Happy And Healthy Lifestyle

“The body heals with play, the mind heals with laughter, and the spirit heals with joy.” ~Unknown   Today, I want to give thanks for two of the special God-given gifts I feel grateful to possess: my sense of humor and my sense of optimism. Every time I’ve tripped and fallen or have been kicked down into the dirt during my life—when I’ve landed on my bottom, or my face, covered in muck, with bruises throbbing and scrapes stinging—I’ve always been able to crack a smile and let out a laugh.   In 2018, I found out that my husband of twelve years, with whom I had created four beautiful little lives, had been having an affair with a co-worker. He had left the family abruptly the year before, with no explanation. But on Valentine’s Day, of all days, the truth was revealed.   I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. It was like something out of a Lifetime movie, except it was my life, and there were no cameras. Rather than succumb to the sorrow I felt, I chose instead to

“Take care of your body, it’s the only place you have to live.” ~Jim Rohn I hear this happens to so many, but when it happens to you, it’s unsettling. I didn’t know what was going on with me, and I wasn’t getting any satisfying answers either. Most days were good, and I felt fine and went about my regular routine wearing my many hats: mother of two young kids, human mom to three fur babies, a household-manager-of-all-the-things and full-time dental hygienist. And then out of the blue, it could hit me like a ton of bricks… the backache, neck pain, jaw pain, tension headaches, and even migraines. I would wake up in the morning with tension or pain in my body, but I had no idea how it got there! Sometimes it was pretty intense too, It would drive me bananas because I couldn’t put my finger on the reason why. Didn’t do any yard work yesterday. Didn’t hurt myself. Didn’t trip or fall. Didn’t shovel snow the last few days either. It was so strange. I had no idea what was going on. I re

“If you get stuck, draw with a different pen. Change your tools; it may free your thinking.” ~Paul Arden For a year and a half, I could feel a career shift coming. I had worked hard to cultivate a career I loved, but I began feeling disconnected from my work. The meaning I had originally felt from it was no longer there. Each time I started a new project, I felt tired and unmotivated. At first, I thought it might be burnout. So I took a few weeks off to see if I could reset myself into feeling excited about my work again. But when I returned, I felt the same. The things that I had built my career around, that previously gave me energy and meaning, no longer resonated. I thought about the type of work I did daily and couldn’t imagine myself still doing it ten years from now. But what could I imagine myself doing? I had no idea. I struggled and strived to figure out what a career shift might look like. I read several books, including Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life by

“The strongest hearts have the most scars.” ~Unknown I always hated pain when growing up. For as long as I can remember I tried to avoid it. Physical pain was uncomfortable, but emotional pain was the real torture. It was sometimes easier to have a fight and stop communicating than to have a challenging conversation. Disconnecting emotionally and withdrawing from painful experiences was my de facto subconscious strategy. I still pursued goals and succeeded, but this didn’t feel painful to me because I used my passion and bravado to drive through the long hours and grueling work. If I wasn’t avoiding pain, I was in denial. It cost me. Ignoring a painful feeling made me numb all over. Denying an unpleasant emotion made me oblivious to the whole spectrum of sensations. Avoiding dentists created more issues and massive bills down the road. Dodging challenging scenarios and boredom cost me passions and hobbies that could have led to a different career or a creative outlet. This contin

“ A proper grown-up communicates clearly and assertively.” This is something I have heard many people say. By that definition, I wouldn’t have classed as a proper grown-up for most of my life. There was a time when I couldn’t even ask someone for a glass of water. I know that might seem crazy to some people, and for a long time I did feel crazy for it. Why couldn’t I do the things others did without even thinking about it? Why couldn’t I just say what I needed to say? Why couldn’t I just be normal? Those questions would just feed into the shame spiral I was trapped in at that time in my life. But the question I should have been asking myself was not how I could overcome being so damaged and flawed, but how my struggles made sense based on how I was brought up. Because based on that I was perfect and my behaviors made perfect sense. I was the child that was taught to be seen and not heard. I was the child whose feelings made others angry and violent. I was the child whose ang

“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” ~Soren Kierkegaard Let’s be clear: This isn’t an article about positive thinking. This isn’t an article about how silver linings make everything okay. This isn’t an article about how your perspective on anxiety is all wrong. The kids call those things “toxic positivity.” No toxic positivity here. This  is  an article about my lifelong relationship with anxiety and what I’ve learned from something that won’t go away. At times the anxiety spikes and feels almost crippling. I have a hard time appreciating the learning at those times, but it’s still there. That is what this article is all about. Please do not confuse me learning things from something that won’t go away with me endorsing that thing or saying it’s a good thing. I would trade everything I’ve learned from anxiety for less anxiety. I don’t even like writing about it because focusing on it this much gives me anxiety. But I want to write things that help people. How a Bare Butt S

“Detachment is not about refusing to feel or not caring or turning away from those you love. Detachment is profoundly honest, grounded firmly in the truth of what is.” ~Sharon Salzberg A few months ago, my father informed me that he’d been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Although he seemed optimistic about the treatment, I knew that hearing such news was not easy. After a few weeks, I followed up with him. He ignored my message and went silent for a couple of months. Although his slight ghosting was common, it made me feel ignored and dismissed. In the meantime, I went to India for a couple of months. A few weeks before I returned, he reached out, saying he needed to talk. Although he wasn’t specific, I knew something was happening and immediately agreed to speak to him. It was Sunday afternoon when he called. After I picked up, I immediately asked about his health. He went on to explain the situation and the next steps of the treatment. The call took one hour and twenty-six min