Our egos are built with thick walls fortified by our childhood experiences, our need to fit in, our want for success, our inner judge

I kept having a dream last night, my children suffering. It's so difficult to feel helpless when a loved one suffers. Easier to blame myself

For years I have been telling myself a story that begins on my first birthday when my sister was born with a hole in her heart.

Yesterday, I surrendered. I cried. It was a windy day. I sat outside in the sunshine, I closed my eyes and saw sands blowing in the wind.

We live our lives doing the best we can, seeking love and acceptance, finding guidance and direction. Fear divides us.

I chose to call close my inner child. I'm 8 years old, standing in the yard. If I had the opportunity to speak to her, what would I say?

I didn’t have adults around me who took the time to fully listen when I spoke. To this day, I'm sensitive to someone who's half there.

At times, I have been so overcome by words, I feel violated. Words have energy and carry the same force and effect as they intend.

I've felt lost most of my life. And now I reparent myself. I imagine myself as an elder, sitting in the upholstered chair in the living room

I've had a problem most of my adult life. But I didn’t know it. After 30 years, I started seeing it.

As soon as I stopped fighting with her disease, as soon as I stopped resisting, something drastically changed.

The mind sticks to what it knows soaking up knowledge by example or taught by often wounded teachers. I am more.

If I were to scooch right up to the TV and smoosh my eye against the TV screen, I can’t see anything and feel lost to what’s happening.

My inner critic left yesterday morning. I have practiced silence for many days and have become more observant of my inner life.

I say to my teacher I am not ready, I say to myself there must be more, I say to my friend you must be mistaken

My old self would feel lost amid the rocky goings-on with fingers pointing at me if something went wrong.

When anger is ignored, it’s a fuel that burns uncontrolled. Being creative helps me use my anger fuel.

One person at a time, people are living through incredible indignities, heartbreaks and losses. It’s the time of awakening.

I was under a rock hiding from the light, playing with denial and living in frustration. I wanted better.

I never knew how capable I was of dealing with problems. I never knew how deeply I could feel until life carved out the edges of my heart.