In my dad’s obituary, I wrote that he was "probably the nicest man you’ve ever met." Someone told me I should have never written "probably" because Marc Butler was undoubtedly the nicest man he’d ever met.
In yoga, there's a concept known as "releasing into." It's what we aim to do when we get into poses that are uncomfortable. We focus on breathing and "send the breath" to the places we feel tension and discomfort whilst trying to settle in beyond the resistance. We can apply this same concept to our lives.
I read something recently: whatever choice you make, it will be the right one because it’s the one that will move you forward in your journey. It will change where you’re at right now by creating new circumstances for your life, and those circumstances will be precisely the ones you’re supposed to occupy.
On August 6, 2017, I lost my favorite person on the planet.
I had my first "encounter" with depression my sophomore year of college. I remember the time and place of it like it was yesterday - and even still today as I reflect on it I can feel those first moments - the emptiness, the confusion, the loneliness and desperation. Sadness swept over me like a wave, and the lights went out all around me. And, more painfully, the lights went out inside of me. I had no idea what was happening, and I certainly didn’t know what to do about it.
It’s only as a result of difficult circumstances that trees grow in the direction of achieving their full potential…
I’ve been thinking a lot about noise lately. My upstairs neighbors are obnoxiously loud, to the point that I sometimes have to wear earplugs to get any peace and quiet in my own house. Traffic is loud, both outside my window and in the busyness of trying to get around in it. And there are just so many of us living in what feels like a smaller and smaller world that sometimes I feel like I’m crashing into people all over the place. And I hear clamor.