It's All About the Journey

These early mornings when I'm awake before 4, I sometimes feel as if I'm stealing time; a few precious hours I hadn't counted on and therefore hadn't accounted for. I guiltlessly read a novel and sip a huge pot of coffee slowly, from my favorite mug, brought to me across the ocean from that place where my blood flowed from. It's usually after I spend an hour or more tossing and turning, gently, so I don't disturb the cat asleep on my legs. I'm his second choice in the house, but with a closed door, you take what will have you. He's had enough suffering for all nine lifetimes and I plan to let him suffer not another moment. I'm focused on our mission this week. In fact, I've spent a great deal of time focused on our mission. I think in our hearts, it's the same one, all of us expressing what we want in different ways. I don't think I've ever felt like a handful of people could disassemble and reassemble their parts into an equal number...

I had a hard conversation the other night with my sister. It eventually boiled down to setting boundaries because the experience she was living through was too heavy for me in the same place to carry with her. I hate the line of thinking that tells me it's because I've sorted through as much of that as I can right now and the rest will have to wait for me to catch it. I told her to maybe speak to a therapist. Then she told me that "our therapists can't understand us because it's our family." Well, that's exactly why you should talk to a therapist about these things. That whole objective opinion thing is powerful. I also balked hard at her telling me that my experience and hers were the same. After she explained to me how our experiences were not at all the same. Make up your mind, please. Can anyone around me just make up their own damn mind? Where she is — I've been there. I've left that. The feeling that you have to know why. Expecting someone wh...