A Attitude of Gratitude

10/29/2024

We all want love, don’t we?

To feel it, give it, be surrounded by it. But here’s the kicker: so often, we misunderstand what love actually is, and that misunderstanding can cause us some serious heartache.

See, most of us grow up learning that love is about being wanted, pleasing others, and doing all the right things to be deemed “worthy” of it.

So we hustle, we try to be perfect, we people-please, thinking that if we just try hard enough, we’ll finally earn the love we crave.

And when we don’t feel that love coming back, or when relationships break down, we start to believe that maybe it’s us. Maybe we’re not enough. Or maybe we’re too much.

But that’s not what love is—not real, grounded, soul-deep love.

Real love is about showing up, not just for others but for ourselves.

It’s about being seen and accepted as we are, even when imperfect, or scared.

Love doesn’t demand perfection; it asks for authenticity. But that can be terrifying because it means showing up without our armor, without hiding behind achievements or people-pleasing.

Love is also about boundaries.

Boundaries are a huge part of love because they allow us to show up as our truest selves without feeling drained or resentful. It’s not selfish to say “no” or to put limits on how we give ourselves. It’s actually an act of love for ourselves and others, because it keeps us honest.

And when we love from a place of authenticity and healthy boundaries, love becomes expansive.

It’s no longer about what we’re getting or proving; it’s about what we’re experiencing, sharing, and building together.

But to get there, we have to let go of the myths we’ve been taught about love.

We have to trust that love doesn’t come from hustling, pleasing, or perfecting—it grows from vulnerability, acceptance, and the courage to show up as we really are.

That kind of love? It doesn’t just fill us up; it frees us.

10/28/2024

10/28/2024

Here’s the thing: we all get the same 24 hours a day, so how we spend that time matters—a lot. In sobriety, setting priorities isn’t about some long list of “shoulds” and “shouldn'ts”; it’s about getting crystal clear on what truly matters to you and reshaping your life around those values.

In the early days of sobriety, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by all the things you think you need to fix. But instead, focus on the essentials—those small, non-negotiable actions that keep you grounded when the world feels a little wobbly.

Protect Your Sobriety: Every choice needs to support your commitment to stay sober. When making decisions, ask yourself, “Does this align with the life I want to build?” If something risks your stability, consider it a red flag.

Connection Over Perfection: Seek relationships that honor your journey and make space for the real you. Authenticity beats perfection every time. Look for people who challenge you in ways that keep you grounded in your values, not your fears.

Self-Compassion First: Sobriety demands resilience and grace. Mistakes will happen, but self-compassion helps you learn, grow, and move forward without getting stuck in shame.

Grounding Routines: Your routine is your anchor. Start each day with habits that keep you centered—whether that’s morning reflection, exercise, or quiet time. Build a routine that supports you emotionally and keeps you grounded.

Prioritize Sustainable Growth: Growth isn’t linear, and that’s okay. In sobriety, focus on habits that nurture you, allow room for change, and do your best to appreciate every step forward.

Setting priorities while staying sober isn’t just about avoiding your drug of choice; it’s about fully engaging with life. It means making choices that really matter to you. When you know what’s important, you're not just working on recovery—you’re creating a life you want to live.

10/28/2024

💔 Growth is complicated and uncomfortable, and it often hurts.

But that’s because real growth requires letting go—and loss always brings grief. When we’re growing, we’re shedding layers of who we used to be or who we thought we were.

Sometimes, it’s old beliefs or behaviors that kept us feeling safe.

Other times, it’s parts of our identity we clung to or relationships that no longer serve us.

When we let go of what’s familiar, even if it wasn’t good for us, it leaves a void.

And with that emptiness comes grief—a deep, often quiet sadness for what we’re leaving behind. We don’t talk about it enough, but growth requires grieving the parts of us that have to go.

But here’s the paradox: this grief is also a sign that we’re alive, moving, and capable of change.

Growth isn’t just about what we gain; it’s about honoring what we lose in the process.

When we give ourselves permission to feel the pain and loss that come with growth, we create space for something new to emerge.

So, if you’re feeling the weight of grief on your journey of growth, know that you’re doing it right.

10/27/2024

"Do you love Me? Alice asked.

No, I don't love you! replied the White Rabbit.

Alice frowned and clasped her hands together as she did whenever she felt hurt.

See? replied the White Rabbit.

Now you're going to start asking yourself what makes you so imperfect and what did you do wrong so that I can't love you at least a little.

You know, that's why I can't love you.

