healing
How to heal fully and properly.
"Ew She Bald-Headed"
“Ew She Bald-Headed” That’s what they said to me. I turned to them, fighting the ball of anxiety in my throat and the tears welling behind my eyes and asked, “why don’t you like me? what did I do to you guys?”. They all ran away laughing. I stood there in the hallway. Alone. I felt so alone. I always felt so alone. But I knew I was on the right path for me.
By Crystal5 years ago in Motivation
My Love Message
As I sat on the back porch I thought about how beautiful life was . I couldnt have been more than 8 or 9. I remember...I could see straight off the back porch for atleast 2 miles . Nothing but cotton fields lined the property . Between the porch and the cotton was a farm , dogs , fire ants,collard greens, field peas , peach trees, pecans and watermelon. Oh and of course a barn. Every thing I needed was there, It substanded my body, and my mind.
By Shani Holloman5 years ago in Motivation
Stagnant
This morning, I woke up and rolled over and pulled Freeda into my arms, and she snuggled close, then stretched her funny Bully dog stretch and yawned her funny Bully dog yawn, and my first thought of the day, once again, was how she is more my wife than my dog. There hasn’t been a man in my bed in years now... and yes, it makes me cry sometimes. I mean, I may be crippled and widowed, but I am still only 47. But, my Freeda, my whole pack of animals really, keeps me from feeling completely alone… most of the time. Coco and Dixie sensed me awake and came to life faster than Freeda and I. They wiggled and shook the bed until they forced me out of it, even though I wouldn’t have minded laying in the cool breeze from the open windows a little longer. But, bladders grew in urgency, so we made our way down the stairs, to the tune of my ducks loudly greeting us with a quacky, flappy good morning. I opened their pen and let them waddle along with the dogs out the back door. It delights me that they have learned to do this so well. I ran to the bathroom and tended my own bladder, and brushed out my hair, kinda marveling that it has reached my waist again already, and decided to let it stay down today for awhile longer. Then, I went back out and just stood on the step, waking up, and looking out over my yard trying to decide what chores I would try to tackle today. Its promising to be a beautiful day in Green Mountain... one of those wonderful warm and cool, sunny and windy and green spring days that Iowa does so well. One of those days that makes you want to mow and plant and lay in the grass doing nothing at all; the meteorological equivalent of meandering down a two lane road on an old Harley. After a moment of watching my animals play and contemplating my day, I came in and started the coffee pot and pulled on a cardigan over my dress, then went back out again, to ride my bicycle barefoot with long hair flying, down the little gravel road. I rode my bicycle down the gravel road and around the windmill, just because, feeling like a ten year old me riding barefoot around my dad’s shop..... and then I rode back up the gravel road, anxious for coffee and a Camel now, pumping the bike petals up and down in the brisk early wind, focusing on the strength in my legs and ignoring the niggling pain in my body and soaking up the exercise. As I rode along, I thought about all the early mornings I got up and went to various jobs, or put on make up and designer clothes and shoes and loaded up a Harley or in a Mustang or a Challenger to travel coast to coast… and I think of how I traded all of those highways and bylines for a little dirt road, the whole wide world for my little snowglobe life in my little snowglobe home, because I thought there was love waiting for me here. I was, as we so often are in love, mistaken. As I rolled my bicycle to a stop beside my magnificent flower beds and messy house, with my ducks and dogs greeting me at the fence with happy noise, I sort of asked myself which one was my best life.. and its not a question I can readily answer. I can’t tell you my best right now… but I will tell you my truth. I will open a literary vein, and let you see inside.
By amy irene white5 years ago in Motivation
Student Council
When I was in 10th grade, my mom decided to put me in a new environment and space. I had been home-schooled for several years, and my mom wanted me to become more socially active. I did not know if this was a good idea, because I was not used to socializing with kids my age and getting out of my comfort zone. My mother decided that it would be best for me not to go to school but instead join a home-school committee with public classes and activities for the average homeschooler. Not only were their fun activities, but the students got to make their own clubs if you were on student council. Very few kids were on student council and had a leadership role.
By Justin Diamond5 years ago in Motivation
Misery
Misery, it has been a companion of mine off and on for years, even before my mother died. It goes away, sometimes for months at a time. Sometimes it comes back after a few days. And I know a lot of it is of my own making. It stems from uncertainty, not knowing what I truly want, and not knowing how to figure it out. These days the misery I’ve been experiencing is stress induced, from people pushing me to do what they expect me to do. Deep down, I know I should be doing these things, but I want to do them on my schedule, not someone else’s.
By Heather A Mayson5 years ago in Motivation
Slowing down was a life-and-death decision for me
I had a serious concussion before I learned to slow down. Being in a hurry is a bad habit most of us have picked up working in a society dedicated to "the cult of speed," as Carl Honoré so poetically phrases it in his book In Praise of Slowness.
By Thomas Tortorich5 years ago in Motivation
NEKKID
I should have known there was something wrong when Casey Pryor asked me to go to prom. There really was several wrong parts to that; I had no idea that he even knew I existed and, even if he did, why me? Up until that day in High School I had been a pariah. Yes, hard to believe but being overweight in school (BTW ANY school- college was no different) is the worst social condition. Taunted, teased tortured made fun of. I dreaded Monday morning and I could not wait for Friday.
By CHRISTINE LEE BUHR5 years ago in Motivation
