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Saturday, 13 December 2025
On this day of your life
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I believe God wants you to know ... ... that it could
seem like you are losing something right now, but do
not be fooled. This is simply a turnaround
orchestrated by your soul. Even before this,
you were. And even after all
this passes away, you shall be. All
the Rest Of It is stuff and
nonsense. The accoutrement. The flora and
fauna. Pretty, perhaps. Shiny and
sparkling, perhaps. But having nothing to do with
anything. Let it
go. Release it. If it was not supposed to be
removing itself from you now, it would not be
doing so. It will never return to you in this exact form,
and it is not intended to. If it returns at
all, it will be in a higher form. That is the purpose
of its leaving. All of life only
improves itself. It can't do anything else. This is called
evolution. Trust it. And now,
smile. Tomorrow is coming! Tomorrow is coming! |
Preserving Our Muscle Health (OM)
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Ten Unspoken Rules on a First Date.
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At 48 years old and still unexpectedly single, I’ve been on more first dates than I ever expected to go on.
And as someone who was named top bachelor in Denver area wayyy back in the day, I’m something of a veteran (sadly, perhaps). More to the point—and this is key to anyone daring to give advice on first dates—I’ve also been on many second and third and fourth dates.
So: here’s a little advice from me and “my” friends.
Generally: Be honest. Be kind. Be thoughtful. Be funny. Be self-deprecating. Take a deep breath. Listen. Do something fun, relaxing. It’s not a job interview.
With thanks to the crowdthinking over at Reddit, plus a few I’ve added in from my own experience/ethics.
- Your phone is not part of the date.
- Shower before. Go easy, if you use any at all, with the perfume/cologne.
- Don’t drink too much.
- Both should know it is a date. It’s nice to be subtle, friendly, but it’s also nice to be clear, and enjoy the tingle tension of flirting mutually. What’s not nice is unnecessary confusion.
- “Not a rule but. Never make the other person carry the conversation. You’re both here to make an effort and give each other the respect. If you both want different things then let it be said after. No need to hurt someone’s self respect for your ego.” Err on the side of asking questions and listening.
- A common one: Don’t talk about exes! Not sure I agree with that one. If you do, be respectful and fair. And…don’t go into depth (98% of your convo should not be about exes). I like this take: “You can absolutely talk about exes but make sure the information you’re giving is beneficial for both of you. Don’t vent.”
- Do something fun (click here for ideas), that you’d enjoy doing even if the date isn’t great. A sit down formal dinner is not a great first date unless you already know each other well. Better: food truck, ice cream, hike on a popular trail, coffee, art gallery opening, farmers market. Something not too private, where both parties feel safe is important (men don’t always think about this, but this is something to be considerate about). That said, you still want to be able to focus on each other, so don’t get toooo social.
- Don’t be shitty to waiters/service staff. That’s some good advice for life, generally.
- Don’t catfish them
- Go dutch. Or pay, if you’re the man, and you want to. But it should not be expected. She should offer.
“First dates are thin, eager, weak, sweet, young…full of real but ephemeral love. The tired heart warms again and, childlike, a naive hope of love buds up.
Second dates are a time to talk, a time to get to know—a time to see if the avocado soaked in clean water in a jam jar set on only two toothpicks in the warm sun will sprout. You have to wait two weeks, sometimes.” ~ Things I would like to do with You.
Learning to Belong without Losing Myself.
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For anyone starting over, stepping into a new space, or remembering how to be at home in their own skin.
I learned early how to shape-shift to fit in.
It wasn’t an intentional skill. It was survival.
In my early years, silence felt safer than truth. The adults in my life—loving in their way—were also emotionally repressed and unprepared to raise a child who felt…everything. There was no room for the mess of real feelings, so I learned to tuck mine away.
By the time I was 10, I could read the emotional weather in a room before I’d even stepped inside. I knew when to smile, when to disappear, when to hold my breath so I wouldn’t make a ripple.
I was there, but I wasn’t me.
A Night That Changed My Life
Years later, I went to my best friend Allison’s house for the first time.
I didn’t know what I was stepping into. I thought it would be another home where the real feelings stayed locked in bedrooms.
But the moment I walked in, I felt it in my body—this was different.
Her dad greeted me with a warmth I didn’t know how to receive. People actually looked at each other when they spoke. There was laughter in the kitchen and no one seemed to be scanning the room for the next emotional storm.
It was like my nervous system didn’t know whether to collapse in relief or run from the unfamiliar.
That night I realized something life-changing:
The way I had been living wasn’t the only way.
Belonging Without Disappearing
Belonging is a basic human need, but for some of us, the cost of entry has been our authenticity.
We learn to make ourselves smaller, quieter, easier.
We tell ourselves it’s worth it—to be part of something, to have a seat at the table.
But if the “belonging” requires us to leave our truth at the door, it’s not belonging. It’s performance.
I see it all the time in my clients’ energy fields: colors that should be vivid are dimmed, edges pulled in tight, as if they’re trying not to take up too much space.
They’ve learned that visibility comes with risk.
So they dim their own light before anyone else can.
What Our Energy Knows Before We Do
The aura doesn’t lie.
When we’re in a space that welcomes us fully, our colors expand. The field gets brighter, clearer. There’s movement and flow.
When we’re in a space that requires masking, the field compresses. The colors dull or scatter. We might feel tired for no reason or have a low hum of anxiety we can’t quite place.
Learning to notice those shifts is like having an internal compass for belonging.
It’s not about overanalyzing every room you walk into—it’s about recognizing when your body is telling you, It isn’t safe to be all of me here.
A Gentle Practice for This Season
Whether you’re stepping into a new school, job, community, or chapter of life, try this:
1. Before you enter the space, take a moment to feel your own energy. What color or sensation comes to mind?
2. As you interact, notice—does that color stay steady? Brighten? Dull?
3. When you leave, check in again. What’s different?
The goal isn’t to judge the space or yourself. It’s simply to start noticing where your energy expands and where it contracts.
That noticing alone begins to change things.
The Belonging I Choose Now
I’m no longer willing to belong in spaces where I have to disappear to be accepted.
And the most beautiful part? Once you stop making yourself small, you start finding (and creating) spaces where you fit without shrinking.
Sometimes they look like a kitchen full of laughter.
Sometimes they look like a circle of people you’ve only just met but who see you in a way that makes your whole body exhale.
That’s the belonging worth keeping.
The kind that lets you be both held and free.
~
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