You will not always be loved Alice, there will be days when others will be tired and bored with life, will have their heads in the clouds, and will hurt you.

Because people are like that, they somehow always end up hurting each other's feelings, whether through carelessness, misunderstanding, or conflicts with themselves.

If you don't love yourself, at least a little, if you don't create an armor of self-love and happiness around your heart, the feeble annoyances caused by others will become lethal and will destroy you.

The first time I saw you I made a pact with myself: "I will avoid loving you until you learn to love yourself."

From ‘Alice in Wonderland’

10/26/2024

When you feel like you've wasted your life or lost yourself somewhere, it's like being stuck in a place where there’s never enough—never enough love, never enough value, never enough of you that’s worthy.

This is the mindset of scarcity.

Scarcity tells us we’re not good enough, don’t have enough, and will never be enough. It makes us constantly strive to earn our worth by proving ourselves, achieving more, and seeking acceptance.

Recovery, however, invites us to a different way of being—one rooted in sufficiency.

Sufficiency reminds us that we are enough right here, right now, without needing to do or prove anything more.

It’s the belief that, even with all our flaws and missteps, we carry inherent worth that no shame or self-hatred can erase.

At the heart of this shift is something I call wholehearted authenticity.

This is about embracing the truth that we’re enough as we are and allowing that truth to shape how we live, what we say yes or no to, and how we show up in the world.

Wholehearted authenticity means we begin to release the masks we wear—the endless striving, the need to please, the constant proving. It means showing up fully as ourselves, even if that self feels broken, lost, or unsure.

🟢 Living Authentically: This path isn’t easy, but it is transformative. It requires us to embrace our vulnerability and accept that being human means sometimes failing, sometimes hurting, and sometimes not having all the answers. It’s an invitation to feel the full range of our emotions—joy and pain, connection and solitude, triumph and disappointment. And each day, we can choose truth over approval, gratitude over scarcity, and authenticity over perfection.

🟢 Self-Compassion: To start healing, we need to practice self-compassion. This means meeting ourselves with kindness when we feel like we’ve fallen short or are suffering. Self-compassion reminds us that it’s okay to be imperfect and allows us to stop getting stuck in shame. It opens the door to seeing ourselves as worthy, not because of what we do or achieve but simply because we are.

🟢 A Resilient Spirit: Recovery is about cultivating resilience—building the strength to rise after setbacks. When we accept vulnerability as part of our humanity, we stop fearing our feelings and start accepting them. We let ourselves experience everything life offers, understanding that even in our darkest moments, we have the strength to move forward.

🟢 Practicing Gratitude and Joy: Gratitude is a powerful antidote to scarcity. When we practice gratitude, we shift our focus from what’s missing to what’s present, creating space for joy. Even in difficult times, gratitude reminds us of life’s richness and brings us closer to a feeling of sufficiency.

🟢 Trusting Our Intuition: Trusting ourselves, especially when we feel like we’ve made mistakes, takes courage. But as we tune in to our intuition and accept that we won’t always have certainty, we learn to rely on our inner wisdom. This deep self-trust opens us up to new possibilities and greater alignment with our highest values and deepest desires.

🟢 Creativity: Giving ourselves permission to create, explore, and play without judgment is a way to tap into joy and authenticity. Creativity helps us connect with our unique perspective and reminds us that life doesn’t have to be about perfect outcomes; it can be about curiosity, expression, and growth.

🙂 The Path Forward

Moving from scarcity to sufficiency isn’t just about stopping behaviors or habits. It’s about transforming how we see ourselves, healing from old wounds, and finding a place of acceptance. It’s a journey rooted in humility—acknowledging both our strengths and weaknesses while embracing our humanity.

It’s about dropping the act of being “good enough” for others and realizing that vulnerability, courage, and connection are what really make us whole.

Ultimately, recovery is about remembering that we are enough, just as we are, in all our imperfections and flaws.

By choosing humility, vulnerability, and wholehearted authenticity, we begin to reclaim our lives.

We reconnect with our inner wisdom, start trusting ourselves, and find safety in our hearts.

This is how we rediscover that childlike sense of awe and wonder, where life becomes rich with possibility, and we remember that we are worthy of love and belonging.

10/24/2024

When we start talking about spirituality, especially to someone who's feeling cynical about God, it can feel like we're stepping into quicksand—there's so much baggage, so many misconceptions.

But here’s the thing: spirituality doesn't have to be about religion, or even God.

At its core, it’s really about something much more fundamental: connection—connection to ourselves, to the people we love, to the world around us, and, ultimately, to what gives our lives meaning.

