Enjoy 15 inspirational quotes to start your day feeling motivated and positive. Inspiring quotes & positive words can put our mindset right.
Learn how to improve your mindset and use positive thinking techniques. Become more positive and use positive affirmations to become happier and healthier.
Feel like nothing you do is good enough? If can identify with these "not good enough" quotes after your relationship ends and you break up, look to these words of encouragement and know that things will get better soon.
A positive attitude can work wonders in your life. Check out these 25 positive attitude quotes and uplifting memes to remind you to keep your head up and think positive thoughts.
Discover 44 positive affirmations for stress, worry, and anxiety. Allow these affirmations to help you feel calm & strong in all moments.
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Monday Blues Be Gone: 20+ Funniest Cat Memes For An Uplifting Start To The Week - World's largest collection of cat memes and other animals
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Enjoy 15 inspirational quotes to start your day feeling motivated and positive. Inspiring quotes & positive words can put our mindset right.
Recharge your spirit and mood by reading these 26 fantastic and inspiring quotes that will make your day seem brighter!
Vamos logo para o que interessa, a vida não é fácil. Com certeza isto não é novidade para ninguém. Há dias que parecem mais fáceis do que outros. Há momentos em que tudo parece correr às mil maravilhas e há outros em que tudo o que queremos é ficar trancados no quarto e não ver ninguém.
Read these 30 motivating quotes when you don't feel like working out. These inspirational fitness quotes literally gets me off my butt every time!
These 50 best happy quotes are positive, uplifting, motivating and just plain funny. Share them with your friends and family to make someone's day a little bit brighter.
15 Wise and Inspirational Quotes to Uplift You
Have you ever thought about how words of encouragement can lighten up your mood or even motivate you to get through the rest of the day? Sometimes even simple words can charge you up when you are having a bad day, and Eckyo’s comics are here to do just that!
Enjoy 15 inspirational quotes to start your day feeling motivated and positive. Inspiring quotes & positive words can put our mindset right.
From women’s mental health specialist and New York Times contributor Pooja Lakshmin, MD, comes a long-overdue reckoning with the contradictions of the wellness industry and a paradigm-shifting program for practicing real self-care that will empower, uplift, and maybe even start a revolution. You may have noticed that it’s nearly impossible to go even a couple days without coming across the term self-care. A word that encompasses any number of lifestyle choices and products—from juice cleanses to yoga workshops to luxury bamboo sheets—self-care has exploded in our collective consciousness as a panacea for practically all of women’s problems. Board-certified psychiatrist Dr. Pooja Lakshmin finds this cultural embrace of self-care incomplete at best and manipulative at worst. Fixing your troubles isn’t simple as buying a new day planner or signing up for a meditation class. These faux self-care practices keep us looking outward—comparing ourselves with others or striving for a certain type of perfection. Even worse, they exonerate an oppressive social system that has betrayed women and minorities. Real self-care, in contrast, is an internal, self-reflective process that involves making difficult decisions in line with our values, and when we practice it, we shift our relationships, our workplaces, and even our broken systems. In Real Self-Care, Lakshmin helps readers understand what a real practice of caring for yourself could—and does—look like. Using case studies from her practice, clinical research, and the down-to-earth style that she's become known for, Lakshmin provides a step-by-step program for real and sustainable change and solace. Packed with actionable strategies to deal with'common'problems, Real Self-Care is a complete roadmap for women to set boundaries and move past guilt, treat themselves with compassion, get closer to themselves, and assert their power. The result—having ownership over one’s own life— is nothing less than a personal and social revolution. Product DetailsISBN-13: 9780593489727 Media Type: Hardcover Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group Publication Date: 03-14-2023 Pages: 288 Product Dimensions: 8.30(w) x 5.60(h) x 1.10(d)About the Author Pooja Lakshmin MD is a board-certified psychiatrist, New York Times contributor, and a leading voice at the intersection of mental health and gender, focused on helping women and people from marginalized communities escape the tyranny of self-care. In 2020, Lakshmin founded Gemma — a physician led women’s mental health education platform centering impact and equity. She maintains an active