 |
 |
|
 |
|
Thanks Little Orphan Squirrels For Making Me Whole
By Tammy Mackey
 My amazing journey began on April 4, 2004 at 7:55am. It was a day that I will remember forever. I awoke to a grey drizzly day, and the first item on my agenda was to place sunflower seeds on the railing for our squirrel friends who frequented our property daily for special treats. I enjoy seeing the wildlife come to our yard for a handout to help them along, especially when food is scarce. As I walked along the second storey deck, I always checked the yard below. I saw a lifeless grey squirrel at the bottom of our large maple tree. I immediately yelled to my husband Kevin to bring this squirrel inside. I realized that she was an adult lactating female which meant that there were babies somewhere out there with no mom. I had to find those babies. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Ailynne
By John Edward Casteele
 It’s a moment like no other.
Seeing your child for the first time on an ultrasound is a major event in any expectant parent’s life; you can actually see that little living piece of you, knowing that he or she is real. Unfortunately, not every child shown on an ultrasound is actually all right. My girlfriend and I had to learn this the hard way.
It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. Everything that you could possibly ask for in early spring. It was the day that we were scheduled for our first ultrasound, and we were both nervous and excited. The image of my child came up on the monitor and I was blown away… until the woman running the machine told us that something was wrong. She wasn’t picking up a heartbeat, and the baby’s heart should have started beating a few weeks ago. The image on the monitor that my world had briefly revolved around tore my world apart. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Cooking With Love
By T. Wayne Waters
 It’s a little past 8:00 on a Wednesday morning and 82-year-old twin sisters, Helen Ashe and Ellen Turner, are in the kitchen cracking eggs into wide-mouth wooden bowls. Brewing coffee infuses the air with an earthy aroma. Ellen gets a handheld electric mixer, plugs it in, and dips its shiny beaters into the yellow egg yolks in the bowl, a soft whirring sound signaling the start of scrambled eggs. Helen, meanwhile, turns her attention from the eggs to white rounds of biscuit dough she begins to lay out on a large metal tray.
The breakfast Helen and Ellen are fixing isn’t for them. It’s for the dozens of needy Knoxville folks who come to this special kitchen on the east side of the city–the Love Kitchen–twice a week, for a free meal cooked with care by the sisters and their volunteer staff. And for delivery to the hundreds of people in need who have no way to get to Love Kitchen. And for the hundreds more who come by and pick up much-needed emergency food bags; for, as the sisters like to say, the hungry, the homeless, the helpless, the hopeless, and the homebound. Helen and Ellen have been doing it for 25 years. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Rebirth: After A Home Invasion
By Chris Shin
 One day when I was about six years old, my uncle, my mother’s younger brother, was murdered and my brother, three years older, attacked with a knife in our house by the same perpetrator. We were living in Korea at the time; my father was in Vermont alone, pursuing a master’s degree. Miraculously, my mother and I were spared as we had left the house in the morning. Earlier that morning, my mother had gone over to a friend’s in the neighbourhood. I wanted to go with her but recall being afraid to ask for fear of being scolded. After she left, I mustered the courage to ask her if I could come over too. She said, “Of course you can” with such warmth and welcome, I wondered why I was afraid to ask.
Later that day, while my mother and I were protected in a neighbour’s home, a deranged man rang our house, pretending to be a salesperson, entered, demanded money from my uncle, stabbed him in the back and then attacked my brother. By a miracle, my brother managed to defend himself, escape and find us. I recall a lot of commotion in the neighbourhood, then standing out on the street and seeing my brother run towards us, crying and screaming, covered in blood. Everything else is a blur. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Grandma’s Best Friend
By Laurie Damer as told to Eric Damer
 Dogs may be man’s best friend, but I think a cat was my Grandma’s best friend. She had had several beloved companion pets during her life, but her last little cat was special. She provided unconditional affection and emotional support to Grandma in the last years of her life, when she needed it the most, and she even called for help when Grandma could not. When Grandma passed on, this cat then helped sustain me and my parents when we needed it the most.
