Month: February 2023

Cognitive reframe

February 24th, 2023
Available as a podcast here: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/F4opkNp3Lxb

We all struggle with our internal critic. The one that instinctively uses negative reinforcement any time we are unhappy with something about ourselves. This post is about reframing things when we catch ourselves in negative reinforcement land, so we can become more confident and secure in ourselves – which leads us to more success. I ask my students to do this, too. It’s positive reinforcement time!

This is one of the things I talk about with acquaintances the most. Whenever I meet someone and I see their insecurity we usually end up talking about cognitive reframe. I get a read on them and I try to test whether such a conversation is on the table for them. It isn’t always. However, when it is a conversation they’re ready to have, it can set them on a path to finding their security and confidence. There is a relief of weight when we let go of our inner critic enough to believe in our ability. This is harder when someone is indecisive, but the core behind the indecisiveness and the insecurity is the same.

The indecisiveness (for me) is an extension of a desire to not “step on any toes” or “be difficult.” Sort of hilarious, because it can really infuriate some people when I’m indecisive (hahaha!) I know a lot of indecisive people, like me. We can have these standoffs of indecisiveness that I always turn into silliness because, WOW, we’re ridiculous. Both of us, trying not to infringe on the other persons wants or needs and be a people pleaser. This is when the more confident side of me will sometimes step in and either suggest something or find a way to humorously make it their decision.

The insecurity is more an extension of a desire to be accepted, not judged. When we want something we do to be accepted, we are putting weight in the judgement of someone else. If we find security in ourselves, then their judgement becomes secondary. The approval of others is a rather alluring thing… when we receive that approval it can elate us. We know that there is grace in being humble, so no matter how much we like ourselves and what we do, that perspective lends us to believe that we’re only as good as what others tell us. If we think we’re good, but they don’t, then where does that leave us? Honestly, I would say: learn to trust yourself, love yourself, but still be gracious.

I love singing. I always have. However, it’s a place where I hold insecurity. I would audition for musicals and my voice would shrink. I can belt a ballad, I can sing opera through my whole body, but I couldn’t sing at an audition to save my life. Why? Insecurity. When I used to sing as a child, I drove my mother crazy. (Don’t we all?) She didn’t like me singing along to her music. When I would belt “The Power of Love” by Celine Dion, she told me to go outside to sing. In her defense, I’m sure my voice as a child was still learning and growing, but I felt like my singing was awful. I loved to sing, but I started singing less and less over time. I loved it too much to let it go, but I took those feelings to heart. It took me years to start singing in front of anyone.

I did seek out training for my voice in high school and college, it helped. But, my insecurity always held me back. I would lose composure if I sang with anyone nearby. One of my best friends from high school walked by a room where I was practicing “All that Jazz” for a vocal performance class in college, and he was smart enough to stay outside because he got to hear how I really sing. He stopped me the next time I saw him and complimented me on how I sounded while I was practicing. It made me cry. Y’know, the way a sincere compliment does when you’re used to criticism.

Finally, sometime in my 30s, I started letting go of my insecurity. Why? Because I like the way I sing and I love doing it. I stopped caring so much about how others felt about it. So, if there’s something that you enjoy doing, that’s reason enough to embrace it and do more of it. Period. If you truly “suck” at it, everyone else can take their opinions elsewhere. Do the things you love, folks. Find some joy!

Negative reinforcement is the action of “beating yourself up” when you do something you didn’t like. Positive reinforcement shifts the emphasis from what you did “wrong” to how to do it “right.” First, emphasize the things that you did well. Then, when you hear that negative reinforcement start barraging you with bad things, reframe them. “I messed up that note” changes to “If I can relax in my shoulders and throat, that note will come out.” These shifts will change your life. You’ll find yourself doing better and feeling better in these things. I know I do. You can, too.

I ask my students to do this in mathematics. Some of the ways I do this are in Participation assignments. On review days, I will often ask the students to write themselves a pep talk, or write out the content they feel good about and then a list of what they need to work on (emphasizing the actions – what they need to do to feel good about them.) Occasionally, if an exam has a low mean and median, I will ask the students to do a rewrite assignment. In these assignments, I ask them to rework the problem, and then write a sentence about what they learned when they worked through it. I make it clear that I want positive action statements like “When we determine an antiderivative, there is always an added unknown constant that we represent by C because the derivative of a constant is zero.” (Note: the negative reinforcement here is “I forgot the +C.”) This is backed by research. Emphasize what to do “right,” not what went “wrong” and you will find your outlook, performance, and security all improving. Love.