private practice, where she treats women struggling with burnout, perfectionism, and disillusionment, as well as clinical conditions like depression and anxiety. Having gone down the rabbit hole of extreme wellness herself, Real Self-Care is Lakshmin's answer to the juice cleanses, the gratitude lists, and the bubble baths — not only to care for ourselves for real but, in turn, to transform our broken culture.Read an Excerpt Read an Excerpt Chapter 1 Empty Calories Faux Self-Care Hasn't Saved Us Revolutions that last don't happen from the top down. They happen from the bottom up. Gloria Steinem My patient Erin, thirty-eight, a mom of three school-age kids, wanted to pull her hair out whenever she heard the term self-care. She was up before 5:00 a.m. most mornings, responding to emails, getting the kids ready for school, and then rushing into the office for a ten-hour day. In the evenings, she'd pick up the kids and prep dinner before helping with homework and bedtime routines. Around 9:30 p.m., she would open up her laptop again for another two hours of work. "Just tell me, when in this chaos am I supposed to find time for self-care?" she lamented. "I don't need a two-hundred-dollar massage, though it sure would be nice. I need more than five hours of sleep a night." Whenever Erin found a couple of minutes to look into doing something for herself, the advice she found felt painfully condescending: "learn how to meditate" or "make a gratitude list." Instead of giving her a sense of relief, these recommendations just made Erin feel bad. "If everyone else seems to feel better with a bubble bath and a glass of wine, what's wrong with me that I can't get it together to make that happen?" Then there was Hina, twenty-nine, who was struggling to achieve that elusive work-life balance. In her pursuit, she found herself diving headfirst into optimization and productivity strategies. She was always the first in her group of friends to try out the new meal delivery service and was fortunate to be able to outsource household tasks from time to time. Her focus on productivity was theoretically in service of finding time to do self-care, yet Hina could never quite pour the time she gained back into herself. When she did grab an extra hour for herself, she felt irritated by the leftover dishes in the sink and plagued by guilt for not spending more time at work. These stories are'common'in my clinical practice, where, as a psychiatrist, I specialize in women's mental health. I see women of all backgrounds and ages-single and partnered, mothers and those who are child-free. Some of these women are coping with depression or anxiety, but many are just struggling to figure out how to take care of themselves in the midst of incredibly busy and hectic lives-and that was before a pandemic raised our stress and anxiety levels to epic proportions. The commonality among all of these women is clear, though-they're struggling, and what they're doing to find relief isn't working. The Broken Promises of Faux Self-Care In the past few years, I've noticed something curious happening. For women, the cultural obsession with self-care has not only failed to provide solace, it has also added more guilt and pressure. A'common'refrain I hear in my practice is "I'm burned out, I just can't do it anymore, and I feel like it's my fault because I should be taking care of myself." Self-care ends up being another burden, another thing on the to-do list for women to feel bad about because they aren't doing it right. I call this the tyranny of self-care. My patients feel beaten down and confused, and so do I. And, taking it a step further, many of us also understandably feel insulted and resentful that not only do we not have time for these fistrategies," but even when we do them, they don't provide the relief that is advertised. Or on the occasions when they do work, the relief doesn't last long. We are right to recognize that it's ridiculous that the solution we are sold to the unrelenting demands of being a woman in the twenty-first century is a twenty-dollar bath bomb. Our culture has taken wellness and foisted it on the individual-where it can be bought, measured, and held up as personal success-instead of investing in making our social systems healthy. Personally, I also know the allure of these supposed fixes all too well-I shared in the introduction about my wellness-cult deep dive. But even before that dramatic decision, in my early twenties I turned to yoga as a fix for being a burned-out medical student. It certainly helped at first-my weekly yoga class was a much-needed break from memorizing the Krebs cycle, and I felt stronger in my body. But like a pattern I observe with many of my patients, I brought the same perfectionistic mindset to yoga that I took to medical school. When I couldn't keep up with the rigid yoga schedule I had outlined, I quickly chalked myself up as a failure. There was also that time I subscribed to Real Simple magazine, convinced that if