go inside and listen to your body, because your body will never lie to you. Your mind will play tricks, but the way you feel in your heart, in your guts, is the truth.”

“We judge others according to our image of
perfection as well, and naturally they fall short of our expectations.”

“Imagine living your life without judging others. You can easily forgive others and let go of any judgments that you have. You don’t have the need to be right, and you don’t need to make anyone else wrong. You respect yourself and everyone else, and they respect you in return.”

"Gossiping has become the main form of communication in human society. It has become the way we feel close to each other, because it makes us feel better to see someone else feel as badly as we do.”

“THE FIRST AGREEMENT Be Impeccable with Your Word THE FIRST AGREEMENT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE and also the most difficult one to honor. It is so important that with just this first agreement you will be able to transcend to the level of existence I call heaven on earth. The first agreement is to be impeccable with your word. It sounds very simple, but it is very, very powerful. Why your word? Your word is the power that you have to create. Your word is the gift that comes directly from God. The Gospel of John in the Bible, speaking of the creation of the universe, says, “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word is God.” Through the word you express your creative power. It is through the word that you manifest everything. Regardless of what language you speak, your intent manifests through the word. What you dream, what you feel, and what you really are, will all be manifested through the word.” 

“Being impeccable with your word is the correct use of your energy; it means to use your energy in the direction of truth and love for yourself.”

“There is a huge amount of freedom that comes to you when you take nothing personally.” 

“Even when a situation seems so personal, even if others insult you directly, it has nothing to do with you. What they say, what they do, and the opinions they give are according to the agreements they have in their own minds. Their point of view comes from all the programming they received during domestication.”