Perhaps this last cat was so special because of the circumstance in which she came into Grandma’s life. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Can I Trust You?
By Jason Marsh
 A conversation between world-renowned psychologist Paul Ekman and his daughter Eve, with Jason Marsh. The TV show Lie To Me was based on his research into detecting lies through facial expressions.
Growing up in San Francisco, a city renowned for its hedonism, Eve Ekman faced more than her fair share of temptations, especially when she got involved in the local punk scene as a teenager. Like most adolescents, she felt the urge to do some things she knew her parents wouldn’t approve of—go to clubs on weeknights, dabble with alcohol and marijuana—and which would require lying about where she was going and what she planned to do once she got there.
But unlike those other kids, Eve has a father who is one of the world’s leading experts on detecting lies. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Dear Support Person
By Johnny Mackay
 It was all unexpected. Sure, life wasn’t grand but you know it was pretty good, I thought. In retrospect it seems like the changes took place overnight though I am not sure that is true either. My best friend and lover of 5 years decided to take up relations with another man. This was enough to force me to explore my own personal difficulties, shortcomings and relative commitment issues. I discovered that I loved her more than I loved life, more than I loved myself. Unfortunately, my new found passion for a life of solid relations with her and her alone, fell on deaf ears and I was told it was too late.
More than anything the ‘weight’ of the hole inside me was incapacitating, the darkness was unbearable, the pain relatively inescapable. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
From Ukraine With Love
By Diane Schachter
 It is a result of coincidence that I am writing this story about a unique family. I met Cathy while chatting at a local dog park this past spring. She spontaneously shared that she and her husband Martin had adopted five children from Ukraine. “Five kids, that’s a lot of kids,” I remember saying. But it was not until the ride home that it dawned on me that their story could possibly be a story for Thrive In Life. Too late, I had no phone number or knowledge as to where she lived. She was not present during any subsequent visits to the park. Now, here is where the coincidence part comes in. In autumn, I was taking the bus to the airport and just before I was about to dismount, I overheard a man saying to the person beside him that he and his wife had adopted five children from Ukraine. My antennae went up and I quickly asked if his wife’s name was Cathy, and could I have their phone number. He looked at me quizzically and provided the information on a small borrowed piece of paper as we exited the bus. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Quotes That Help You Make It Through Today: Addicted To Words
By Keith Needham
 Hi, I am a recovering addict and alcoholic who has also suffered with depression, anxiety and OCD. I enjoy reading self-help books and articles about recovery. These writings give me hope and I wish to do the same for others. I feel that one quote can touch your heart as much as a whole book. I have compiled an article with quotes to inspire one to achieve greatness and maximize their potential.
KEITH’S MOTTO:
Once you begin to believe in yourself, others will begin to believe in you.
Once you place a high value on yourself, others will value you as well.
Your dreams and goals become a reality to the extent that you pour yourself into them.
Create your own belief system and feel the power of the words “I can” and “I will.”
Change your thoughts and you will literally transform your life and the world.
Everyone who has achieved greatness or fulfillment in life started out with a dream . . . an unlimited power to create lies within you.
There is always a way to make victory out of adversity, so long as you keep focused on answers and solutions.
To get to where you want to go, it’s important to understand where you’ve been. But don’t let what happen yesterday affect your positive outlook today or your hopes for the future.
The means create the ends – and the ends will be great if the means is love.
****** Read more
|
|
|
|
|
A Transformative Moment In Sweden
By Diana Carr
 When my son, Ryan, went to Sweden in 1998 as an exchange student for his senior year in high school, he fell in love with the country. So much so, that he moved back there a few months after returning home with the other AFS students. He got permanent residence, then his citizenship, and now calls Sweden home sweet home.
I’ve gone there nine times, and I understand why my son wants to live there. Old World charm, cobbled streets, thousand-year-old marvels of architecture, outdoor cafes where people linger for hours, and ancient traditions like lighting bonfires on May 1 to keep the witches away.