It took too long for me to find a story for this one. I decided I would lump together my tools for the scenarios when I find myself in indecisiveness standoffs. The scenarios make me smile, hopefully you will, too.
1. Point out the standoff. Laugh about it. “Neither of us is willing to make a decision… hahahahaha.” Sometimes when I do this, the other person jumps in and makes a call because I’ve pointed out our standoff. When they don’t, I know it’s my turn to jump in and suggest a decision. This one happens the most frequently for me.
2. Make a choice just to determine if either of you has real feelings about the outcome. When given options, if you don’t think you care, but once a decision is made you feel a slight “awww, darn.” inside yourself – you cared about the outcome. Change the decision. This one is an extension of the last one, if you look out for any disappointment from yourself or the other person in the standoff, you can quickly change the decision.
3. Be obstinate about your indecisiveness, but with good humor. I usually do this with a playful version of “I’m not making this decision. Your call.” with a big smile that shows how playful I’m being. Even the most indecisive person realizes this is a challenge and not a demand, in my experience. They might get flustered, or still try to get your input, but if you do as I do: stay playful while also insisting that I will not make the call, they usually come around. If I see anything resembling panic, I stop and help them. I’m trying to provide a safe space for them to feel comfortable making a decision, panic is the opposite of that.
With work you, too, can learn how to take up space to become more decisive.

May you reframe your disappointments into actionable improvements and find yourself happier. So much love, -S.
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Mermaid girl

February 17th, 2023

Available as a podcast here: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/ypbrY77rBxb

I wanted to be Ariel from The Little Mermaid. I mentioned this in my last post, so it seemed a good time to expand on the more serious sides of this desire. As I said in that post, I loved the ocean. The ocean felt like home to me, and I wanted to be a part of it. There’s a lot more to Ariel’s story, though, and it is directly tied to the trauma I carried.

Ariel didn’t fit in with her sisters. She was presented as quirky, gifted vocally, and her father’s favorite. Not to mention her sacrifice to pursue a love outside her world. Her hoarding of things. Ahem. I was quirky, I loved to sing, and I was a “daddy’s girl,” too. When I was little, my dad was my pal. There are pictures in my albums of my dad and I passed out together on the recliner – from the days I was drinking a bottle through the time leading to my parent’s divorce. We played together, napped together, and loved each other. He used to give me a back massage every night before I went to sleep. No one has ever loved me like my dad did when I was young.

I was so often the new kid that I never found a sense of “fitting in.” I didn’t have siblings for the first 10+ years, so the only way I could fit in was through friends (my family is small.) It’s hard to make friends when the friend groups at your new school are already made. In first grade, even the teacher treated me like an outcast. My parents moved me to a new school, where things got a bit better. Listening to Ariel’s sisters resonated with the way I was treated; I felt judged and rejected by my peers. These feelings carried with me into adulthood and became part of my trauma and anxiety. Only through the continuing love and support of my adult friends have I learned to trust that I am no longer an outcast.

Ariel’s sacrifice of her voice for a chance at love is the original model for the sacrifices in my relationships. She sacrificed precisely the thing that was presented as her strength. A lot of people blame the film for girls learning that they need to sacrifice who they are to find love. I don’t know, it’s possible, but I think the feeling that love is conditional is the true foundation for that (see earlier post: Love me?) Ariel wanted to be part of Eric’s world. She didn’t feel like she belonged, and joining Eric’s world appeared to be a chance at acceptance and love. This wasn’t a situation where he imposed the sacrifices on her. Perhaps, instead, it’s an example of the manic state of teenage love? Teenagers, in general, are manic about love. They will sacrifice to feel the passion and closeness without concern for the consequences or cost. It’s the madness of love that Shakespeare talked about. It worked out for Ariel and Eric in the movie, though.

I related to Ariel’s need for a cavern of things to herself. I also felt a need to have a safe space to myself, and almost everything I got was hand-me-downs so I hoarded my things. One could say that I also had a collection of discarded treasures, so to speak. I was incredibly lucky to live in a small town where there were trees to escape to, fields to run through, and dirt hills to race over. Back in the days of kids running around on their own, I could escape and just sit in the trees. Sometimes I would read or write, but most of the time I would just wander and take in the trees. I recommend trying that, if you haven’t.