Let me break it down. The word spirit comes from the Latin spiritus, which literally means breath, life, vigor. Think about that for a second: breath. Every single time you inhale, you're experiencing the most basic connection to life itself. You don’t have to believe in God to recognize that breath keeps you alive. And that’s what I’m talking about when I say spirituality—it's whatever makes you feel more alive, more present, more connected to your humanity.

For some people, that connection comes from religious practices, and that’s great if it works for them. But for others, it comes from different sources—like being out in nature, listening to music, or creating something with their hands. Maybe it’s spending time with loved ones or sitting quietly in a moment of stillness. Spirituality isn’t a one-size-fits-all kind of deal, and it sure as hell doesn’t demand a religious framework to matter. It’s about what makes you feel grounded and gives you strength.

Now, whether you believe in God or not doesn’t change the fact that we all have a spiritual self. That part of you that looks for meaning when things get tough, the part that finds beauty in the world or reaches out for connection—that’s your spirit. It’s the energy that flows through you and reminds you that you’re alive. You don’t have to call it God. You don’t have to subscribe to any religious doctrine to access it. What matters is that you honor it, that you tap into whatever gives you a sense of purpose and hope.

Here’s the truth: spirituality doesn’t have to be something mystical or otherworldly. It’s not about reaching out for some divine power that feels distant or unattainable. Sometimes, spiritual power is as simple as a deep breath when you’re overwhelmed or finding peace in the middle of the chaos. It’s those little moments that restore your hope, remind you of your resilience, and help you keep going.

For some people, that might look like prayer or meditation. For others, it might come from journaling, yoga, or even laughing with a friend. Spirituality is as unique as we are, and that’s what makes it so powerful—it’s about what enhances your life, what makes you feel connected to yourself and the world around you.

We’re hardwired for connection. We’re built to seek meaning, even when the world feels like a mess. And whether you call it God, spirit, or just something more, we all have an instinct to reach for something bigger than ourselves when life feels too heavy to carry on our own.

Here’s what I know: the key to spiritual healing isn’t about nailing down the “right” belief system. It’s about finding what grounds you, what makes you feel whole, what reminds you of your strength. Whether that’s faith in a higher power, in the love of the people around you, or in your own resilience, that’s where the healing begins.

So, if you’re struggling with the concept of God or what you think you should believe, I want to invite you to stop and ask yourself: what makes you feel most alive? What gives you hope when you’re in the trenches? What makes you feel connected, even when life feels disconnected?

Whatever that is—that’s your spiritual resource. And you don’t need anyone’s permission to lean into it. You don’t need to fit it into a box or give it a specific name. It’s yours to explore and honor in whatever way feels right for you.

In the end, faith is about trusting the energy that gives you life—whether that comes from God, nature, relationships, or within yourself. It’s about recognizing that, no matter how hard things get, something within you is still vibrant, still resilient, still capable of compassion, creativity, and love. That’s the spiritual truth that connects us all—no matter what we believe.

10/23/2024

When someone asks, “How are we supposed to love God if He allows all these terrible things to happen—poverty, violence, wars, natural disasters, loss? Why do bad things happen to good people?”—they’re not just asking about God. They’re asking about the nature of suffering, the depth of pain, and where we fit into all of it. And let me tell you, this is one of the hardest and most vulnerable conversations we can have.

It’s helpful to start by acknowledging the pain and uncertainty in the question. These aren’t just intellectual puzzles—they’re deeply personal, often coming from places of loss, heartbreak, and the kind of hurt that shakes us to our core. When we experience tragedy or witness injustice, we challenge everything we think we know about fairness, safety, and goodness. It feels like the ground falls out from beneath us, and we start asking, “Why?” And maybe, “Where’s God in all of this?”

Here’s what I know, when people are hurting, what they need most is not a neat answer or a tidy explanation.

They need connection.

They need empathy.

They need to be seen and heard in their pain.

So when someone asks this kind of question, the most important thing we can do is sit with them in that discomfort, acknowledge the pain behind the question, and resist the temptation to offer easy answers.

Now, when it comes to the question of why bad things happen, here’s what I believe: life is hard and filled with uncertainty. Pain and suffering are inevitable parts of the human experience.

No magic formula or belief system will protect us from that.

Whether or not you believe in God, suffering is part of the deal.

But what we do with that suffering—how we respond to it and show up for one another in it—is where faith, courage, and love come in.

For some people, the existence of suffering feels like proof that God doesn’t exist, or if He does, He’s not worthy of love.

