Thursday, July 9, 2009

The thing about Soap Box Therapy...

The thing about Soap Box Therapy is that it’s about celebrating human condition…

We are all a frickin’ mess on some level. It’s just the way it goes, so welcome to life, stay a while. So stop trying so hard to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous… cause you already are, just by breathing. If you feel like you’re trying too hard, you are. That’s it. Really, that’s it.

Here’s my shtick… I don’t know you, but I know if you are human, and I’m assuming you are, that you are beautiful- because that’s just how I roll. But you are also not perfect. Sorry to break it to you, darling. That's OK though because perfection isn’t allowed in our little club. If you are perfect, go back to your planet, because earth doesn’t want you, you little alien child.

Soap Box Therapy is about connecting to one another with no judgment, no should’s, just connection, acceptance for where you are in the moment, and maybe a little sprinkle of tough love… oh, and I might talk about your childhood a bit. Sorry.

It’s important to get some food for thought once in a while, some advice about all the little things and big things that drive you nuts, that take up space in your mind, that cause ick in your body. And sometimes you don’t want to ask, you just want to listen and see if there is something you connect with, something that perks your interest and reminds you that you are in fact still a part of things.

There are also going to be times you don’t want to feel better…. You just want to eat the pint (or gallon depending on the situation) of ice cream and call it a night, or a week, or whatever.

I’m not here to push you to be ready for something your not, to feel something you don’t. But when you’re ready to go there, I’ll be waiting… on my soap box.

And that’s the thing about Soap Box Therapy.

1 comment:

  1. Ha, I think I needed to hear that it's okay I'm not "perfect" today! I left my purse at a very busy public park this evening. Luckily my knight in shining armor (aka my husband) hopped on his scooter to retrieve it for me when I realized what I had done. Even more luckily it was still there an hour and a half after I left it, thanks to some wonderful strangers who spotted it and kept it safe for me! I can't believe I did that -- it is the third time I have lost/almost lost my purse in 15 months. Didn't have a problem with this until recently, so what gives?

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