By now, I usually analyze further. This post is different; I’m opening up about my experience and the connection to Ariel. I’m going to tell you a story that isn’t funny. But, I promise to end with something that is funny.

The first time I had real feelings and didn’t immediately run/implode set me on a path to finding myself (unfortunately, I still ran/imploded in the end.) I found out how remarkably true it is that we fall in love with people like our parents. Yeah, it’s a cliché, but it’s stunningly true. When I look back, I realize that I sought out the love that I once had with my dad. My dad’s an oddball. So, there aren’t a lot of people in the world like him. He promised to put me first, but then he got a girlfriend – I wasn’t first anymore. He promised a lot of things that never came through, but that one was the one that broke me. My dad had been my cheerleader, but one day I realized that he was surprised when I accomplished things that he’d been so confident about the day before. The lack of followthrough and consistency in a relationship is a red flag, but when it’s your parent, you don’t know any better. I felt like no accomplishment was truly “good enough” because I never received the response I was looking for.

I forgave him for the lack of followthrough and for how sad I felt when his support was misaligned, etc. I forgave him again and again. I gave so much that I was the one giving him unconditional love, and the parent-child relationship became flipped. My dad truly believed that I inherited his mother’s soul. So, the relationship was flipped. He looked to me for guidance, love, and support. This is probably why I’ve had friends look to me for the same things my whole life; I had to grow up quickly and parent my dad. Before I cut my dad off, we had a long argument (the same argument we’d had hundreds of times, but more intense because I was a pregnant adult and it was in person.) I managed to deescalate and genuinely address him about his burden. He heard me in the moment, but like all the other conversations, he’d forget by morning and respond with vitriol. It’s why we don’t talk anymore.

So, the man like my father had the same upsides and similar downsides. He loved, appreciated, and supported me more than anyone had ever done – the most like my dad of anyone I met in my life. He looked to me for guidance, love, and support – which I was happy to give. However, he didn’t follow through on things. He freaked out about any circumstances that might risk hurting one of us. So, we both got hurt. I moved into a trauma space when he told me he was in love with someone else, still. I jumped back in time to the days when my dad chose my stepmother over me, and I tried to win his love (like I’d tried to win over others’) with messages of appreciation and love that could all be summed up with a “Will you choose me this time, Dad?” as the underlying message. Will someone choose me? No. I have to choose myself.

That’s the lesson, and the ending of this particular story. You will likely also be drawn to the complicated and messy relationships like those you hold with your parents. Any unhealed parental trauma will show up in your relationships. Work to heal that trauma first. I’m still healing mine, so I’m not looking for love – at least, not for now. Also: you might not find your trauma without falling into those relationships and patterns. You also might not find it without therapy. Good luck, Love.

I’m going to follow up with a funny and brilliant story about my dad. He wasn’t all bad, not by a long shot. Like I said earlier, he was my pal.

Something my dad and I both severely struggled with in our lives was a nail-biting habit. My dad’s fingernails were always bitten as far down as they could go, and when he ran out of fingernails he would pick-fidget with his hands. He never found a way to break the habit, not in childhood or adulthood. In my reflection on his situation, I can see that he certainly had anxiety issues and that was one of the presentations of his anxiety. I was a child nail-biter (I also had/have anxiety…), but my dad decided to hold a contest to see which one of us could go the longest without biting our nails.

The winner would get to “pie” the other in the face. I think he always intended to lose. He was an adult who had not been able to break the habit, but he found a brilliant way to incentivize me to stop biting my nails. It worked. I managed to break the habit after we completed our contest, compared our nails, and I was the winner. I shoved a pie tin of whipped cream in my dad’s face, he laughed and had fun with it. Bonus: I got to hose him off after! As a kid, it’s a lot of fun to pie your dad in the face and then turn on the hose and rinse him off. I have a picture of how soaked he was after, and the memory gives me joy. We had so much fun together, me and my dad. He was great when I was little. It’s why he has a special place in my heart.

No matter who hurts you in this life, you won’t know you’ve healed until you can think of them and revel in the good times you had with them. I hope you get there.

With love, kindness, and healing, -S.
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Love me?