But as charming as all this is, I have always found the people to be distant and unfriendly. They seem to pull into themselves, not talking to anyone they don’t know or making eye contact with them, or lending a helping hand if need be. So I had gotten into my head, an image of a people who were even colder than their climate. But that all changed one day in October of 2010, when I went to visit my son and his new baby. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Expert Series: Too Late For Your Dream?
By Noelle Sterne
Do you feel stuck in your job, your activities, your life?
Do you condemn yourself about what you could have, should have done differently?
Do you yearn for more, even if you don’t know what it is?
Do you suspect you’ve got something to give, even if you can’t identify it?
Or do you know what it is but haven’t been able to let it out?
Have you pushed your secret yearnings into the back of your life, like old photos in the sock drawer?
Like many people, maybe you live for the weekends or retirement. Maybe you promise yourself that then—finally—you’ll do what you really want to. Too often, these envisioned golden times never materialize. Why? Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Making It Through A Sad Day: PTSD
By Josie Sanders
 November Fifth. The date approaches again. Every year, like the first frost, it appears and passes. I have measured the years – and my progress through them – by this mid-autumn number on the calendar. As a person with PTSD, or post traumatic stress disorder, I find that the date on which the worst trauma in my life occurred is for me a day permanently etched in my subconscious.
No, I never served in a war zone. My PTSD is the result of what I jokingly call “domestic combat.” I am a five foot tall, one hundred pound person who was beat on for years. There were days when I thought that surely I would be killed. The most traumatic day of my life was not any of those events, however, but the day a judge set free and rewarded the person who hurt me. That may sound strange, but the effects of PTSD rarely make sense. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Ganesh
By Nayanna Chakrbarty
 It was a glorious day. Maneuvering the car every morning through the rush-hour traffic was a frustrating routine for many, but I enjoyed it. There were drivers who kept changing lanes and tried to nose in at the first gap between two cars. I gave way to such stressed commuters and used the time to eat muffins and catch up on the chart-topping music.
The morning sun glimmered, peeking through the lofty buildings. The rays danced on the reflective exterior  of the large towers and bounced its radiance on my rear view mirror. Quickly, I adjusted the direction of the glare, and the light now added a sparkle to my gilded locket. It was a pendant of Lord Ganesh. He is the elephant-headed deity of the Hindus – the destroyer of obstacles and an embodiment of wisdom and bliss. I clasped the pendant in my fist and thought what had compelled me to wear it always. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Y Yoga Movie
By Michelle Morgan
 On 13th September 2001, film-maker Arthur Klein received an email from a friend of a friend, who had escaped the collapse of World Trade Center Tower One, and had decided to put his feelings into words. The email was poignant, heart-felt and amazing, and after forwarding it onto some friends, Arthur left his desk in the middle of the day, and walked out into the Santa Monica sun.
“I left the office in my street clothing and went to a 1:30pm yoga class around the corner from work”, remembers Arthur. “It seemed like a far better idea to regain a sense of peace and wellbeing, instead of going to the mall and shop or go on vacation as the American leadership advised. The teacher was Ashley Turner and her words were magic… I went to that class every day for many months after that…”
Walking into the yoga class that day, literally changed not only Arthur’s life but his career too. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Lottie Dot
By Joanne Wannan
 Patricia Belt looks at a photograph of herself alongside her five-year-old Dalmatian, Lottie Dot, and can’t help but chuckle. Her blue eyes sparkle in the picture and she is obviously proud. But several wisps of hair have escaped from her upswept hairdo. They flutter at odd angles, some across her face, others straight up into the air. “Oh my, look at that! I’m such a mess!” Patricia exclaims. “I get so caught up with Lottie Dot, I never have time to think about myself, much less stop and comb my hair.”
It’s certainly no wonder. Lottie Dot is a dog with a multitude of talents and a chockablock schedule of places to go and people to see. She even has her own resumé, and it is truly an impressive one. Lottie has volunteered in 19 different facilities and received five different awards for her work. As for her interests, they include doing tricks, playing Frisbee, giving and receiving hugs, and capturing everyone’s heart.
