This is for my carers, givers, helpers, fixers, and doers out there.

The ones who make it a point, who make it their job, to know everything.

To be the most prepared.

To have all the answers.

This week, give yourself this:

The luxury of knowing nothing.

It felt like if I made the other person uncomfortable, then I would be the bad guy. 

So I’d swallow whatever was coming up – be it annoyance, anger, confusion - and tell myself it’s okay, it’s in the past, I’ve accepted it.

But I hadn’t. I had just resigned to it. 

Anxiety hates space.

It looks to fill every space with words, thoughts, and reactions.

It looks for what’s wrong, so that it can fix it.

It looks for uncertainty, so that it can attempt to create certainty.

But certainty does not exist outside of us.

For a long time anger was my strength. Then it was my weakness. It was my ally. Then it was my enemy.

Discipline doesn’t always mean pushing harder.

Be disciplined enough to know you have nothing to prove.

Be disciplined about where you put your energy. Burnout is not a badge of honor.

Be disciplined about how you treat yourself. Be disciplined about how you let them treat you.

One of the hardest things about being an addict is you learn not to trust yourself. Because while you might say what you know to be “right,” your actions tell a different story.

When our words and actions don’t match up, it creates a type of suffering that only self-hatred can make sense of.

We need courage to feel joy. Because anything that is worth having faces the possibility of loss. Grief, again. Pain, again. 

And the clarity to realize that one could not exist without the other. 

Some of us have suffered so long, to feel relief would be a betrayal.

Boundaries don’t guarantee that they’ll change. It guarantees that we will.

We have no control of what happens. Only our thoughts about it when it does.

What keeps us stuck is how personally we take it.

Balance isn’t about doing all the things. It’s about doing the one thing that’s going to make the most difference in how you feel. 

We don’t learn mindfulness to stop the thoughts.

We learn mindfulness to learn how to advocate for ourselves, no matter what the thoughts are.

Our desires will consume us if we let them.

Because the relief will be immediate - then damningly fizzled, gone, before you know it. And even before that happens, you’ll have already started thinking of how to get more. 

See the story through. Watch it til the end. Because you know how it ends. Even if you’ve never tasted this, you’ve tasted ten thousand things just like it. The name may be different. The ending is the same.

Perhaps the biggest lesson in acceptance is seeing others in pain and not being able to change it for them.

What was I fighting?

I realized the anger that I felt came from all the self-silencing. I wasn't really angry at anyone. I was angry at me, not advocating for myself. Not saying no. Not feeling safe and yet forcing myself to stay. Pretending things were okay to keep the peace, creating chaos and turmoil in myself instead.

What connects us more deeply than shared pain?

To know the loneliness of another’s sorrow, because we’ve self-isolated in mourning too. To know the heaviness of another’s grief, because our hearts have been torn apart too. To know the agony of shame, because is there a feeling that cuts us up more? We need our darkness so we can choose to love ourselves there. And in doing so, show others that they can be loved not in spite of their darkness, but because of it.

What truth are you scared of hearing?

What truth are you scared of telling?

What is it costing you?

Uncertainty feels big and scary when it’s focused on questions we can’t answer. And yet, it can feel small and hopeful when it’s focused on what’s directly in front of us.

When we choose to only look at this moment now, what once felt like fear may begin to feel like hope. We transform what used to scare us when we elect to face it. And in doing so, the tables are turned. We end up having power over what used to have power over us.

Time is the only thing we can’t buy back. It is the one thing people who are dying wished they had more of. What they wouldn’t give for it. And for those of us who still have it, what gives us the audacity to say “later”?