Husband, father, writer and. I love blogging about family, humanity, health and writing
Recently, I have observed that many of us feel that we are reacting to life rather than creating it Maybe some of us get stuck in a job that we don't think is challenging or fulfilling our potential. Or, we always feel left behind -- the demands of running errands, tasks, and bills keep us playing catch-up. Some of us struggle to find a meaningful balance between family and career.
By gaozhen2 years ago in Humans
I know I should say something, but the thought of opening my mouth scares me. I sat in silence, suffering alone. The longer I waited for him to notice me, the more excited I became. Feelings of anger, insult, and rejection spread through my body, heating up every inch of me from the inside.
When I walked into my local yoga studio for a class on that blustery Monday night, I was not in the best of spirits. A series of questions, large and small, ran through my mind. I felt depressed, helpless and, most of all, lost.
If my life had been perfect, I might never have learned anything. Or at least not something important. I used to have a naive view of relationships. I believe with all my heart that if two good people get together and make a real effort to be kind to each other, then everything will be fine.
The first time I meditated was about six years ago. Like many people, I was drawn to meditation - the desire to feel calmer and happier. I was a medical student at the time and my life was too stressful and busy.
We live our lives according to the patterns of the past, replicating the systems and dynamics to which we have become accustomed.
Six years ago, I took one of the boldest actions of my life. I traveled alone halfway around the world to Ubud (Bali), Indonesia. In June 2008, I was 27 years old and had never left the United States, despite my constant desire to do so.
My mother, an unwavering spiritual woman who was always looking for a way to deepen her understanding of herself and others, recently attended a meeting at our church where she served as a prayer practitioner.
I always wanted to be an artist. I deeply admire the life of the painter, the writer, the kinder, the quarreler of life. I long to be one of them.
It is said that there is a common exercise for first-year art majors in which the teacher divides the students into two groups and assigns different assignments to each group.
Three years ago, I was depressed. I couldn't stop crying about the mistakes I had made, and I tried to dig myself out of the black hole. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't go back, and the only way I could see was through death. I want it to end and I don't know how I will live with myself.
You want to be grateful for what you have, but what if you were straight up honest? You don't feel it. For many, admitting the truth carries immediate shame -- the shame of knowing in a world where so many people are homeless or hungry; Or be harmed, abandoned or mistreated; Or are dealing with a serious illness or the death of a loved one, and not being grateful is very, very bad.