February 10th, 2023

Available as a podcast here: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/gG9Uzsxnoxb

This is a hard one to write. I struggle with rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD.) Which means that I can have catastrophic responses to feelings of rejection that come from small versions “no.” I think my dad has it, too. Any small criticism would cause me to feel like I wasn’t worthy of existing. I was often further criticized by my inability to take criticism gracefully. I was labeled as a perfectionist, overdramatic, and sensitive. However, the foundation of these feelings was in a deeply rooted insecurity that I was not “enough.”

People pleasers develop due to the human need to feel loved when in environments where they feel that love from their caretakers is conditional. If love is conditional, then it’s dependent on meeting the standards of those I want to love me. This creates a hole in my heart because it presents such relationships as entirely dependent upon the giver of the love and satisfying their desires. The inherent message for the people pleaser (receiver of the love) is that they are only worthy of love when meeting those desires, and unworthy of love outside of those circumstances. The insecurity and dependency formed in this imbalance causes anxious attachments and codependency in future relationships. That’s been my problem in all my relationships.

I read it hundreds of times, maybe thousands: you must love yourself to truly love others. There’s so much underneath this statement that is completely lost if that’s all you take away from it. However, until you truly “get it” (aka “love yourself”) there’s no way to know what you’re missing underneath that statement. Let me try to elucidate it for you…

Before you can love yourself, you have to know yourself. If you, like me, spend your life as a people pleaser who keeps following the approval of others instead of looking inside yourself for what you want, need, and feel – you probably don’t know yourself. I didn’t. I mean, on some level I did. I was so used to being a chameleon that could shift into any environment that I have too many versions of myself that seem contradictory – I wasn’t sure which ones were me because there were so many and I spent time in all of them. Which versions of you light you up inside? Which versions of you are just okay? That’s how I found my core.

Now, to be fair, it took friends that knew me over several years to reflect who I am for me to see this. Who and what make you feel a giddy glee inside? Who and what make you feel like you have to work to please them? The former is your key, the latter is what we learned was “normal.” For me, I have friends that I can talk to for hours on end without ever getting bored or wanting to leave their side. Those are my people. They reflect the parts of me I love and they remind me who I am at my core. Friends: I love you. I love you with a bursting heart overfull of gratefulness for your existence. I love you with a million hugs and a desire to make you feel as wonderful as I do just having you in my life. I love you.

If you’re like me, now is about the time you might be thinking: “They don’t know the real me,” “I don’t deserve their love,” etc. STOP. IT. I was there, too. YOU are worthy of the love that people give you. They are choosing to give it to you of their own free will, and when you embrace their love instead of running from it – your heart will fill and grow. Realize that when you push back, or resist (hey, remember the post about flow? If not, go read it, it’s relevant here!) their love 1) you’re rejecting them (yeah! I said it), and 2) you’re not in flow. It’s important to be humble, but when someone gives you love, it’s important to accept it. Not just for you, but for them.

Rejection never feels good. Acceptance is the goal. Accept the love, and give in to the flow. Stop working so hard to please people (I need to hear that, too.) If you have to work hard and sacrifice to earn love, it’s probably conditional on you being outside yourself. If you know yourself: your values, goals, interests, style, etc. and people are asking you to compromise those things for their love: those are not your people. If you can be your wild, weird, crazy self (without hurting people!) and people still love you – those are your people. Those are probably the people in your life giving you the love that you are resisting. You are worthy of that love, and if you embrace it, it’ll all make sense later.

I tried, many times, to be the version of me that other people wanted. I love acting, so it was easy to play the part. But, if the part you are playing isn’t the real you, it won’t last forever and it will only eat away at your heart. Being someone else’s version of me ate away at my heart. It made me feel repressed, trapped in a box that seemed to grow smaller every day. Every time I chose to be someone else’s version of me I eventually realized I was depressed. Every time I ended a relationship, I would gravitate back to the real me – until I fell into another relationship. Friends are more likely to know the real me than romantic partners. Most of my friendships growing up were fleeting because I moved so much, so the fear of losing a friend was quickly relieved.

