Life Lessons at the Airport

“Why is it that every time I travel I end up at the furthest gate on the longest concourse in any airport I am traveling through?” I thought to myself as I walked through O’Hare Airport; my carry-on bag slung over my shoulder, my Sunday paper tucked under my arm and my Coke (of course) in my hand.  I made my way down the quiet concourse to wait for my plane to take me to San Diego.  I was feeling young and small and once again in my life, I felt out of place.  I started wondering “when am I going to feel like I belong somewhere?”

I enjoyed my job and for the first time I felt I really had some value and something to contribute.  I am off to do group meetings to enroll employees in their benefit plans.  I thought about how I had information that other people needed and I thought about what a great responsibility that is.  Instead of having a fear of getting up in front of a group of people and speaking, I was calm and relaxed.

I sat back and as I began reading my paper and drinking my Coke I noticed a man walking toward me.  I watched the way he walked with confidence.  He seemed to be a person of power and wealth.  He was a good looking man with perfectly tailored clothes and impressive stature; this man had a presence.  I’ve always been an observer of people and have always played the game of putting people in a job and life circumstance in my imagination.  I thought whoever he was he was definitely successful.  I thought he seemed pretty arrogant and full of himself… I made a lot of judgments and assumptions based on how he carried himself and what he was wearing.

As he got closer I stopped watching him and pretended to read my paper.  The terminal was empty, although there were plenty of open seats, he sat right next to me.  He got himself situated, putting his carry-on bag here and his coffee there and his magazine: Newsweek, plopped down on the floor in front of him. “You traveling for business, pleasure, or are you heading home?” he asked ignoring the fact that I was reading my paper.  “Business… and you?” I answered.  “Heading home.” He sighed as he relaxed slumped back in his chair still looking at me.  He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.  He looked to be in his early fifties and I was in my early twenties.  “What do these two people have in common?” I thought as I chucked my paper on the floor and pulled my legs up onto my seat and tucked them underneath me.  I turned to him.  I had no idea what to say or what to expect but he was staring at me clearly waiting for me to say something…  He was waiting and I was intrigued.

“So, what’s your story?” I asked, surprised that those words came out of my mouth.  He sat up in his chair and turned his body toward me, never breaking his stare.  Now it was his turn to be intrigued. “What do you mean?  What story do you want to hear?” he asked excitedly. “I don’t know; what story do you want to tell me?” I said smiling at him.

The challenge was on.

He smiled and turned staring ahead at the empty terminal in front of us for at few minutes.  He slowly rubbed his hand back and forth on his chin.  I found that amusing, like it was helping him think.  I could see he welcomed the challenge and was going to call my bluff and come up with a good story.  With the smile still on his face, suddenly he swung back with a childlike expression on his face and a glow in his eye. 

“When I was in college” he started “I was in this fraternity…” as he continued with his story he moved around the seat with excitement and animation as he spoke, there were times he stood up and acted out parts of his story.  I remember feeling the gap between where I was at in my life and where he was at in his life quickly disappear.  I remember thinking how simple and real this moment felt.  I thought about how I felt I would have nothing in common with this person in his well tailored suit as a judged him while he was approaching me only minutes earlier.

After he finished his story he immediately sat back and began telling me how his wife had passed away a few years ago and what brought him here to O’Hare Airport on this day.  Today was not a business trip or vacation; today was another story of great loss in his life.  In this moment I realized how similar we all are.  No matter what our age or our life circumstances, we all have a great need to connect with others, we all have a great need to feel like we belong.

We all have a need to tell our stories, but more important, we all need to have our stories heard.

We all need to be listened to, we all need to be understood and we all need to be receive with compassion.  I realized why he sat right next to me.  The terminal was empty, for the most part, but what he needed more then anything, was human connection.

He simply needed to be heard.

It was time for our plane to board; he, of course, was in first class.  I, of course, was not.  He got up and he thanked me, I got up and gave him a hug and said, “No, thank you.” “For what?” he asked.  “For the life lesson.” I smiled.   He simply returned the smile and the hug and walked off.

As he walked away I realized I never did find out what he did for a living.  I also realized how glad I was that it never came up.  We connected on a real level, not on a superficial level of age or job title, but human to human, story to story.

My Brother

I am thankful for all of my siblings, however, I want to pay special tribute to my brother, John.   John is a year older and he is my ‘partner’.  What does that mean?   I am one of six and as I said, my brother and I are a year apart, then there’s a five year gap and my sisters, Jill and Kory are about a year and a half apart.  Again, there’s another five year gap, with my sisters Jane and Kate being just short of two years apart.  So you see, we each have a partner, and John is my partner.

This is my brother before I was born… clearly he was miserable without me.

Me and John hanging out.

