Recently one of my clients – and a dear friend – called me. I began giving him an update on his case and he said, “That’s not why I called you. I called you to see how YOU are.” Well, here’s the thing. This was my friend and I couldn’t just say, “I’m hanging in there.” Because I AM NOT. I am not hanging in there. I’m having a hard time. I’m hanging by my fingertips off a ledge on a wall. Okay, maybe that’s hyperbole. 

Hard times are subjective. But that doesn’t mean your hard time does not exist in comparison to anyone else’s hard time. I think that’s where we miss the metaphorical boat. I recall learning this from I believe a David Letterman interview, so I’m paraphrasing. What happens if you live your life exactly as you are right now. And when you die, G_d says to you, “Do you know, THIS is the person you are meant to be? WHAT happened to you?” I don’t want to be faced with that question, ever: “What happened to you?” 

Most of us live our lives in quiet fear and suffering. However, meditation teachers will tell you that suffering is feedback. By the way, that doesn’t mean you should add guilt for not meditating to your suffering. But I do know this. If I’m suffering, it’s feedback about something I’m not willing to accept. 

As I’m hanging off the metaphorical ledge by my fingertips, I ask myself, “Why are you suffering?” Well, the answer is actually simple. Suffering comes from hanging on to something that does not exist. So tonight, I am letting go of a ledge on a wall that I created. Because suffering is a state of mind. And so is freedom.


I was the girl

Who fought 

For every A

For every mile time

For every dollar

To buy the cool

Pair of jeans

So I could fit in

With the kids who

Didn’t care about 

Grades or

Mile times or

The cost 

Of a pair 

Of tight jeans.

I was the girl

With homemade dresses

Hiding behind

Bathroom mirror

Hand-cut bangs

Who evaded rejection

From boys

Who didn’t care

About dress stitches

Or crooked bangs

Or who I was in 

The bathroom mirror.

I am the woman

With hard-fought 


Sewn tight with 

Falling-hard scars.

And I am the woman

With walls fortified

By f*ck you bricks and 

Leave me alone mortar.

I am the woman

Who has learned


Keep love in

Walls keep love out

I must choose 


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