Busy is the Operative Word

By Sherrie Cassel I’m having a tough time today. Grief is unpredictable. I’ve been on the fast track for four years. I have leisure time I haven’t had in FOUR YEARS. I’ve been reading, visiting with cherished loved ones, writing, living, loving, laughing – and today, the world returns to my normal, another second, minute,Continue reading “Busy is the Operative Word”

Complicated Grief: The Tip of the Iceberg

By Sherrie Cassel I want to share resources I find beneficial with my readers, and with those who accidentally find my page. I’m taking a little time off before I hit the academic trajectory toward a doctorate. I’m taking time for self-reflection and relaxation; it’s been a long four years! This book, which I’ve sharedContinue reading “Complicated Grief: The Tip of the Iceberg”

Unmuting the Muse

By Sherrie Cassel In The Artist’s Way, the author recommends writing three pages a day, or painting, or singing, or going on a meditative walk with yourself. I know for those of us who are really bad at self-care, trying any of these exercises is excruciatingly difficult, and our self-care is neglected to the pointContinue reading “Unmuting the Muse”

Grief and estrangement

By Sherrie Cassel Dedicated to my biological family: I’m sorry you’re hurting. I found out yesterday, on Facebook, that my sister died; this is how my family of origin handles things. We’re not functional together; estrangement has been good for me. I did not know for decades that I could break free from toxicity andContinue reading “Grief and estrangement”

Politics and Poppycock

by Sherrie Cassel Is it just me, or is the world on fire, volatile, uncertain, complex, and ambiguous, a VUCA world, a term used in business models? I know popular opinion is that this administration is responsible for the chaos in my own country, the USA, and while the current president’s antics are sometimes entertaining,Continue reading “Politics and Poppycock”

No hard feelings

by Sherrie Cassel Anger is poisonous; it wrecks relationships irreparably, and if not irreparably, then shaky forever after. I know. My son and I. His wife and I. My sister and brothers and I, and a string of former lovers who might have turned into relationships had my anger toward men not been so prevalentContinue reading “No hard feelings”

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