Categories
Life

The Cookie

We spend a great deal of our lives being afraid of the cookie, don’t we?

Too much sugar, too much fat, too much cookie induced shame (note to self, and the world: shame causes more damage than the cookie.)

If only we’d take a moment to just…love the cookie.

Just love it, and eat it.

It is a beautiful creation, gifted to the world by someone who understood that it was okay to enjoy our humanity while we are here on earth.

I’m no longer afraid of the cookie, and because of this my whole life has changed. The black soot of fear no longer owns every choice I make.

I just love the cookie. I love the cookie, and live my life being aware of any cookie danger, but not afraid.

I eat the cookie slowly.

The beauty of life is in the cherishing of it.

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Categories
Life

Shamed

Mistakes are our greatest gifts, and yet, we are buried in shame.

Do not make a mistake. Do not ever be bad.

We are shamed.

We are shamed.

We are human. Not one of us is perfect, not one.

I teach my children that their failures are the best things that could happen for them, their mistakes, beautiful lessons in how to do life beautifully.

Punishment breaks my heart. An eye for an eye, an ancient, barbaric way. And all of it pointless, in my eyes, because shame only drives the ‘bad’ underground, it doesn’t lovingly guide it to a better day.

Accepting our faults and carefully growing with them through life might work.

Shaming will destroy.

I choose the gentle way.

I choose self compassion, and compassion for others.

I choose…actually, I choose sleep.

I’m so terribly tired.

So terribly tired.

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Categories
Poetry

In Every Lie

There is a soft

quiet

truth

in every lie.

Categories
Life

Then Is Gone. This Is Now.

Her words lumped in my gut like a blob of warm resentment.

I was late. By six-minutes.

I would be charged a full half an hour extra— her colleague had been unable to go to lunch until my arrival.

The blob grew thick within me.

Tears wobbled but did not fall.

Breath came, deeper than usual because I asked it to. Because I didn’t know what else to do with the blob she gave me.

She was right. These were the rules, however ridiculous.

The old me would have met this trigger with a puddle of me, and kept it brewing until tomorrow.

The new me saw the pointlessness of keeping the left-overs and asked my pain to disappear.

Perhaps she was only trying to save me money for next time.

And here was my brain, instantly turning her words into a beacon of shame.

Whatever the case, the moment has passed.

Then is gone.

This is now.

person holding hands
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