I welcome all feedback and look forward to reading your comments. Please be respectful of everyone's voice. My intention is to create a safe, secure place where people can be completely vulnerable and express themselves fully without fear or inhibitions of being judged or criticized. I ask that you respond not react. Practice the art of mindfulness in your comments.
"When one experiences truth, the madness of finding faults with others disappears" - S.N. Goenka.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
My dad signaled when he was about to strike. His round, hairless head turned a bright shade of red while his lips pressed so tightly together, they lost their color. Like a gazelle looking up in a nature film my body became aware of an impending danger. It was when my Dad’s upper lip virtually disappeared and his bulging, eyes shifted from green to a devilish red – that I knew I’d better start running. His glare was so frightening; I literally felt the wrath of God. I ran with the same fierce, life-saving determination of a gazelle that spots a salivating leopard ready to pounce. Nothing stood in my way from trying to escape his rage. I turned over chairs, moved tables, jumped furniture - all with the gripping hope of making it to the door in enough time to open it.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
happened during my third year in college when I enrolled in a course entitled Mind, Body Medicine. The course was a requirement for my Health Science major and, in hindsight, a fortunate obligation. I was in my early twenties, on the brink of adulthood - somewhere between reckless, insecure teen and responsible, "in-control" adult. Everything in this world was possible, where you know the rules to success and you agreeably play the game. But where trepidation and inhibition keep you bound to perpetual self-doubt. And yes, smoking lots of pot and drinking beer through funnels seemed to be the most effective way to cope.