A boundary in relationships with people, jobs, pets, or other obligations is the limit of what you will accept from them. It is also the limit of what you will give to them. These limits can be flexible depending on circumstances- your and theirs.
Do you remember The Sneetches of Dr. Seuss fame? It was written in 1961 and intended to be a satire of discrimination between races and cultures. When I look at the news or read an online paper, it seems we are living as either the "star-bellied Sneetch" or the "ones without stars upon thars." The polarity on any issue or between groups has risen to maddening levels...
We each have our own inner child. This person, energy, or inner self is you when you were small. When we are young, we are the center of our own small world.
I had been asleep to so many things. Obviously, my own emotional baggage accounted for much of my lethargy. I was in denial of how my behaviors contributed to my illness.
The tradition of storytelling has a long and illustrious history dating back from cavemen drawing on rocks and stone walls to portray news, warnings, or victories over obstacles all the way forward to video blogs and chat rooms on the internet. Everyone has a story.
During the Denton Family Reunion, we gathered at Old Mother Church Cemetery in Robbinsville, NC to honor our loved ones long gone this past year.
Many mornings I walk a 2.4 mile loop up through my neighborhood and back. I pass houses, yards, and street-signs as I wend my way listening to birds, insects and the occasional motor vehicle. Today is Easter Morn and nature was in full throat as the temperature kept to a brisk 39°F. - click the picture to read more...
“This piece looks good enough. I'll have Michael cut it to fit that frame I found at the church sale,” Bess said to herself as she scrambled down from the scrap wood pile out back of the house. “Yes. This will do just fine. A little scrubbin' and sandin' is all it needs.”
She got out of her nearly paid off Mercedes as she closed the garage door, walked up the steps and opened the kitchen door. She placed her leather handbag on the table and sifted through the mail her husband had laid there when he came home for lunch. A blue envelope caught her eye and she noticed her company's name at the top.
My beliefs hold that we are eternal souls having a human experience that we had a hand in choosing. Now we tackle the seeming conundrum of suffering. If we look at our existence as finite and short, as many do, having a difficult life would be meaningless.
Squash Blossom Press 