“When we trust that we are the ocean, we are not afraid of the waves.” ― Tara Brach

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Photo by Conscious Design on Unsplash

As a teen, I was an avid reader. I had two or three bookcases in my bedroom — together they spanned nearly an entire wall — and a pile of a few current reads that would sit in my designated hangout corner of the room.

I still have my childhood copy of Alan Watts’ book “The Wisdom of Insecurity”, a book that I first read as a high schooler. Nearly two decades later, the well-worn book is ridden with dog-eared pages that have allowed me to return to its most poignant passages again and again throughout the years.

The book…

It start’s with something feeling “off”

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Photo by pawel szvmanski on Unsplash

Editor’s Note: If you’ve experienced sexual abuse or assault, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact The National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 1–800–656–4673.

Just a moment ago, all of me was all here. Now a piece of me is somewhere else, gone missing.

Sometimes I can pinpoint what caused it. Sometimes I can’t.

All I know is this: In the place of the whole, integrated woman I was a moment ago, there’s now a part of my soul that feels like the black and white photo of a little girl on a milk carton. …

Creative Nonfiction Writer. Musician. Holistic Wellness Nerd. Social Justice Advocate. Survivor.

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Photo by Tim Martin

When I was a little girl I believed in three things: the power of prayer, the value of compassion, and my duty to service. So when my parents sprang the “eat your spinach because there are kids starving in Africa” argument, I felt a sense of compassion and duty surging through my veins. I went upstairs to my bedroom, kneeled on the hardwood floor, looked out the window, and began to pray.

“God,” I whispered, “It’s not fair that I have everything and those kids in Africa are suffering. It’s not fair and I want you to let me carry…

But it taught me to live well with the ones I have

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Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash

A few months back, a friend reached out to me confiding about some personal challenges he was facing. He was considering going into therapy, but as many do, he had reservations about the process. He knew I had been a long-time therapy client as a sexual trauma survivor, so when the time came to make the decision, he came to me.

“Did it work? Did it help?” he had asked. He confessed his biggest fear was that he would go to therapy, only to find that the therapist wasn’t able to solve his problems. He couldn’t bear that possibility —…

This year I looked to a Peruvian ritual to ring in the New Year.

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Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash

This year, I spent my New Year’s Eve in isolation. A possible COVID-19 exposure had turned into a fever, leading to a test, and culminating in a positive test result three days before New Year’s Eve. If I was to spend the holiday alone, I wanted it to be meaningful. New Year’s is a symbol of transition: it’s a time to release the past, to reground ourselves in our values and intentions, and to look ahead towards manifesting our future.

What better way to honor the holiday than to invite a new practice into my home that honors its essence…

Many survivors who speak out face a secondary trauma: the trauma of being disbelieved

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Photo by Alora Griffiths on Unsplash

The other day I was out for a drive with a friend when an innocuous song came on the radio. “She’s really good,” said my driver. “She was doing well” — he added — “you heard her on the radio quite a bit for awhile.” I agreed that I enjoyed the woman’s sound, though I didn’t know the story behind why she had fallen out of radio play.

“When the #MeToo movement came around, she came forward about how her tour manager had assaulted her,” he began to explain. …

Social media is making everyone else’s lives look more perfect than reality, and it’s time to remember our shared humanity

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Photo by Pratik Gupta on Unsplash

Sometimes people tell me that they are inspired by how “together” I seem to have it. They say they envy my composure. They admire the way that after all the adversity I’ve written about, I seem to cruise through life with so much light and positivity.

The other day a friend asked me something along the lines of how, of the two of us, it was he that wound up the one battling with darkness. I guess it was a compliment — he meant to say I’d come a long way — but as he spoke I felt my imposter…

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Photo by Zac Durant on Unsplash

Dear one,

You have permission to grieve. You have permission to cry until you’re held afloat by your own ocean. You can do whatever you need to do to feel through the hard things. Just promise me that at the end of your stormy night, you’ll swim to shore.

No matter how dark the road gets, no matter how lonely, promise me this: that you will choose life, over and over again.

That in the face of a thousand setting suns, you will have courage to hold out through the night to witness a thousand more rising.

That on the…

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Photo by Allef Vinicius

Do you remember the day your soul was born?

How it squirmed into being with the fresh glow of a baby sun, delighted by its own brightness. Onlookers knelt at your feet, awed by your delicate brilliance; enthroned you in the kingdom of the stars. They promised to worship you, expecting only endless light in return.

But even the master of the skies grows tired. So against their order, you laid to rest, if only for awhile, in the bed beyond the horizon of the kingdom walls.

When the night came, the city of your mind was painted red. The…

A 30-something’s reflection on social responsibility and self-care when facing unconfirmed illness during a pandemic

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Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash

“Did I have the coronavirus?” It’s a question that’s on the minds of millions of Americans. Suddenly every cough, every moment of breathlessness, every stomach ache, every fever could be a simple cold, seasonal allergies — or an impending nightmare. And in states where tests are scarce and limited to the severely ill or at-risk population, many of us — namely the young without any pre-existing health conditions — may wind up left out of the testing pool. I’m in my early 30s, without any known health issues, and I live in a state where I don’t qualify for testing…

Kala Farnham

Creative Nonfiction Writer. Poet. Songwriter. Holistic Wellness Nerd. Social Justice Advocate. Crisis Counselor. www.kalafarnham.com

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