Dear Q-Anon or Q-adjacent friends or acquaintances, or people I’ll never meet but who still believe this bunk:
What. The. Fuck.
Now that Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene has set me straight, my life makes a lot more sense to me. Discovering that I’ve been advancing the goals of a global cabal without even knowing it has brought me new inner-wisdom.
While plotting world domination and doing 20 tongue flicks will be hard morning…
Yes, for a while we'll consider it maybe the 'new normal,' but eventually it will just be what we're used to in the here and now.
Then we'll shift to what it was like before and what it was like after. From there, eventually a new generation will come and they'll say they can't even imagine a before.
Those who care about history or like hearing stories, will want to know our experiences, through oral or written storytelling, history or novels, or other kinds of generational recounting.
Those who don't care or have no access to pondering humanity's development, will just move on or perhaps occassionally think of it all as an oddity that once happened and say, huh, it was like that.
When you hit your 50’s, Jenny Joseph’s red hat poem helps. You start thinking about who you are and hitting life head-on, unapologetically.
You’re in your second half of life and a seize-the-day-mentality helps fortify the vulnerability that comes with that.
Why waste time feeling bad about being imperfectly human when you can embrace it and thrive?
How I view friends has therefore changed. For decades, I thought I should have more.
I lived with a pervading sense that to be me was to be lonely. …
Even though I was feeling sick and going through a fatigue spike yesterday, I’m feeling bad for having spent my time binge-watching Pose on Netflix rather than reading or writing.
This private ritual of reading about reading is habitual and it’s something that I hope will continue to shift as I heal. …
I find myself quoting Shakespeare a lot lately, and I’m probably not the only one.
Whether it’s the Bard, the Bible, or your Bubbie, everyone needs wisdom these days.
When the pandemic started, there was a spate of articles about mourning the loss of our current reality and adapting to the slow-motion, ongoing crisis. I recently did a quick search, expecting to see a revival of that topic since we’re about to close out the year. I haven’t seen much, so I figured I’d chime in.
Obstacles and Motives Pave My Compassionately Boundaried Way
In Cup 1, I described my decades long intransigent addiction to coffee. A cup a day is fine for many, but while healing from a boatload of chronic conditions, it’s not fine for me.
The definition of addiction includes knowing something isn’t good for you and doing it anyway, despite your highest wishes. Compulsive use despite knowledge of harm. I hate to say it, coffee, but that’s you and me.
I’ve explored my motives, both for and against coffee, multiple times. Being on an elimination diet for years still hasn’t eliminated my…
Describing the problem: To be the change, let’s first see the struggle.
With the holidays comes hedonism, and with hedonism comes guilt. Between toxic positivity and biting despair, this year is likely worse.
Compassion is the best, and perhaps only, response. As we ring out the old to bring in the new, it helps to see the struggle while we seek to be the change.
At least, that’s what I think. My coffee addiction intransigence is decades old, the last in a line of struggle that went from smoking cigarettes to consuming sugar, to coffee and caffeine. Having seen friends…
On the spectrum from healing to whole
I woke up not waking up, like usual, feeling a sense of dread about how the day was meant to go. I am supposed to rest, to be productive, and to find some mythical, intentional, liminal space between the two. To tread the line between resting, in order to avoid post-exertional malaise, and exercising, in order to avoid deconditioning which will also make me more fatigued.
Why is the onus so much on us, the sufferers of this damned condition? By the time you are calling it chronic fatigue syndrome, you’re likely to…
Everything about my recent transition to unemployment and homeschooling is disorienting, including how I define myself. I’ve worked since I was legally able, always with a focus on earning. That is, until a month ago.
And now, in the day to day of my intricate, intentional task management system, my efficiency mindset is confounded. I don’t know how to define myself.
Fifty seven years after Betty Friedan called the malaise of white middle class housewives “the problem with no name,” we still need clarity of nomenclature.
I was a “working mom” my daughter’s whole life. I took three months of…
I’ve tried at times to explain my medical history to Mexican healthcare providers or to share my fertility story in passing conversations, but I haven’t had the right Spanish words for dilation and curettage. ‘Dilitación y legrado’ or ‘dilitación y raspado,’ Google Translate tells me.
Communicating via Google Translate is like using a condom. A film between me and the rest of humanity blocking the fullness of my creation from touching others. Dissatisfying, but my words still do get through. …
Certified Functional Health Coach and nonprofit hack. Cofounder, Health Coaches Without Borders. Where individual wellness meets societal wellbeing.