I made progress on a messy draft of this essay that's been dogging me on chronic migraines. I'm not there yet—not ready to share with readers b/c I still have a lot to figure out—but I spent some real time this week working on it.
I’m proud of myself for making a list of small “assignments” to work on—a range of mini writing tasks—which is helping to give me footing when I don’t have a lot of internal motivation to get started with writing on a sticky day! I can open that list and pick a task to begin.
I was never proud of anything. You can’t be, when there’s no sense of Self. Who would you be proud of? But this summer, after four years of intense therapy and coaching, something shifted. For the first time, I felt pride—not in “me,” but in the inner children who survived more than most could bear. And I hold onto that pride for them, every single day.
Thank you, Emily, for taking a moment to reflect on this. It means a lot to have this part of my journey seen and acknowledged. The shift towards feeling that pride was a hard-won one, and I cherish it deeply. Your kind words add to the warmth and strength of that feeling. 💛
I have been able re-establish a brief morning meditation practice that includes answering a couple of prompts in 1-2 sentences just to try to get back in a writing rhythm… and I can feel some creative energy possibly returning that has been absent.
Oh, and my husband and I cleaned out several junk drawers today in a cooperative effort and that felt amazing (might have to invite future house guests to open them since no one would ever know…! ;)
Congrats, Robin! This is wonderful. I love that you're weaving together meditation and writing to get back into the creative flow. And, that's amazing about the junk drawers. I like to imagine how you could just "happen" to fling one open so they see it :):)
I’m proud of the fact that I actually wrote a rough draft of a poem for my Madwomen class on Tuesday. It felt good to put words on paper. I’m trying hard to pay attention to what is right before my eyes.
I made progress on a messy draft of this essay that's been dogging me on chronic migraines. I'm not there yet—not ready to share with readers b/c I still have a lot to figure out—but I spent some real time this week working on it.
I’m proud of myself for making a list of small “assignments” to work on—a range of mini writing tasks—which is helping to give me footing when I don’t have a lot of internal motivation to get started with writing on a sticky day! I can open that list and pick a task to begin.
Yes to this! I need to focus my todo list into this kind of thing. Thanks for this!
I was awarded a medal by a fake institute and I would have to go to a predatory conference to collect it but still feels great
Ha! I mean, what’s the issue here? (Miss you!)
I was never proud of anything. You can’t be, when there’s no sense of Self. Who would you be proud of? But this summer, after four years of intense therapy and coaching, something shifted. For the first time, I felt pride—not in “me,” but in the inner children who survived more than most could bear. And I hold onto that pride for them, every single day.
This is beautiful. Hard fought and inspiring. Thank you for sharing this 🙏🏼🩵
Thank you, Emily, for taking a moment to reflect on this. It means a lot to have this part of my journey seen and acknowledged. The shift towards feeling that pride was a hard-won one, and I cherish it deeply. Your kind words add to the warmth and strength of that feeling. 💛
💛💛💛
I have been able re-establish a brief morning meditation practice that includes answering a couple of prompts in 1-2 sentences just to try to get back in a writing rhythm… and I can feel some creative energy possibly returning that has been absent.
Oh, and my husband and I cleaned out several junk drawers today in a cooperative effort and that felt amazing (might have to invite future house guests to open them since no one would ever know…! ;)
Congrats, Robin! This is wonderful. I love that you're weaving together meditation and writing to get back into the creative flow. And, that's amazing about the junk drawers. I like to imagine how you could just "happen" to fling one open so they see it :):)
I’m proud of the fact that I actually wrote a rough draft of a poem for my Madwomen class on Tuesday. It felt good to put words on paper. I’m trying hard to pay attention to what is right before my eyes.
Awesome. I imagine this has even more meaning given that your book is out now and you’re writing into a new space ✨
Absolutely. I feel like I want to experiment with different subjects and themes. We’ll see. Family keeps sneaking in.