Tag: self love
Listen to the Sex, Love, and the Self Podcast
We all want to improve our lives. Or, at least, most of us do. And for many of us, that desire pushes us toward realizations about ourselves and how we can grow. Be better. To ENJOY MORE. I’ve always spent a lot of time in the fields of personal and spiritual study. Hell, it’s the…
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Real life inspires me. Or, more accurately, crazy, ridiculous, beautiful stuff lands in my life. And when it does I want to use it to GROW. To thrive. I generally distill down the emotional and spiritual awarenesses in order share the messages and realizations with the world through the Podcast or Blogs. And for those…
Breaking Down the Walls of RECEPTION
I just wanted to be ALONE, damn it. But the Universe brought in a sledgehammer to bust down my walls
Egg In My Hair
I stink. No, like I actually stink. A lot. It seems that no matter how much I scrub, shave, or employ my hippy-style deodorant, I always smell just a little bit like garlic and onion. Which is especially weird because I don’t eat many onions. I do eat a lot of garlic though. I know…
When “I was wrong” is right.
Years and years ago, after I’d made a particularly silly mistake… while driving… and talking on my cell phone…the driver I’d inadvertently cut off (because I didn’t see him, of course) followed me up the street screaming out his window until I pulled over and he could properly shame me on the side of the…
Being a being, sometimes takes some doing.
I got older this weekend. I mean, of course I did – I get older every day – but this weekend the calendar marked the occasion. This fact by itself doesn’t bother me. In fact, for a couple of months now I’ve considered myself as old as the calendar just made me – and said…
Little Miss Fix-it
I do it a lot. A LOT. I don’t really want to be doing it. It fully contradicts my entire belief system in terms of the way we treat each other. It sounds both demeaning and pretentious as it comes out of my mouth. I cringe and bristle and scold myself even as the words…
Shine on, Stumpy.
It had been about a year or so, I suppose, of attending classes at my favorite yoga studio in town with some regularity; usually the same three or four classes on the same three or four days. It was inevitable then, really… despite my desire to remain somewhat anonymous, keep my focus on myself, and…