Our words can be damaging or uplifting. Let’s choose uplifting.
“We need to talk.” “I’m busy”, she replies without looking up from her cluttered desk. Paint brushes, pens without caps and pieces of paper covered with scribbled half thoughts; ideas that rush from her so fast that by the time she jots them down they are practically illegible. She is resolve.
(By Corey Rotella, CNA Extraordinaire) Enough. I have been hurting. That is okay. I’ve been taking on the emotions from other people’s decisions. That is not okay. I’ve been angry. That’s okay. I’ve been isolating. That is not okay. And how dare no one see through my forced optimism and shaky gratitude into the aching
(By Corey Rotella, CNA Extraordinaire) I think the greatest lesson, the one that has served me the most is that life will never adapt to me. Life does not bend and twist itself to fit into my whims and desires and little plans. It’s just never worked that way. Years of futilely pounding my
(By Corey Rotella, CNA Extraordinaire) I put it on paper. I paint it on canvas. I reach in and drag up the very essence of who I am, my light and dark and discuss it with rooms full of strangers. I feel the sharp edges of my fear prick
(By Corey Rotella, CNA Extraordinaire) I think I can’t. I think I can’t. I think I can’t…I’m not sure at what point this week I began to feel like the little engine that couldn’t. Maybe it was after a difficult conversation with my Grandma whose mental state is less than I had