There’s something that bothers me about the “I don’t want to see this” Facebook option.
There’s a cost to filtering out everything that makes me uncomfortable. There’s real arrogance at the idea of clicking a button to take away what I don’t want to see. I pretend to make it go away, but it doesn’t. It’s still there. I’m just not acknowledging its existence anymore. I’m removing my attention… Continue reading
Anger itself is not a problem. Nope.
Anger is often connected to unpleasant outbursts, to yelling and screaming and cursing at people, to heated arguments, to fights, to conflicts both verbal and physical, to abuse, to violence.
But anger is not the problem.
Anger is a feeling. It is not bad; it is not good; it just is.
Anger is a feeling, and a feeling is a… Continue reading
Being able to consistently control or stifle your anger is not a sign that you’re emotionally healthy.
It’s not a sign that you don’t have much of a temper, or that you don’t care, or that you’re super mature.
It’s a sign that you’ve learned, one way or another, to exercise great restraint over how you outwardly express your anger.
Sometimes this restraint is good.
It’s… Continue reading
I’ve been thinking about how often, as parents, we do most of our doing at this level we consider “above” our kids.
We don’t mean it in a rude or superior way, just that we’re all busy doing adult stuff and they’re in their kid world. Sometimes we bring them up into our adult world (let’s have a nice dinner out, let’s sit down and work on this thing… Continue reading
Do you find joy in the daily processes of your regular boring life?
Joy in the process isn’t an extra or a bonus or a maybe. It’s a basic requirement.
I’m serious. You should be, too. Joy is no laughing matter, my friend! Joy is essential. Joy is breath. Joy is energy. Joy is your birthright.
If you have… Continue reading
I used to go out to the edge of the yard where we had a tire swing hanging from a huge old oak tree. It felt far away from everyone, and I would swing and make up songs for hours.
It seemed like hours, all alone, the lift and fall of the swing, the almost dizzy feeling, the disconnect, and the singing.
One day I heard our sweet… Continue reading