I get that.

It’s hard to reconcile the idea of a loving God with a world where bad things happen.

But for others, including myself, it’s precisely in the midst of that suffering that we find the deepest sense of connection to something greater than ourselves.

It’s where we find hope, resilience, and the capacity for love—even when everything else seems to be falling apart.

When we talk about God and suffering, we have to move beyond the idea of God as some kind of cosmic vending machine—where if we’re good enough, faithful enough, or say the right prayers, we get what we want. If we don’t, then God must not care.

That’s not how life works, and I don’t believe that’s how God works either.

God isn’t a force that controls everything, handing out blessings or punishments based on some moral scorecard.

Instead, I believe God is present in the midst of our pain, not as someone who removes the suffering but as a source of strength, comfort, and love that helps us endure it.

God is found in the way we show up for each other, in the way we offer compassion, and in the way we hold space for each other’s hurt. God is in the love we extend, even when life is unfair and painful.

As for why we’re supposed to love God, I don’t think it’s about loving an abstract being who’s responsible for everything that happens in the world.

It’s about loving the divine spark in ourselves and others—the part of us capable of empathy, kindness, and connection, even in the darkest times. When we love that and nurture that spark, we bring light into the world, and that’s where healing happens.

The truth is, we don’t always get to understand why bad things happen.

But we do get to choose how we respond to them.

We can choose whether we allow suffering to harden or open us up.

Whether we let it disconnect us or deepen our capacity for love and compassion. The world can be harsh, unpredictable, and full of pain, but it can also be beautiful, filled with moments of connection, joy, and love.

In the end, loving God means loving what’s good, what’s kind, what’s just, and what’s beautiful in the world—and that includes loving each other, even through the hard stuff.

That’s how we find meaning in the mess and hope in the struggle. That’s how we heal.

10/23/2024

Spiritual bypassing is one of those concepts that’s hard to talk about because it feels counterintuitive at first.

I mean, spirituality is supposed to be a source of comfort and healing, right? But here’s the thing: when we use spirituality to bypass or avoid difficult emotions or uncomfortable truths, we’re not healing—we’re hiding.

Let me explain.

Spiritual bypassing happens when we use spiritual beliefs or practices to avoid facing the hard stuff: our pain, our trauma, and our shame. Instead of doing the real work of sitting with our vulnerability and feeling the discomfort, we lean into spiritual platitudes or practices to skirt around the messiness of being human. It sounds like this: “Everything happens for a reason,” or “Just think positive,” or “It’s all in God’s plan, so don’t worry.”

Now, don’t get me wrong—there is wisdom and comfort in spirituality. I know from my own life how important faith, hope, and belief can be in hard times. But when we use those beliefs to skip over the real work of processing our pain, we’re not growing. We’re stagnating.

Here’s where spiritual bypassing becomes a problem: instead of leaning into our humanity—into the grief, fear, shame, and anger—we lean into spiritual ideals that can minimize or dismiss those emotions. We use spirituality to numb instead of heal, and we all know how dangerous numbing can be. Whether it’s alcohol, food, work, or spirituality, when we use anything to avoid our feelings, we cut ourselves off from the deeper work of healing.

I’ve seen this in my own life and heard it from so many people I’ve worked with. We want to skip over the hard parts. We want to jump straight to peace, joy, and transcendence. But here’s the simple truth: you can’t bypass the human experience and expect to grow spiritually. It doesn’t work like that. If we don’t deal with our pain, it will haunt us.

The real power of spirituality comes when it’s paired with vulnerability and courage. It’s about using faith and spiritual practices to hold us steady while we do the work of feeling the hard emotions. It’s not about pretending the pain isn’t there or slapping a positive affirmation on it. It’s about saying, “This hurts. This is hard. And I’m going to lean into it, knowing that my spirituality gives me the strength to sit with what’s real.”

When we use spirituality to bypass our emotions, we miss out on the full human experience. We miss out on the depth of growth that comes from walking through the fire, from allowing ourselves to be cracked open by life’s challenges, and from letting that vulnerability lead us to real transformation.

So, here’s the bottom line: authentic spirituality doesn’t ask us to transcend our humanity—it asks us to embrace it. It invites us to show up fully, with all our messiness and imperfections, and trust that we can hold both the light and the dark, the joy and the sorrow, the faith and the doubt.

Healing happens when we stop trying to bypass the hard stuff and instead let spirituality be a companion on the journey—a source of strength and compassion as we do the work of being human.