For many years I made it a habit to overeat as it always gave me the benefit of curtailing my emotions, sensations and tension.

A moment in the mirror I visit myself. I choose to peek because I seek to connect within. Life becomes what I focus on.

I trust authentic people, authentic circumstances. I feel safe when I witness humanness, not an air-brushed version.

I choose to be in the now, alert in this changing world around me. I am safe. Every cell in my body vibrates with energy and health.

My illusions are transmuting into inner truths as I walk my journey and listen to my heart. Change is happening at a much faster rate.

I stand before my inner fire and bow my head in gratitude for the losses in my life.

I read in a book that coming out has to be better for the soul than living one's life in various shades of invisibility.

I escaped through my sense of smell to a place of comfort. A few seconds became an eternity of an experience.

In the past, so much of my inside voice was negative, warning and scared. I never had anything positive to say.

Her hair hung below her waist bumping at the back of her knees when she walked. So much of her perceived identity was in her hair.

My tears were profound. The feelings, the depression. I slowly threw the journal pages and gifts into the fire, one piece at a time.

If I were to scooch right up to the TV and smoosh my eye against the TV screen, I can’t see anything and feel lost to what’s happening.

My shadow is still standing at the door patiently waiting to be recognized no matter how long she takes.

I worked in a job that required me to be focused at all times. I kept order in the office while my life was spinning out of control.

I’m getting tired of dragging around all this old baggage of emotional pain.

I am more than my experiences. I am the collective vessel of my soul. All of me is needed to go forth.

I feel so deeply it hurts to be human and at the same time the hurt is being human. Humanity is reacting. Humanity is waiting.

A puddle is one experience and a sinkhole is another. As I age, I recognize the difference. No matter whether it’s a puddle or a sinkhole...

We're learning we are all connected. What more proof do we need than to examine our heartache for what is happening around us. It all hurts.

My inner critic left yesterday morning. I have practiced silence for many days and have become more observant of my inner life.