frazzled

I haven't been doing any blogs for many, many moons (I hope you noticed) because I've been busily ensconced in writing my
We need language to be able to label feelings; to make sense of them. Without words, we'd be like an emotional washing machine on ultra-high with no 'off' switch. If you try to repress them, they will eventually erupt like Vesuvius when you least expect. Suddenly out of nowhere, one Christmas morning, you'll try to beat your mother-in-law over the head with a plunger and you'll never know why.
The idea is that "it's OK to not be OK," These meetings are not for people suffering mental illness at the time of the meeting - it's important that you know that we don't offer therapy. You may have suffered in the past or know someone who is suffering so we'll advise you where to go to get help.
A few nights ago, in the second half when it was the audience's turn to speak, a man asked how mindfulness would work for someone with multiple personality disorder. I asked if he was kidding and he and his partner said he wasn't and that he had a disorder called D.I D.
Hurrah!!! A Mindfulness Guide for the Frazzled became number one in the first week of its life in paperback. Thank you all
If you think being present sounds fluffy ask yourself how much money you spend trying to get there? And if you can sit back and enjoy the ride rather than get to the finish line the fastest, that is my definition of happiness; the rarest commodity of them all.
I'm working on my next book. You say (and by you, I mean me) you'll never write another one, the next thing you know is that
Frazzled isn't an illness, it's the syndrome of not being able to stop those churning thoughts; that we're not doing enough, not good enough, that we're riding by the seat of our pants and we're going to get caught.
Why do we always need to find someone to blame for our discomfort in being alive? If I can figure out this 'c' thing I may be able to save the world or at least myself.
My position is actually that we need stress, otherwise nothing would get us out of bed. We'd all be playing banjo on our porches in Alabama. Stress is part of our legacy from the Stone Age for reasons of survival otherwise we would have ended up as pieces of jurassic finger food.