This piece is about what I have learned over the past year. It is brutally honest. This is my first real understanding of dying to self. As I have painfully continued to deny (or die to) myself, I have grown in self-love and joy and peace and fullness. Growth hurts.
On April 4, 1968, a man was shot and killed not because he had a dream, but because his dream threatened to change the lives of those in power. Even though the man believed in non-violence, he was violently assassinated in the hopes that the status quo could be maintained.
I am sorry for my absence. I go through phases where I have difficulty following through with anything. I am too anxious to start things, and when I do, I get too anxious to finish. I won’t explain that now. The important part is that I am just getting
One of my favorite professors told me just a few days ago: "The point of life, if there is any, is to experience as many different ways of being human as possible." And being human is incredibly complex. What does it mean to be human?
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