In college John perfected his drinking, something he started in high school.  For me, it was college that really marked the beginning of ‘the missing years’.  For me, his partner, it was the beginning of almost 20 years of time lost.  My brother was disappearing, and eventual for me, he was gone.  Not literally disappearing; we still saw him, but it wasn’t my brother sitting there and he wasn’t any kind of reliable partner to me.  I no longer had a partner to share things with, to confide in or to lean on.  I know I still had my sisters, and thank God for them, but there is a special kind of relationship with your partner and I no longer had mine.  He would call me from time to time and simply ask “do you think I am an alcoholic?” to which I would always answer “yes” but that would usually be the extent of the conversation.  Partly because he was drinking or had been drinking and I didn’t talk to him when he was drinking.  Both to punish him and to protect myself.  And partially because he no longer wanted to speak to me when my answer was “yes”.

In 2006 I called my brother to wish him a happy birthday.  In that call he told me that he had quit drinking a few weeks earlier.  Thankfully, to his credit and hard work, he is still sober.

I am thankful to have my partner back.  I now have him back to share things with, to confide in and to lean on.  The journey of internal growth and self exploration he has gone through to bring his life back to good is admirable.  I am grateful to have his wisdom and his point of view on things.  He is now there to help me and guide me through my struggles and triumphs.

My siblings and I know that having six siblings that actually all get along and all love each other is something special and it’s something we don’t take for granted.

This is John and I now.  I am so proud of my brother and I love him very much.  I always have, even through ‘the missing years’.  But to have him back is something I am very thankful for.

My Sisters

Since Thanksgiving is just around the corner I wanted to spend a few blogs focusing on what I am thankful for.  First and foremost is my family but I want to dedicate this first tribute of thanks to my sisters.  We have a brother too, he is the oldest and is only a year older than me.  Although there is 15 years from oldest to youngest, we are very close.

I'm not sure where this picture was taken...

My sisters are all loving, caring, forgiving and an inspiration to me.  They are all courageous, brave, beautiful and strong.  They are always fun to be with. In the picture above, left to right is Kate, Jill, Jane, Kory and Me.

Kate, Jane, Jill & Kory in London Heathrow

This is a picture of my sisters at London Heathrow, customs wanted to go through their stuff… they look suspicious to me too.  Notice I’m not behind the barrier.  I did get in trouble for taking pictures and we all got in trouble for goofing around.  By the way Kate ended up having nail clippers, scissors and some other illegal items in her bag.  Whew, good thing they caught her. (Look how guilty she looks in the picture – she’s all the way on the left).

Taking some time to relax and read.

In this picture we are waiting for our tour bus in Italy.   Jill (center) of course is polishing her nails. If you knew Jill you wouldn’t be surprised.

Kate and I in "timeout" in Assisi Italy

My sisters and I are together all the time, yet we never run out of things to talk about.  They are the first people I turn to when I need advice, want to share some good news or need a shoulder to cry on.

On some steps in Florance

I am thankful that I have such amazing siblings and a built in support system.  Peace, happiness and love to everyone this holiday season.

Fear vs. Regret

It seems we stop our lives short of happiness because of our fears.  Especially now, with the economy being the way it is, a lot of people are now living what they have feared.

Often I am asked “what is worse to live with: fear or regret?“

A few years ago my father, my sisters and I were in Rome.  We had the opportunity to go through the Catacombs.  Being claustrophobic I decided I was not going to go in them.  I could think of a lot of other things I would rather be doing then going deep underground and walking through a maze of hallways leading to hidden rooms where a long time ago people gathered to secretly have mass, celebrate their faith and bury their dead.

We got to the Catacombs and I stood in line as my family and the other people on the trip with us were waiting to go in.  I thought to myself that this fear of mine is stopping me from even trying. I disregarded the whole experience and wasn’t even willing to try because I have this fear.  I thought about how two days from now I will be sitting on a plane on my way home.  I thought about how I would regret that I didn’t even try to go down into the Catacombs.  I thought about how I don’t know if I will ever be in Rome again and if I would ever get a “do-over” on skipping this experience today.

So I decided I would try.  I thought (okay, this will make you laugh) I thought, I will go down and if it is that bad I will turn around a come back up.  Yeah, nice try, you cannot turn around and come back.  But I realized that too late. I realized that after I had descended the stairs down deep underground.  It was getting dark and narrow.  As light from the open world behind me was getting dimmer and dimmer I turned around to reassure myself that I was fine and I could get out if I wanted.

No, I couldn’t… there was a river of people flowing down the stairs behind me.

I was stuck… I had no choice but to keep moving… The only way out was to go through.

Hmmm, sounds like a metaphor for life.

