Looking for Me in All the Wrong Places

I am trying to understand how a bit of land could feel so a part of me. Is it because just through those trees is where my father was born and where he and his three brothers caught frogs and buried treasures and gathered hazel nuts every fall for their mother to lay out on a roof to dry? And just a little further through the trees is the house my mom and dad built.

My roots go deep here on this particular piece of earth.

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Silver, a short story

She was named Silver at birth because, when she first opened her newborn eyes, the pupils shone like tiny mirrors. It was as if the area behind the corneas had been silvered and all who looked into her eyes saw first their own reflection.

As you can imagine, Silver was a compliant, agreeable infant who grew into a compliant, agreeable child. By age two, she was able not to just see but to reflect although the silvery glint had lessened.

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Self-appreciating is More Than Just Not Beating Yourself Bloody With a Very Big Stick

As part of my goal to learn new things about myself and others this year, I’ve been watching a lot of films online, reading blogs, and finding new research and authors to study. I like it. It feels fresh. The moment I fool myself into thinking I know it all is the moment I should quit teaching.

The first great prize I’ve gotten so far this year I wrote about in my post, “The Courage to Risk Loving.” The second is this. I struggle with self-appreciation or self-confidence.

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