Romantic love, though. Remember when I said that I sought love in such relationships to meet the love missing in my childhood? Right. In childhood, those that raise us are “supposed to” love us unconditionally. Even if they do, the belief that love from our caregivers is conditional creates a hole. That was a hole that needed mending, for me. The people pleasing needed to be recognized and addressed. To love ourselves, we need to not just know ourselves, but also recognize and heal the holes that made us feel unworthy. I hope you recognize your holes, and that you know you have the strength to heal them. Love does not need to be conditional. You deserve people that love you for the real you, the you that lights YOU up.

It took becoming a parent for me to truly believe I was worthy of love. I hope, dear reader, that you find your worthiness before I did. Divorce is hard. Coparenting is hard. But, honestly? I’m the happiest version of myself because I have friends that love the real me, and I know now what I love about myself. I still love all the accomplishments that people pleasing got me. But, I love my heart; I love people. I love connection, openness, and seeing people. I love seeing people do things that make them happy; I revel in their happiness. I love being silly; I’m happiest when I can be ridiculous with people and know that they enjoy it. Ridiculous outfits, dancing in inappropriate locations, shouting excitedly, etc. I’m all about absurdity and physical comedy; it’s how I get my students laughing when things seem too awkward. What is it about you that makes you YOU? Revel in it.

My story this week is just a short story of me being me, because that seems fitting.

I grew up in the time of The Little Mermaid release, and I lived on the West coast near the beach. I love the ocean with a passion greater than a thousand suns (okay, how do we even measure passion of the sun? I’m just being poetical.) The ocean is like a mother to me, I grew up with her, I go back and visit her, sometimes I even talk to her about my life and ask for advice – it’s grounding for me. I think I loved The Little Mermaid so much because it was a movie about an ocean girl, like me. I wanted to be a mermaid because the ocean felt like home. I wanted to become one with the ocean, and becoming a mermaid sounded like the way to still be me, but also be with the ocean. Throw in the love story (which you know I was ALL over…) and it was my movie. I love to sing. I don’t talk about it much because it was severely repressed due to my RSD whenever someone would critically evaluate my singing. I sang all of Ariel’s songs, but my favorite was the “ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah” part when her voice is stolen. So, child me, used to find a rock on the beach and perch on the rock as Ariel to sing that. I wanted to be her. (There’s some underlying stuff here that isn’t funny, so I’ll skip over it – maybe post about it later.) It was cute, and gave my mom a laugh, for sure. The funny part about this story is that my mom encourages me to recreate these moments almost every time we go to the beach together. I indulge her, and y’know, when I was younger I thought it was embarrassing. Today, now that I love me, I indulge in those moments too. I embrace that child version of me, and I will sing “ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah” on a rock for that child, and for my mom. If you happen to see some strange adult singing on a rock like Ariel, you’re welcome. That’s my kind of ridiculousness. I love it 🙂

Love that has to be earned is not the love you seek.

I love you – for the real you. Find those in your life that do and embrace them. -S.
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The power of flow

February 3rd, 2023

Available as a podcast here: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/WcjxKZkmoxb

Perhaps you’ve heard of it: Flow. An almost trance-like state experienced when you are so present in the moment that what you’re doing is in flow, or in other words, so natural and connected that you feel “in it.” It’s common in arts, sports, and teaching. I love flow. I experience it in my research, teaching, dance, theatre, singing, and even in writing these posts. I might be a flow-seeker… if that’s a thing.

I seek flow in life. Not just my job, or my artistic interests, but all aspects of my life: Driving, skiing, walking, making dinner, cleaning a toilet… everything. The opposite of flow is any situation with a force and resistance interaction. Flow feels right. It’s the feeling you get when you feel like you’re “on the right path.” When we try to force something to happen, or we resist something that’s trying to happen – we fall out of flow and we, even if it’s lightly, suffer.

I’m guilty of forcing and resisting, we all are. We’re human, we’ll never be perfectly in flow. That doesn’t mean we can’t seek it, though. There’s a sense of calm joy that comes with flow, like the pieces of the universe connect and join you through the action. I was never particularly religious; I was raised secular. However, I did take the time to consider my spirituality and beliefs. I defined my ethics and morals based on principles of being a good human. However, I imagine that regardless of the religious or spiritual background you hold, dear reader, you can relate to an interconnectedness of the universe. That’s how I think of it. I think what we do matters, and we feel the connection when we find our flow.

