humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
It's not ok to not be ok.
There is a popular saying about mental health-"It's ok to not be ok." It references mental health and the struggle to tell others when you need help, instead of letting it get the best of you. It means that you don't have to act like everything is ok when it's not. It gives a sense that if you are struggling and ask for help, that you will get that help, without negative consequences. After all, you are doing the right thing by taking care of yourself, right?
By Jennifer Birchard5 years ago in Humans
Strongest Ever
I love to read but I hated school. At the time, I also hated order, supervision, and being told what to do. I found more joy in leaving school because I already had my career path as a brick mason laid out. I loved working with my hands and my family and friends. It was a steady routine. Bricks and mortar come on a pallet. Break them down. Use them, then toss the pallet to the side. Repeat the process. There’s freedom in a job like that. You know what to do, no need for supervision. You are left alone all day, but there are just as many restrictions to that drone mentality. You realize you work in a plantation-style setting, where the people you work for will never acknowledge you – even while in close range – and the very idea of you using any of their facilities will be unheard of. It’s never more evident than the day the owner of one house you’re working on looks your way and says “Honey, come on in here! You know its too hot for you out there.”
By Abasa Aziz ibn Horace5 years ago in Humans
The windows and Me
The Windows and Me I live in a flat with very large windows. It’s a top floor flat on the seventh and eighth floor of an old school conversion in South London. I can see roof tops and a little bit of the inside of flats covering a large part of Vauxhall in South London. I see all sorts of lives going on in east and west, a bit of north and a bit of south. I have a perfect view of the Shard in London Bridge not too far away, I can see the lights inside Sushi Samba in the City, and the headquarters of global banks in Canary Wharf. Nearby I can see what appears to be the residence of people who have done well in life and therefore have a comfortable big flat, but also those that appear to not have done so well.
By Joao Ferreira5 years ago in Humans
Fundamentally Bad?
The Fundamental Attribution Error references a tendency we have as humans to attribute another person’s action to their personality, often labeling them in the process. Meanwhile, our own actions are held to a different standard and attributed to our external situation or circumstances.
By Doug Scavezze5 years ago in Humans
(Opinion): The Story Of A Widow Woman Burnt Alive, By Angry Mob Will Make You Cry.
There was this widow, she had six children - five boys and one girl, she had lost her husband seven years ago, after seeing a mysterious broken egg on her staircase. she was living in a compound with some neighbours, she had been living in the compound for seventeen years. A year after she lost her husband, she woke up one morning to find yet another broken egg smashed on her wall. Later that evening, she received sad news, her only daughter who was returning from her NYSC was involved in a ghastly motor accident that claimed her life.
By Emmanuel Elewuwa5 years ago in Humans
Is Your Gratitude Practice Giving You Gratitude Fatigue?
The positive psychology movement of the 90s opened the door to the power of beginning a daily gratitude practice, and ever since coaches and happiness experts have recommended a quotidian exercise in acknowledging your blessings.
By Glad Doggett5 years ago in Humans
The Girl at the Museum
In the days when the building was erected, it was customary for men to sail from Nantucket on the Atlantic coast all the way to the middle of the Pacific in what, by today’s standards, would be considered precarious vessels. Thousands of miles away, deprived of communication with the terrestrial world, they would locate, track down and manually harpoon adult sperm whales with enough precision to puncture their hearts. A long rope attached to the harpoon would be tethered to the small boat used for this maneuver, and the velocities they reached while being pulled with great force by such a giant, terrified animal just before the end of its life I do not know. The men would then somehow haul the massive carcass aboard the main ship and process one of the most valuable commodities of their time - whale oil- which they would ultimately store in wooden barrels. The fact that the gruesome work shifts would often last well over a year and that they did everything without access to electricity or any subsequent technology, of course, might be difficult for the modern man - who needs but the flip of a switch to summon light - to fully appreciate. The point here, however, is merely to illustrate that the aforementioned building was old. Built in the early 1800, its lamps did burn whale oil. Its appearance, nonetheless, was immaculate; recently painted and well maintained, it stood rather imposing amid peculiar palm like trees somewhere in San Francisco, and its most recent iteration was as a museum.
By Bagha Rosin5 years ago in Humans
Where must we go
“Where must we go, we who wander this wasteland, in search for our better selves.”-The First History Man Feet swayed above the depths of the deep blue sea, eyes scanning over the horizon of crimson reds and embellished purples that rest with the indolent ripples of water; leaving reflections of scattered perfection to dissipate into the open waters. Longing for a sense of direction, a sense of change. My heart ached for a better me, to be as beautiful and courageous as this sea.
By Kendra J. Anthony5 years ago in Humans
The Cancer Diaries
They wouldn't let me out of the hospital until I pooped. Funny thing about having a section of your gut cut out and the remaining ends sown back together, they want to be sure everything down there is operating as it should before they let you go home. By the seventh day in the hospital, I was going stir-crazy. They were feeding me laxatives like candy. I talked a friend into bringing me KFC mashed potatoes and gravy. When that failed to do the trick, I ordered Taco Bell. That did it. The tenth morning, the doctor came in and asked, "Well, any movement last night?" I nodded. "FIVE TIMES, Doc. Can I go home now?"
By Dawn Harper5 years ago in Humans