I gained mastery over my out-of-control closet, a feeling of inner contentment would closely follow. (I'm only slightly embarrassed to report that there's still a pile of Real Simple magazines collecting dust at the bottom of my closet.) The data backs up the fact that commodified wellness is not working. American women not only report higher stress levels than men but also feel they are not doing a good job of managing it. A 2018 Canadian study of more than two thousand workers found that women reported higher levels of burnout compared to men. A systematic review from the University of Cambridge conducted across Europe and North America found that women are nearly twice as likely to suffer from anxiety as men, and there is a similar discrepancy when it comes to depression. One in five women ages forty to fifty-nine and nearly one in four women sixty and over were prescribed antidepressant medications in the United States, according to data from 2015 to 2018. For women ages eighteen to thirty-nine, the number was closer to one in ten. Yet, curiously, search Instagram and you'll find more than sixty million posts tagged with #SelfCare. They run the gamut from beachside yoga to triumphant mommy blogs to "curative" smoothie recipes. If we use social media as our guide, self-care appears to be . . . anything that looks good in a photo? As I mentioned earlier, this is faux self-care-the wellness behaviors and practices that are commonly sold as a remedy for women's problems. In many cases, faux self-care is just a sugar high, serving as an escape from the realities of daily life and moving us further away from our true selves. Faux self-care is also big business. A report from the Global Wellness Institute found that the global wellness industry, which is targeted at women in particular, was worth $4.4 trillion in 2020. While products like crystal-infused water bottles and vagus nerve pillow sprays might elicit a temporary sense of calm (putting aside the fact that they are too pricey for most American women), they do nothing to change the social systems that have us craving relief in the first place-so the cycle of consumerism continues unabated. Faux self-care is faux because when used alone, without the critical internal work we will discuss in this book, it does nothing to change our larger systems. A Note on Social Media Influencer
Recharge your spirit and mood by reading these 26 fantastic and inspiring quotes that will make your day seem brighter!
Discover 44 positive affirmations for stress, worry, and anxiety. Allow these affirmations to help you feel calm & strong in all moments.
These uplifting quotes will help you conquor whatever hard time you might be having! They are some of our favorite quotes!
Hello ladies, are you in need of a little inspiration? Today you will have all the strength you need with these quotes for women that will help inspire and uplift you!
Feel like nothing you do is good enough? If can identify with these "not good enough" quotes after your relationship ends and you break up, look to these words of encouragement and know that things will get better soon.
Recharge your spirit and mood by reading these 26 fantastic and inspiring quotes that will make your day seem brighter!
If you're feeling overwhelmed and need a mood booster, these podcasts are perfect for helping you slow down and de-stress. Feat. The Lively Show, Magic Lessons, and The Simple Show.
10 inspiring and motivational quotes that will uplift you.
Recharge your spirit and mood by reading these 26 fantastic and inspiring quotes that will make your day seem brighter!
Enjoy 15 inspirational quotes to start your day feeling motivated and positive. Inspiring quotes & positive words can put our mindset right.
Notes From Your BooksellerKate Bowler is a wonderful writer, and I've been waiting and hoping for this follow-up. Her first book, Everything Happens for a Reason, which detailed her fight with cancer while still in her 30s, was simultaneously heartbreaking and uplifting. NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • The bestselling author of Everything Happens for a Reason (And Other Lies I’ve Loved) asks, how do you move forward with a life you didn’t choose? “Kate Bowler is the only one we can trust to tell us the truth.”