While reading about perfectionism in Brene Brown’s book, Daring Greatly, I began thinking contentedly about how many aspects of perfectionism I have confronted in myself over the past decade. Now, I regularly notice and redirect the instinct to chase perfectionism. It raises its ugly little head, I recognize it, load my gun with perspective and shoot a double tap to its head. Dead. Gone. Victory ...
No animals on the labyrinth today. Last time I came to walk this same labyrinth, I had three deer and a fox for company. It had been magical. So when I entered the labyrinth again, I found myself constantly scanning the woods for companions. Not one showed up. After I got over my sadness at the absence of forest friends, I realized how truly rare ...
As I walk the labyrinth, my feet gently sinking into the black earth lined with stones, I begin carving a space to hear the unheard. I stop a few steps in, and ask my soul as openly as I can muster, “What do I need to hear today?” At first there is a silence which creeps through me like a massive emptiness. But slowly I ...