What Lottie Dot’s resumé doesn’t tell you is that when she was only eight weeks old she was abandoned and almost froze to death in the snow. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Expert Series: Ten Steps To Personal Transformation
By Amara Rose
 The quest to discover and live our truth is the Hero’s Journey, a sacred pilgrimage home to ourselves. It’s the high road — and a rigorous one. We may try to camouflage our fear of the unknown with bravado, workaholism, or apathy. There’s another way: following the path of the heart. How do we find it? With a transformational road map. I invite you to join me on a mission to remember and reclaim your life purpose.
Step One: Give Yourself Permission to be Passionate
Our resistance is the Refusal of the Call. Change whispers in our ear, and we attempt a high-tech tune-out: call waiting, call forwarding, on hold, voicemail…
We fight change because acceding to it feels like stepping off a cliff into an abyss. Out of touch with our vital, intuitive nature, we panic and crawl safely back into the shopping center mentality. We resign ourselves to buying the leopard print pants because we’re afraid to be the leopard.
How do we answer this call to reclaim our connection to what’s true for us? We start by giving ourselves permission to be passionate, to dream beyond our self-imposed boundaries. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
A Piece Of Bread
By Evelyn Carlson
 When I was in my late teens, living in Indiana Harbor, a section of East Chicago, Indiana, most of the downtown businesses were owned by Jews. There was a Jewish jewelry store, furniture store, produce market, bakery, and clothing store. I worked at the bakery; the owners, Mr. and Mrs. B, were a German-Jewish couple, and many of our daily customers were Jewish. I knew, of course, about WWII, but it seemed like ancient history to me. This was in the mid- to late 1960s, a good twenty years since the war had ended, and twenty years sounded like a lifetime to my teenaged ears. In my terms, it was a lifetime.
Now, in my sixties, I know just how short twenty years really are, and it makes me realize that many of those European Jews I knew back then were probably refugees from the horrors of Germany, Poland, Austria, and the rest of the countries being “cleansed” by the Nazis. Even the ones who were not new to the U.S.—who were not refugees from the war itself—undoubtedly had friends and relatives who were. They probably had lost parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins. They probably shared their Sabbath meals with people who had numbers tattooed on their forearms—tattoos that the rest of us never knew about, thanks to long sleeves, shawls, and silence. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
John Volken’s Welcome Home Program: A Second Chance For Addicts
By Emily Rose
 I always thought faith was the ability to believe in something that cannot be proven, some intangible element woven into our lives like threads we can sense, but never see.
As I grew older my belief in faith was questioned, as is often the case for people during difficult times. It has only been recently that I learned there is much more to faith than finding the answers to questions that are not based on evidence.
Real faith takes courage and trust. Often, it requires the helping hands of others to provide you with faith when your own supply is running low. And, as I learned during an evening spent with John Volken, real faith takes determination, and the desire to succeed. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
The Art Of Mistakes
By Heather Klem
 As recovering people, stripped of our destructive defenses and damaging coping mechanisms, we face overwhelming uncertainty. Who are we? Where do we fit into this complicated thing we call life? The most basic decisions confound us.
Beneath this cloud of confusion lies a thick sediment of fear. As a recovering perfectionist, the relentless terror of making a mistake has stalked me through much of my formative years and into my adult life. It is a painful brand of insecurity that stretches from the most basic option offered to me in a given circumstance — paper or plastic at the checkout line — to actual major life decisions, like whether or not a given job opportunity is right for me. Frozen in the paint aisle of Home Depot, the prospect of choosing a color for my living room could lock me in agonizing uncertainty, terrified that Downy was not preferable to Dover White. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Snowflakes
By Joanne Lovering
 Snowflakes came into our lives unexpectedly. The day before Snowflake’s birth, my little boy said to me, “Bobalink is going to have some babies.” Bobalink is our female tabby cat. At the time, she was actually our 7-month old tabby kitten. We had not spayed her yet because my friend Jane had only recently rescued her from a neighbour’s garage. I had not noticed her swelling tummy. I contradicted my 10-year-old son at first, but on closer look my “no” turned to “maybe.” The next day my “maybe” turned to a “well lookie there.” Three precious lumps appeared in her box. Snowflakes was one of them, so named because the white markings on the back of his mostly black body looked like snowflakes. Kind of.
