Happy And Healthy Lifestyle

“Grief is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” ~Jamie Anderson I knew my son was watching me. We were inhaling fistfuls of popcorn while Frozen 2 played on the screen above. (Spoiler alert…) Anna has just realized her sister, Elsa, is dead, frozen solid at the bottom of a river. Anna must carry on life without her. My son turned his body and looked directly at me, ignoring the film. He knew what was coming. I began to weep. This is what he expected. He patted my arm with his little hand, which was buttery from popcorn and sticky from sour gummy worms. Anna’s body slumps over, and her broken voice begins a haunting song of grief : You’ve gone to a place I cannot find. This grief has a gravity. It pulls me down . I’m frozen, too, within memories of the death of my brother Dave by suicide

“Life is a balance between what we can control and what we cannot. I am learning to live between effort and surrender.” ~Danielle Orner I was slumped against a wall at Oxford Circus Station early one Sunday evening when an irritated male voice suddenly barked, “MOVE!” Moments beforehand, I had lost my vision. Without conscious thought, I muttered, “RUDE!” and staggered off without clearly seeing where I was going. It was only months later, on retracing my steps at Oxford Circus, that I realized I’d been blocking his view of some street art. I’d allowed a guy to bully me out of the way while in a vulnerable state so that he could take a picture for social media. Lesson 1: Not all disabilities are visible. We can never fully know what someone else is experiencing. Mental health , chronic pain, and disabilities are not always apparent. So, when we come from a place of not knowing and are patient with others by default, we open up a window of possibility that exists outside of our

“The first step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.” ~Nathaniel Branden I remember the last time I saw him before my world crumbled. I held up my hand with the ASL sign for “I love you” through the window to him, as he mouthed the words back and got in his car to leave for work. I found out an hour later that he—my fiancé—had begun cheating on me a month before he had proposed. He never fought for me. Even during the course of our relationship, when he would run away due to his own insecurities, I would perpetually be the one fixing everything. That should have been a sign. But even as I stood before him and confronted him about his infidelities, telling him we could work it out, his pride was too wild. He didn’t fight for me. I am an impulsive and drastic person when I have been hurt. I have a tendency to pick up and move when things have gotten too emotionally rough, looking for the magic pill to happiness in the new places, faces, and experiences. It work

The small park down the street from my childhood home: friends and I spent many evenings there as teenagers. We’d watch movies on each other’s MP3 players and eat from a bag of microwave popcorn while owls hooted from the trees above. Twigs lightly poked against our backs. Fallen leaves graced skin. Crickets hummed in the darkness. The stars shone bright through the branches of the redwoods. Eight years later at a park in Montevideo, Uruguay, darkness again surrounded me. Leaves and twigs once more made contact with my skin. This time, though, I couldn’t hear the crickets or notice the stars. Details of nature were dimmed out, replaced by the internal clamor of a rapidly beating heart and shock flooding through me. By day, Parque Rodo bustled with life. Later that year I would ride paddle boats there with my girlfriend of the time. I would feed crumbles of tortas fritas to the ducks alongside my Uruguayan housemate, while he shared with me his dream to become a dancer in New York

“It’s up to us to break generational curses. When they say, ‘It runs in the family,’ you tell them, ‘This is where it runs out.’” ~Unknown I never even knew what I experienced was trauma. It was my normal. I was born into a world where I had to walk on eggshells, always on high alert for danger. I held my breath and always did my best to be good and to not cause an eruption of my dad’s temper. He literally controlled my every move through fear. I agreed to anything just to feel safe and to please him. I grew up with the example from my mum and my grandmothers that women were submissive to men. That men could do whatever; get drunk, not pay bills, blame, shame, and abuse their wives, and they would stay no matter what. They would allow their children to be hurt, as men were on this pedestal. I didn’t grow up in a violent home, but there was always the threat of it. It was the words that really haunted me for decades. They diminished my self-worth and self-esteem . I was terrifie

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson The world has a preference for the extroverted among us. In school we learn public speaking, and we are expected to raise our hand and participate in discussions. We act as if what we hear and see from a person can tell us everything there is to know about them. But what about the unspoken, that magical light that lives within us? Here’s what I’ve learned about being an introvert that has helped me embrace, value, and honor myself. 1. It’s okay not to love small talk. As an introvert, I grew up sometimes wondering why I was different. Quiet time felt like sustenance for my soul. I would relish in the serene morning glow, breathing in the fresh stillness in glorious solitude. Then I would go about my day. Often, I could get lost in my thoughts, which were then suddenly interrupted by small talk and chatter from those around me. It took me a while t

“Our words create our world.” ~Rich Litvin I remember when I was about seven years old, shouting spitefully at my mum, ‘’I wish you were dead, I hate you!” Her jaw dropped in disbelief, and I knew my words had hurt her, which made my young heart heavy. I remember being fourteen years old asking my first crush, “H-h-hey, do you fancy going to the cinema with me this weekend? To my surprise, she said yes, which taught me there’s never any harm in asking for what you want. Later this year, I’ll be standing proudly next to my beautiful almost-wife saying the words, “I do.” With those two simple little words, I’ll convey my love and commitment to her. Words are powerful. They have the potential to hurt and destroy and to enhance and create. Since embracing this truth a few years ago, I’ve become more mindful of the words I use. That is, the words I speak and the words I think. Here are four ways I’ve changed my words and as a result changed my life . 1. Swapping “I’ll try” for “I c

“When you’ve reached rock bottom, there’s only one way to go, and that’s up!” ~Buster Moon, from the movie Sing When I first heard this saying, as I was watching the movie Sing on my way to another continent, a small light bulb lit up inside me. As I sat with this sentence, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t agree more. After hitting my own rock bottom a couple of years ago, I know that once you get there, there is no place you can go that is lower. It’s the final breaking point. And if there is anything I have learned about the final breaking point, it’s that you have two choices: either give up or start over. This theory can apply to many aspects of life, like when you’re in a job or career that is no longer working, so you hit rock bottom in a health crisis or a mental breakdown. You have a choice: Be insane and keep going, when you know deep in your heart and gut that this decision isn’t right, or “give up” and finally pursue the career or job that you have always want

“Loving ourselves through the process of owning our story is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.” ~Brené Brown Lunge, turn, reverse, jump, land and rebound, push, pull, cut, run, double turn, fling, pause… Not good enough! Smooth the transitions, make it cleaner, find more ease! Heart pounds, ragged breath, muscles burn… You need more weight on the lunge and point your damn feet when you jump. Do it again. Repeat. Lunge, turn, reverse, jump, land and rebound, push, pull, cut, run, double turn, fling, pause… What is your problem? Why is it so sloppy? Clean it up! Do it again. Not good enough, do it again  carved a deep groove into my brain, branding it like a wild bull by a hot iron.  Not good enough . My mind, not my teacher, was brutalizing me, taunting me, teaching me “discipline” to improve my dancing. I improved—enough to become a professional dancer—but I couldn’t internalize or recognize any of my accomplishments.  Even after being asked to join a dance company before I gr