When my work is celebrated or recognized, I feel like I’m preparing for a performance. I cling to my mask, tamping down meltdowns, fighting back tears, and trying to ignore the negative self-talk. I obsess over the details, trying to make every aspect of my life look effortless. In short, it looks like I really have my shit together.

Anchored to this desk, \ the sun is gleaming \ and time holds his breath…

Armed with awareness \ and shielded by intuition, \ I push forward from the inside out…