Unfortunately, Snowflakes’ mother did not favour him. He had a few good weeks of nursing alongside his sister (the third kitten did not live long) and then suddenly, his mother was done with him. One day she grabbed him by the top of his head and tossed him out of the box. His sister was still welcome to snuggle and feed, but not Snowflakes. So, Snowflakes grew up fast. And strong. And independent. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Saying ‘Yes’ To My Anxiety
By Billie Criswell
 I know it sounds a little strange saying “yes” to anxiety, but so often it is easier to stuff issues away rather than face them head on. That was the relationship between me and my anxiety. It would crop up, catch me by surprise, and I would shout, “No, no, no!” And this became the pattern of my behavior… get anxious, get annoyed that I’m anxious, reject it, and fail to deal with it. Something had to change between us. Someone had to give, and that someone was me. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Independent Women: Is It Us?
By Acamea Deadwiler
 I was recently seeing a guy whom I had made plans to meet for our third date. I decided to catch the train 30 minutes away to Chicago in order to avoid the notorious traffic. In discussing our “plan” we spoke of the time I would need him to have me back at the train station in order to return home, when he said, “That’s if you go back home tonight.” I replied jokingly, but dead serious, “Oh, I’m coming back home tonight.” His response was a snide, “You independent women.”
Now, I am a well-educated 31-year-old with no kids, a successful career, a very nice place of dwelling, and a luxury vehicle. I am, by all accounts, every bit of an independent woman. But the way he said it… He just made it sound so dirty, so stigmatized. He said “independent women” as if there were something wrong with it. As if, it was something to be ashamed of. That was the first time I’d heard being an independent woman spoken of in such a condescending manner, and it really made me think. It made me wonder if being independent has become an undesirable characteristic in the eyes of men. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Chocolate
By Mary Holland Woodward
 As a baby, I could have died from my medical condition which was not well-understood.
Classic Galactosemia had already taken the lives of most – if not all – similarly-diagnosed babies before me.
Classic Galactosemia primarily affects the health of the liver and kidneys.
Mom and Dad were told early-on that, even if I lived beyond a few months or years, I would be severely developmentally disabled. After 47 years in this life, I can tell you, “I’m not!”
In my own non-technical lingo, here’s what I’ve learned so far about Galactosemia:
It’s the simple sugar galactose that is the culprit. I don’t have the enzyme GALT (galactose-1-phosphate uridyl transferase) that is present in most healthy bodies to naturally convert the simple sugar galactose into the simple sugar glucose.
I grew-up knowing that I should never eat anything containing the simple-sugar lactose. I could never eat chocolate! Read more
|
|
|
|
|
The Oldest Person On The Bus
By Joseph Longo
 My 65th birthday was looming.
For the last ten years on my birthdays I always pushed myself to do something extremely physical, something to confirm that I wasn’t getting old, like climbing a heart-pumping incline usually somewhere in the Santa Monica Mountains. For my 65th, I wanted to do something that would push my physical limits because this birthday was bumming me out. For many, 65 means retirement, the end of the road, a sedentary imprisonment. When my parents were 65 they were old people, exhausted, tired from a life of hard work. I did not want to be tired and old. I wanted to be active and alive. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
Expert Series: A Personal Perspective On Addiction
By Dr. Barbara Sinor
 My motivation for writing Tales of Addiction and Inspiration for Recovery came as I was completing Addiction: What’s Really Going On? Inside a Heroin Treatment Program which is coauthored with my friend and colleague Deborah McCloskey. It also comes from my personal experience of living with an alcoholic father and again in my adulthood while coping with an alcoholic son. While researching the field of drug and alcohol addiction, it has become clear that more effort is needed to fully understand the plight of our addiction population, as well as, how this population can help guide younger generations toward the freedom of sobriety through the sharing of their own personal stories. Read more
|
|
|
|
|
|
« go back — keep looking » |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
