Photograph by Brenda Coffee
Like most of us I’ve faced a lot of tough times in my life. I’ve given up my power and my voice more than once. I loved a man I should have left—he almost killed me—but instead of learning from my mistake, I did it again. I loved another man I should have left sooner. And just when I thought I’d let go of the toxic patterns I seemed destined to repeat, I was taken, at gunpoint, in Guatemala.
There are some things you think you’ll never survive, and when you do, you’re certain you’ll never heal, but I’m here to tell you that’s not true.
Last September, while struggling to finish my book, I decided to work with a personal coach with a decidedly spiritual approach. Part of her system was daily meditation. I found myself resistant. My ego kept saying it was a waste of time. She suggested committing to just five minutes, morning and evening. I agreed to try. Continue Reading
Last weekend a friend and I went to a convent. No, we did not sign up to be Sisters. In spite of the occasional appeal of a place without children or men, I fear the vows of chastity and poverty might prove problematic.
We went for a one-day quiet retreat. The start of the school year is always overwhelming, and I thought it would be nice to have a day to meditate and journal. Continue Reading
When I was learning to administer the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator personality assessment, we did an exercise to see if we relied mostly on thinking or feeling. At the end of the exercise, all of the people who relied on their feelings were on one side of the room. On the other side of the room was a firefighter, a guy from the army, and me. The firefighter joked if we needed to bet on the last man standing in the thinking camp, his bet was on me. When making decisions, I always went with my head instead of my heart.