So, I got right up to the Priest who was leading the tour and stayed on him.  We started walking and he was giving us the history and interesting information about the Catacombs.  Blah, blah, blah. Get me out of here!

At this point the walls were only my shoulders width apart, it was tight.  We turned a corner and I saw the most beautiful thing that I would see my entire time in Italy:

The “exit” sign and the end of the path.

Yes, it really struck me as odd and looked completely out of place to have a lighted exit sign in the Catacombs, but I didn’t care, at that moment I loved the person who put it there.   I was so happy we were almost finished and thought to myself, “see, that was no big deal“.

The priest leaned down and put up a chain blocking that part of the hallways and began leading us deeper and deeper back into the Catacombs and further away from my beloved exit sign.  “We are going to go all the way  back, tucked into the far corner to see one of the rooms where they used to say mass, isn’t that exciting?” the priest asked me in his Italian accent, that  made it actually almost sound exciting. “No, not really, I was liking the looks of the exit sign.” I replied.  He laughed and said “Ahhh, claustrophobic? It was brave of you to come down anyway, good for you.” Again, sounding much nicer with the Italian accent.

We got to the back corner, I was still alive. I was the first person into the room but stayed at the doorway, where the last person into the room should have stood.  People filed in the room and it made me more and more nervous.  Eventually, everyone was in and the room was packed.  I was still at the doorway, but that wasn’t good enough.  I left the room and squatted down against the wall in the hallway.  I looked way down to the beginning of this hallway and watched people pass and head in the direction of the exit sign.  It made me feel more blocked in.  Now there are groups of people between me and the exit sign.

My stomach hurt and although it was cold down there, I was sweating.

Eventually we finished the tour and we got out.  I turned to my sister and said “I will never do that again.” she turned to me and said “you know, I bet you would, cause now you know what to expect and look, you’re fine.“

She is right.  I walked through my fear and I was fine and I have no regret.

I know this is a simple story of fear and regret, but we can all see how our fears can result in regrets that are much more painful and much more crippling. I have learned that our fears can stop us from really living our life to the fullest.  Our fears and our fears alone are what create our regrets.  It is our fear of something that causes us to not love all the way, not live all the way and not experience true joy all the way.

Our fears we can walk through, we can always conquer our fears, but sometimes we cannot undo our regrets.  The more we walk through and fight through our fears, the less regrets we will have in the end.

I never regretted going into the Catacombs, but I would have always regretted it if I hadn’t.

Even Football Players Cry.

Immediately upon receiving my coaching certification I began volunteering at CTC (The Career Transition Center) downtown Chicago.  Here I did one-on-one coaching with people in job search or “in transition” as it is referred to these days.

One day, a new client walked into my office, he was a large man with a large presence.  His life had consisted of football and more football as a player, a coach and a fan… and you could tell.

He sat in my office and discussed life and the struggles of being “in transition”.  He dove into all of the emotions that came with this part of his journey.  He often got choked up and every week his eyes would tear up and he would cry just talking through everything.  The emotional toll that being unemployed took on him was apparent and growing as the weeks progressed.  One week he stopped talking and held his face in his hands and started sobbing.  He told me that one of their two cars had been repossessed this week, and their house was now in the beginning stages of being  foreclosed on.

Each week as he cried, I listened.

He talked about his wife being sick, she has MS.  He talked about the additional stress her illness added to his list of things to worry about.  He talked about his daughters, ages 18 and 20 at that time. The bills for college and the bills that came with everyday life.  He talked about how close and how loving and supportive they were as a family.  He painted a beautiful picture.  But still each week he would sit in my office and cry because of all of the stress and uncertainly.  He would cry about his fears and his insecurity about who he was and what was going to happen next for his career and for his family.

One day he came in and sat down and began to tell me that he was worried about his wife, she told him the she felt he was disappearing, that she felt he was pulling away from her.  I have to say I was surprised to hear that she would say that after all the stories about how supportive and close they were.

So I asked him, “what does she say when you tell her all the stuff you tell me about how scared you are and how insecure you feel and how worried you are about the future?“  He said “Oh, no! I don’t talk to her about all that!“  I was shocked “why?” I asked “Because I am trying to protect her.” he said in a very matter-of-fact way “Hmmm, protect her from what?  You come in here week after week and talk about your fears.  You sit in front of me each week and cry because you are so scared.  How can you tell me and not your wife?  She knows your car has been repossessed, she knows your house is in foreclosure, what are you protecting her from?“

He sat and thought about it for a while.  His athletic, football physic was now all slumped over in the chair looking very much like that of a 5 year old boy feeling scared, guilty and shameful.  He looked past me - almost through me, staring blankly at the wall for a while.

I sat in silence observing him.

