Lately I’ve been reading Iyanla Vanzant’s new book, ‘Trust.’ It took me a long time, and a lot of hard lessons, to begin to understand that in order to trust in others, and in life, I must first trust in myself.
If Paris was a woman, I’d want to be her friend.
As I wandered the cobblestoned, tree-lined boulevards of Saint-Rémy-de Provence, I couldn’t help noticing the legacy of Nostradamus that lives on. What I didn’t know, was what a courageous legacy it was, a story of a man who continued on his path, even though many found him insane.
Do you ever wonder what would run through your mind as you lay dying? I love these thoughts recorded by Steve Jobs, during his finals days of life.
‘Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls… the big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.’
In alanon they teach you to believe and trust in something greater than yourself. The God of your understanding. This was difficult for me. After growing up in the church, something in me rebelled from it. From the rules. Regulations. Judgement. I always had an issue with the idea that we are weak and needed to be ‘saved.’ But the same circumstances that led me to the doors of an alanon meeting, feeling lost, vulnerable with total strangers, had me awakening to the idea of trust.