Equanimity means looking at things objectively like a scientist should, rather than emotionally. We know that scientists should be objective about their work, because if they are emotional, then they are likely to see things which are not there and miss things that are there. If a scientist badly wants a specific result (to be right; self-fulfilling prophecy), he or she is much more likely to make such mistakes. We do the same thing when we badly want something.

EXAMPLE: A woman who has been in and out of a number of relationships and each one of her partners was supposed to be the answer to her dreams. This woman is addicted to falling in love and imagines she will be truly happy with the next man she meets. She will fall wild in love again. She is so desperate to have her dream fulfilled that she does not really see her partners for what they are, only for the ways in which they meet her dream. She is shocked when she is forced to realize each time that her partners were not what she had thought they were. Eventually, the woman stops to investigate what “the dream”is all about. She wants love, but has not been skilled at recognizing it. Learning equanimity will be a big part of her being able to see potential partners in both their good and bad aspects. She becomes less and less desperate for a relationship; to prove she is ok. She begins to choose her partners with more wisdom.

When we find ourselves feeling angry, or needy, or desperately wanting something, or depressed, or jealous, or whatever, then equanimity is the way to step aside from these emotions.

That is what equanimity does: It looks at the pain without exaggerating its effects and consequences. It takes a balanced view

— chönyi taylor, ENOUGH!

Maslow’s Hierarchy

Maslow believed that to understand the highest level of need, the person must not only achieve the previous needs, but master them. A person’s motivation to reach his or her full potential. As shown in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, a person’s basic needs must be met before self-actualization can be achieved.

So, where am I?

I’m struggling with my basic physiology. I’m literally struggling to breathe and even just rest. It makes me feel the weight of Maslow’s pyramid as if it’s stacked up weight was upon my chest. If I am to start at the bottom and work my way up, I need to strap on my gear first. Hell, I should probably just start at taking stock of what is actually going on.


  • Complete medical tests
  • Food log
  • Water log
  • Activity log
  • Sleep log
  • Mindfulness, emotional
  • Track spending, financial

I’m going to close out this blog and get started. I’m going to spend the next 10-20 minutes, downloading apps that will help specifically address the above needs. It’s actually a resource in the palm of my hands EVERYDAY that I am not realizing the potential of. I need to work smarter AND harder. I’m also going to commit to making daily contact with at least one person who can inspire and/or mentor me in continuing the climb because I know I will lose my footing and need this team to spot me up.

Wish you were here

I wish you were here when she played the song that brings tears welling to her eyes. I wish you were here holding my hand as I realized there is nothing I can do to fix her hurt. I wish you were here sitting in the uncomfortable with me, with her.

I wish you were here when his eyes filled with wonder and excitement laced his voice. I wish you were here to share the pride in his reading aloud because you also recognize the significance of his journey from nonverbal.

I wish you were here to listen when I worried today. I wish you were here when he arrived safely from his first interstate road trip. I wish you were here sharing what may be the last summer vacation before he leaves the nest.

I just wish you here fully grasping the importance of the laughter from the kids in the next room. I wish we were reminiscing about days past together. I wish you were here to embrace in this contentment.

To be clear, I don’t even know who “YOU” are.

Then again, maybe you don’t deserve this. Maybe only I deserve this. I earned this. It is mine.

Yet, I long to share me with you.

Still, I wish you were here.

On being taken care of

I’ve been really sick recently. (I’m not even willing to admit how much or how isolated it makes me feel from “normal”– whatever the fuck that is. Perhaps, a better word would be normalcy.) Anyway, this led to me having to cancel a first date with a gentleman I met just earlier this week, at Starbucks of all places. When given this information, he texted the following response:

Well…get some rest. Then, you can come over tonight and I can take care of you. I can make you dinner and we can just chill. Come over around 630. Two options for dinner. Chicken on the grill, wild rice and broccolini. Or garlic chicken with Alfredo sauce over penne with French bread that we dip into olive oil as appetizer. Which one?

I was so dumbfounded by the whole thing, I didn’t even know how to respond. It brought me to tears. The only word I could get to my lips was: damn.

How fucked up is it that I have become so accustomed to not expecting a man to do … well, anything anymore that I don’t know how to handle it when they do? (Jesus. That may be the saddest thing I ever wrote.)

To make a long story short, I accepted the invite to dinner and that pasta and french bread would be the best bet because carbs heal all wounds. When I went over for dinner, I walked into this:

I need you to understand that in 39 years of life no one has ever made me a homemade dinner, set up an appetizer with a lovely, aged bottle of wine, poured into crystal and served it by candlelight. As I was taking this picture, he is to my left finishing his culinary orchestrating. He plates the meal directly from the stove top, wiping the edges of the plate he is about to present. He makes one stop before pulling out my chair at the table to roll up fresh basil leaves and garnish the pasta in spirals.

The whole scene was foreign and felt like an out of body experience, but also what I always thought it might be feel like to be … home.