confession: as often as i can find them, i spend time in cemeteries when i’m in a new place. i found an old family cemetery inside the smoky mountains national park and an even older town cemetery in gatlinburg, tennessee. the day between finding these two cemeteries, i had a vision of the boldly carved word at the top of my gravestone which reads “WELL-LOVED.” i am wholly well-loved. thank you.
confession: although i don’t shave my legs while on vacation, i continue to pluck my eyebrows. i compulsively pluck my eyebrows. i keep tweezers in my car and pluck at stoplights.
confession: i easily could have stayed in the mountains for the rest of the summer, but there are people visiting at home that i want to hug.
confession: i’m going to be a godmother again. (happy dancing wiggling “yay!”) no matter how many new godchildren are born and blessedly given to me, i grow a spacious new compartment in my heart to hold, cradle, and support each new one with powerful unconditional love.
confession: in addition to being well-loved, i love more and more and more all the time. loving makes me stronger.
confession: i’m stronger than i realize. in every possible way.
confession: i have mental conversations with people about challenging subjects, vulnerable topics, and intimate details. today i had a mental conversation as practice to convince myself to speak the conversation aloud to the intended audience tomorrow. tonight i’m making excuses to avoid the real-life conversation tomorrow. i’m pretty sure i’m gonna chicken out, but i hope i take the risk.
confession: i have exactly zero problems. i have a few inconveniences (for example, the three-hour flight delay during which i’m writing these confessions) and plenty of challenges, but not a single problem. i’m grateful, i’m lucky, and i’ve got nothing to complain about. ever.