I've been sitting with resentment lately. Not running from it, not feeding it — just sitting with it. And what I'm discovering is that resentment is a distraction. Not a meaningless one, but a distraction nonetheless — one that pulls our attention away from something deeper that needs to be seen.

Here's what I mean. When we recognize something wrong with the world, that moment produces two things simultaneously: a call to action and a resentment. The problem is that resentment is loud. It's consuming. And so the call to action — the thing that could actually move us forward — gets buried underneath it.

I notice this most when I think about people who seem unaware of the destruction they cause. Or worse, people who I suspect choose not to see it — because truly seeing it would require something of them. It would demand change, accountability, discomfort. And so they look away. That willful not-seeing is what triggers my resentment most.

But here's what journaling is showing me: even that resentment is pointing me somewhere. Not toward changing their seeing — toward finding my own call to action. What is this moment asking of me?

If you've read my book Abundantly You, this might remind you of how I talk about worry — how it, too, carries a hidden invitation that we often miss. Resentment works the same way. The invitation is there. We just have to see past the noise to find it.

​Growing up, you learned about the human physical body and how to take care of it – bathe, brush your teeth, comb your hair, and drink water. But what do you know about your energy body?

The energy body is a system of pure energy that mirrors your physical body. Every living creature on earth has an energy body. It uses helpful energies that surround you to support your health and well-being while filtering out harmful energies. Your energy body also releases the energies of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions out into the world around you.

There are some people who are calm, cool, and collected in the midst of challenges. They have mastered the art of either avoiding worry altogether or at least worrying for a very short while. We all have that potential; it sometimes takes a little practice. One way to get out of a state of worry sooner than later is to turn the challenging situation into an opportunity.

​Living in a state of chaos can shape our definitions of survival, purpose, and love. For some, doing everything possible to cut out chaos is how we show love.
 
Shirzad Chamine, the author of “Positive Intelligence”, explained that growing up in chaos and unhappiness can drive a person to always want to do everything well. Fixing problems, making other people’s lives easier, and making people happy will make you happy. The concern with that idea is you cannot control what makes other people happy and to what extent. You may spend time doing a lot for other people that does not make them happy, which then makes you unhappy.

Living our authentic self means honoring all parts of who we are. That includes our thoughts, feelings, and emotions. They allow the soul to express itself in this world. We tend to bury our thoughts, feelings, and emotions to please our family, friends, and society. We do not express happiness so that others don’t get jealous. We do not show sadness so that we don’t seem ungrateful. We hide our grief so that we don’t worsen someone else’s grief. We cover up our anger so that others don’t feel unsafe. By doing these things, we also bury who we truly are, the authentic self.  ​

Finding out a loved one has died is like a detonated bomb that damages the boundaries of presence.

You have a sharp moment when you are present (finding out the person died). It creates a pain so big and powerful that your mind and soul cannot contain it. That pain explodes, creating heartbreak.

Each culture has specific expectations of each demographic: men should be physically strong; women should cook; teenagers should get good grades in school; and children should be seen, not heard. The problem with having specific expectations of whole sections of society is that it's unrealistic.

One night during my third year of college, some friends knocked on my dorm room door proclaiming, "We're going country line dancing! Let's go!" In which reality would you see a Jamaican going country line dancing in the middle of Connecticut? Apparently, in the one where your friends offer to pay for everything.