—Glennon Doyle, author of the #1 New York Times bestseller Untamed It’s hard to give up on the feeling that the life you really want is just out of reach. A beach body by summer. A trip to Disneyland around the corner. A promotion on the horizon. Everyone wants to believe that they are headed toward good, better, best. But what happens when the life you hoped for is put on hold indefinitely? Kate Bowler believed that life was a series of unlimited choices, until she discovered, at age thirty-five, that her body was wracked with cancer. In No Cure for Being Human, she searches for a way forward as she mines the wisdom (and absurdity) of today’s “best life now” advice industry, which insists on exhausting positivity and on trying to convince us that we can out-eat, out-learn, and out-perform our humanness. We are, she finds, as fragile as the day we were born. With dry wit and unflinching honesty, Kate Bowler grapples with her diagnosis, her ambition, and her faith as she tries to come to terms with her limitations in a culture that says anything is possible. She finds that we need one another if we’re going to tell the truth: Life is beautiful and terrible, full of hope and despair and everything in between—and there’s no cure for being human. Product DetailsISBN-13: 9780593230770 Media Type: Hardcover Publisher: Random House Publishing Group Publication Date: 09-28-2021 Pages: 224 Product Dimensions: 7.60(w) x 5.30(h) x 1.00(d)About the Author Kate Bowler is an associate professor of the history of Christianity in North America at Duke Divinity School. She completed her undergraduate degree at Macalester College, received a master’s of religion from Yale Divinity School, and a PhD at Duke University. She is the author of Blessed: A History of the American Prosperity Gospel, the New York Times bestselling memoir Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved, and The Preacher’s Wife: The Precarious Power of Evangelical Women Celebrities. On her popular podcast, Everything Happens, she talks with people about what they have learned in difficult times and why it is so difficult to speak frankly about suffering. She has appeared on the TED stage, NPR, and Today, and her writing has been featured in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Time. She lives in Durham, North Carolina, with her husband, Toban, and son, Zach.Read an Excerpt Read an Excerpt Chapter One Best Life Now I was in bed in the surgical wing of Duke University Hospital when the doctor popped his head in the door and smiled apologetically before flicking on the fluorescent lights. It was 4:00 a.m., the end of my second night in the hospital, but no one in a hospital sleeps in the conventional sense. There are only intervals of sleep without rest, interrupted by unfamiliar voices. What’s your date of birth? On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your pain? To this day, if you wake me up from a nap, I will immediately tell you my birthday. I opened my eyes and saw a boyish face. The doctor wore a white coat too large for his frame and his eyes were bleary either from a day that had only begun or from a night that had gone on too long. “Six, sixteen, 1980. June 16.” “Right,” the doctor said, then paused. “So . . . you’re thirty-five.” I nodded, and my eyes began to water. I brushed the tears away quickly. Not the right moment for that now, thank you. “If you keep replenishing my fluids, I’ll just keep crying,” I explained. “Maybe keep me in a stage of light dehydration for the next few days.” The doctor suppressed a laugh and began to riffle through my case history. “The patient has a history of abdominal pain after meals. Significant weight loss. Nausea and vomiting. No ultrasound evidence of gallstones or cholecystitis, but results of hepatobiliary scan led to a surgical consult to remove the patient’s gallbladder . . . then you got a CT scan.” “No,” I corrected. “I yelled at a surgeon for the first time in my life and said that I was not leaving his office without a scan. Then they ordered a scan.” This had been the biggest showdown of my life, the doleful surgeon with his arms folded and me loudly demanding some kind of treatment. It had been five months, and I had lost thirty pounds. I was doubled over with the pain. “I can’t bear this much longer,” I had said, again and again as doctors benignly shuffled me along. The young doctor glanced up at me and then turned back to his notes. “The scan revealed that the liver has multiple focal lesions; the largest are seen within the caudate and right hepatic lobe in addition to several scattered subcentimeter lesions, some are noted within the periphery of the liver and some are subcapsular. The large left transverse colon mass was what created the functional obstruction for you, hence the pain.” He looked up at me quickly. “And then there are local regional lymph nodes that are worrisome for early peritoneal carcinomatosis.” The heart monitor beeped softly. I cleared my throat nervously. “Um, so, this is my first real conversation since the diagnosis. I mean, I know I had surgery, obviously.” Flustered, I tried to start again. “The day before yesterday, a doctor’s assistant called me on the phone at work to tell me that I had Stage Four cancer. But I don’t know what these terms mean except that it sounds like I am a spaghetti bowl of cancer. People keep saying ‘lesions,’ ” I said. “I haven’t had a chance to google it. What are lesions exactly?” “Tumors. We’re talking about tumors.” “Ohhhhh,” I said, embarrassed by another flood of tears. “Right. And are there more than four stages of cancer?” “No.” “Okay, so I have the . . . most. The most cancer,” I finished lamely. The doctor