I keep talking about trauma because it is a foundation for so much of my work and growth. I recognize that most of the times I tried to force or resist – the urge to do so stemmed from trauma. Feelings of fear or desire, mostly. I’ve admitted that I lost myself in my search for romantic love out of a desire for love that was lacking in my childhood. I forced puzzle pieces that were never meant to fit mine because I wanted that love so intensely. I tried to make it happen, again and again. I lost myself along the way every time. I wasn’t in flow, I was treating it like a goal-oriented task instead of a natural flow of life.

Love comes so naturally to me, but not that kind of love. When you combine obsession with a goal-orientation and apply them to love – it’s never going to go well. I can’t speak to finding real love, every time I thought I found it – I didn’t. I can say that it requires a sense of flow, because all the grand things in life have a sense of flow. May we find that someday, if you seek it, too.

We can never force anything that involves other people. We can try, but the reality of this dynamic is that it will harm one or both parties. In the case of force, it can become abuse, or a drain (as in my last post.) In my experience, force is compelled by desire, and resistance is compelled by fear. We resist the things that give us fear. It’s funny, (actually, it’s not funny) I’ve resisted love nearly as much as I’ve forced it. I resist those that have the potential for real love, out of fear. I forced those that didn’t have the potential for real love out of a desire to just “make it happen.” Like baking cookies: throw in the ingredients, combine with careful precision, do the work, put them in the “right environment,” then let them bake… you get love, right? No. Sadly, Cookies != Love…

Both the desire and the fear are stemming from, you guessed it, trauma (at least, for me.) The desire was trying to fill a hole in my heart, and the fear was of rejection by someone I genuinely cared for. When I write it out, it kinda burns… WTF was young S. thinking?! I don’t know. Young S. still had some stuff to work out, but let’s be fair: older S. still has some stuff to work out. If you declare you’re done working on yourself someday… I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you’re probably missing something. This life isn’t about winning the game (ha! If you know what I mean, you just lost “the game.”) For me, this life is about connection. Someone else said it, but it’s a journey and not a destination. What you do matters. Intention matters. The love you give matters.

Where am I right now? Love. It was rather recently that I said to people “Fuck love, I can’t do it again.” or “I don’t want to feel like this again. Every time I open my heart to someone, it’s promptly smashed.” or “Next time I have real feelings for someone, I’ll just rip out my own heart.” Resigned to my fate of single parenthood until someday I’m just old, living alone with 12 cats. I hope it’s obvious that this is extreme. I am a master of hyperbole. Because I fall in love every day with the idea of real love. I try to date people that are kind, but not in the search of loving them. Somehow, it still gets stoked and I have to recognize the fear and calm it. I hope you, too, can recognize your desires and fears – and calm them to find flow.

To wish you luck, I will use my favorite alternative from dance: “Merde!”

My story today is about a time that was sincerely lacking in flow, but the result was hilarious:

I’ve been dancing for as long as I can remember. I love to dance. I started ballroom dancing when I was 16, and when I went off to college I soon gravitated to the Lindy hop community at my school. Lindy hop is a fast-paced swing dance that is extremely dynamic, bouncy, and full of crazy lifts and tricks. As someone with a gymnastics background who LOVES flying through the air, I loved Lindy hop. So, I started dating the instructor… I was really dumb about relationships, folks. (Hahahaha… facepalm. FTR: that wasn’t why I dated them, at least not intentionally.) They weren’t that much older than me… okay they were 7 years older than me and I was 19 (shame face. You can laugh, I’m laughing about it now.) Cool. So, that came with the bonus of learning the dance quickly, getting extra practice, and opportunities to perform rather early in my progression. I got to dance with some great partners and perform cool tricks that were super fun and genuinely impressive – I’m super grateful for all that I did in that time. One of the performances that I choreographed, I was partnered with my best friend’s boyfriend. The only reason this story is funny is because there was absolutely no attraction or relationship between me and her boyfriend. One of the tricks we planned to do involves the follow jumping in a straddle, and the lead pushing the follow over his head… only I didn’t go over his head. I’m sure you get the picture. We were not in flow, our timing was off, and best of all: it’s on video in my archives! No, I’m not going to share it, and I’m not sorry about that. Your mental image is sufficient.

Stay in flow, and you won’t get hit in the face.

Love to you, but not the forced kind, -S.
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Shells from a Beach

Stories of life, love, and learning

Month: February 2023

Cognitive reframe

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Mermaid girl

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Love me?

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The power of flow

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