God’s Wife

We called Dad “The Answerman.” He seemed to know the answer to every question. Mom accused him of thinking he knew more than God, which was funny since my father was agnostic. “I guess that makes me God’s wife,” she would say. She even went so far as to get a vanity license plate “GDSWF” (“God’s wife”). When she got it, she hadn’t considered any alternative meanings for “GDSWF,” like “Gay, Dominant, Single, White, Female.” When the honks and waves started coming, Mom laughed and waved back, celebrating the diversity of humankind, just as God’s wife would. — Caren Albers

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging”, as I know each of these pieces represents something…

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Thanks for Sheltering Me

The apartment was 1,300 square feet of uncertainty, the red front door welcoming me to life after divorce. For three years, it sheltered me, a single mother of two, allowing me to rediscover who I was without a wedding ring. When love came knocking again, I was ready to let it in, eventually creating a new beach-side home with my boyfriend. My old apartment empty, I ran my fingers along the walls that held secrets of my most vulnerable moments, my grief for the future I had imagined. I closed the red door behind me, moving out, moving on. — Heather Sweeney

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What is Your Practice?

As you slow down today, for an hour or a single breath, take a moment to reflect and connect your own dots.  Past. Present. Future. Let life itself be your daily practice.  Every intentional act is a celebration of devotion. A deliberate improvisation and a work of art.

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging”, as I know each of these pieces represents something…

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My Radiant Light

My close friends know that I lost my mother to ovarian cancer. They don’t know that five years later, I lost my brother to a fatal accident — and that within months of his passing, my father also died, his lifelong smoking catching up to him. Sitting motionless on the bedroom floor, unable to accept my orphanhood and my brother’s demise, I was desperate for hope. Just then my one-year-old son’s tiny hand reached out for me. He was like a radiant light dispelling darkness. Sobbing, I held him tight, promising to acquaint him with my departed family through my memories. — Jasmine Jaksic

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something…

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Artist

An artist’s real contribution isn’t what he paints, but the way he sees. – Martha Beck

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something… 

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