stood there for a minute, raking his hands through his hair, whatever plans he had for this conversation deteriorating. He lowered himself onto the chair beside the bed but remained bolt upright as if to remind us both that he could leave at any time. The room was warm and stale. A silence folded over us, giving me a moment to look at him more carefully now, his mussy hair and anxious expression, wrinkled coat and brand-new sneakers. He is too young for this. God, we are both too young for this. “I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.” “By all means.” “I’d like to know what my odds are. Of living. I’d like to know if I will live. No one has mentioned that.” I kept my voice invitational. I will not shoot this messenger. This is a friendly exchange between interested peers. He paused. “I only know how to answer that by telling you the median survival rate for people who share your diagnosis.” “Okay.” “Based on the information we have about people with Stage Four colon cancer, the survival rate is fourteen percent,” he said and began to scan the room as if looking for a window to climb out of. “A fourteen percent chance of survival,” I repeated in a neutral voice. My head felt suddenly heavy as if I were pushing the words up a steep hill. Fourteen percent. Fourteen percent. We lapsed into another silence. The doctor shifted in his seat. He rose to leave, but I reached out, abruptly, to stop him. “Hey!” I said too loudly. “I mean, hey.” Startled, he looked down. My hand was closed tightly around his arm like a collar. “It’s just . . .” I started again. “You’d better be holding my hand if you’re going to say stuff like that.” He sat back down and carefully took my hand. I closed my eyes and thought of the last time I was here, in this hospital, holding someone’s reluctant hand. It was a maternity nurse. And I could not be reasoned with. “Short inhale! Long exhale!” she had shouted. “Are you laughing or yelling?” A bit of both. But I was waiting for something absolutely wonderful to happen. I opened my eyes. “Okay.” I said, letting him go. He stood to leave. “Wait! Wait. Before you go. What does survival mean in this context?” He paused, his expression softening. “Two years,” he said. I don’t know what he saw, but he took my hand again. “Okay,” I said at last. “Okay then.” Because I was counting. Two years. 730 days. This new definition of living is glued together by a series of numbers. I would be thirty-seven years old. I would celebrate my fifteen-year wedding anniversary. Zach would turn three. I rummage around the things that the nurses had left within reach—a styrofoam cup of apple juice, peanut butter crackers, an untouched bowl of Jell-o cubes—until yes, there. My phone. I pull up the calendar and the calculator for some quick math: two Christmases, two summers, and 104 Thursdays. I sink back into the bed with a long exhale. That is not enough time to do anything that matters. Only small terrible choices now. Just then, Toban tiptoes into my hospital room holding a coffee so protectively that I already know the kind of night he has endured. I stuff the phone under my blankets and smile. Seeing me awake, he smiles back, a little nervously. A newly forming habit. “Did I miss anything?” he asks, coming around to the side of my bed to press his cool palm against my sticky forehead. He frowns. “No,” I reply quickly. “There’s nothing definite, I mean.” He settles into the chair and leans back, closing his eyes. I study him for a long moment. My husband has only ever had three facial expressions on his stupidly handsome face: brooding, sleepy, and what I call “trampoline face” which is the self-satisfied look of a grown man about to do a flip on a trampoline and hoping everyon
Is this quote not one of the most gorgeous, uplifting things you’ve ever read? It’s so simple, but it’s so true!!! The actual quote goes like this: “For a while they [Frodo …
Sometimes watching the news it's hard to remember that everything isn't horrible, so enjoy these wholesome pics and uplifting memes as a reminder not...
The Power of Kind Words: Cultivating Growth in Our Interactions - In the intricate tapestry of God's creation, we find awe-inspiring wonders at every turn.
Here are the 41 best positive affirmations for success to help achieve all your goals. Use them daily to see how amazing your life can get.
In my first blog, Happens for a Reason, I would publish "Quotes of the Moment" posts that were basically collages of quotes that discovered in Instagram, Pinterest, and Tumblr. The quotes I included in my post helped me to explain my feelings when I perhaps couldn't explain my feelings through writing.
The dreaded ex. Most of us have got them. There are millions of occasions when the situation is resolved with an amicable, mature ceasefire that can even blossom into a beautiful friendship. Sadly, there are just as many occasions when the asshole can frankly just drop dead for all you care, together with his savage text fails.
