The need for safety was another powerful influence; to protect myself, I diminished my presence and buried parts of my identity out of sight. These two fears propelled me forward, but was there a deeper fear lurking beneath?

The heart probably doesn’t think the same way as the brain, but I believe we’re just beginning to fathom the power of our heart energies.

Realizing I hadn’t captured the depth of my changes so readers could “feel” along with me, not just read, I’m editing my book one more time replacing descriptions of how I feel with sensations and action. It's called “showing” not “telling”. It feels peculiar because I’m reliving the book as I edit and spending more time in those singular moments of awareness that preceded all the changes I made.

The act of being part of another’s pain–listening, acknowledging, and feeling it–is a powerful act. I’m not solving anything for that person; I stand in that painful space with them.

 Could it be that life's turning points relate to the direction we need to fulfill our life's purpose? The middle school teacher bolstered my confidence when I needed it the most.