Eventually he looked back at me and kind of smiled and winced at the same time… “I really don’t know.” he said, shrugging his shoulders adding to the childlike behavior he had transformed into.

I looked at him, as the tears rolled down his face, I smiled and said “Your wife knows you are scared, unsure and afraid of the unknown, but you are not talking to her about it and that scares her and makes her feel like you are drifting away.  She can feel that disconnect and that scares her more then losing your car or your home. She would probably live with you in a tent in an empty field.“  I told him to go home and tell her… I told him to tell her everything he was scared of.

To tell a person you love all of your fears and insecurities and have them put their arms around you and love you anyway, that is unconditional love… that is what we are all here to experience.

So, the next week he came into my office and closed the door.   Before he even sat down his eyes were filled with tears.  He started by thanking me for the most amazing gift of his life.  He sat down and began telling me about what happened after he left my office that day.

He left questioning what I told him, but soon thought that it made sense.  After all, what did he have to lose.  So he asked his wife and daughters too, to sit down so he could talk to them.  He said opening his mouth to begin to speak was one of the hardest things he had ever done.  He continued to explain that as he started talking, as the words came out of his mouth, it soon became the easiest thing he had ever done.   As he started telling them about all of his fears, insecurities and worries about the future, they all moved in and gathered closer together.  As she watched her football player husband cry for the first time ever and as his daughters saw their father in a brand new light, they moved in closer and put their hands on him.  Soon their arms were around him.  They listened as he spoke from his heart.  They listened as his voice cracked as he talked through his tears.  He said by the time he was finished they were all crying, but they were also all sitting together, arms wrapped around each other sharing their fears and reassuring each other that no matter what, they would all be fine.

Unconditional love… He opened up and allowed himself to be completely vulnerable, he told the people he loved his fears and they loved him anyway.

Over the next few weeks he was still looking for a job and still unsure about his future, but what he was sure of was that he is loved…

He said it was true, his wife said she would live in a tent on an open field with him any day.  He thanked me again, but I told him that he did all the work, I just suggested he give vulnerability a try.

So, it seems… even football players cry.

My secret…

I stand in front of a room full of people, over and over and I tell my story.  I talk about all the good, the bad and the ugly things in my life that have together brought me to where I’m at in my life right now.  I tell it all, and I honor the mistakes and the miss-steps I have taken along the way.  I talk about what I learned from them and how I am grateful for all of it because I like where my life is right now.  I like the adventures that both challenge and joy brings.

I talk about how they brought me to write my book about my Five Guiding Principles:

1. Be 100% present in everything you do; nothing else is more important then the experience of this moment.

2. We are all different for a reason; draw on other people’s strengths to make you stronger and resist the need to control others.

3. Discover your uniqueness; we all need to discover, develop and share our uniqueness, this is where our confidence lies.

4. Stand in who you are; don’t make excuses for the decisions you have made in your life.  Honor them all and believe that your life is supposed to look like it looks right now – no matter what that is.

5. There is a reason why our lives unfold one moment at at time; to give us a chance to stop, to cope and to breathe… to give us a chance to catch up.

Nothing we haven’t all heard before, I know, but these are the 5 principles that I believe once you implement them into your life, your life will be more peaceful and free.

So, I stand in front of the room and I tell my stories, the stories of the times when I didn’t follow these principles; the time in my life that I didn’t really like myself very much.  The time when my fears and insecurities ran my life and created a person that I didn’t even like.   I stand there and tell these stories that don’t always show me in my best light… and people tell me that I am courageous, that I am an inspiration and that I have motivated them to change.

What?

Courageous? Inspiration? Motivating?

Here is my secret… say it out loud.

Tell your story.

I quickly learned that every time I told my story it helped me heal, but even more surprising to me was that every time I told my story it also helped the people who heard my story heal too.

Later, after I speak, I sit in a room together with people who just heard me and one-by-one in a smaller, intimate group, they open up and tell their story.  Here they begin their journey of healing.

Because I spoke-

she decides to speak, and then-

he decided to speak too…

Soon, together, we learn that we are all the same here, we all have stories and we are all working our way through this life together.

I have learned that keeping my pain, insecurities and fears to myself made me someone I didn’t like and gave me a life that wasn’t very fun.  I learned when I started telling my story, people started telling theirs and this simple act of realizing that we are not alone brings peace, calm and healing into our lives.

This is my secret, and go ahead and tell people, it’s not one of those secrets you need to keep: say it out loud… there it is, that’s the big secret… whatever it is that is causing you pain, say it out loud.   Inside your heart, whatever you are holding in there is monumental.  But when you say it out loud and it is out in the vastness of the universe, you will realize it is not monumental at all.  So tell your story, tell it over and over and see that talking about your fears, insecurities and the ugly parts of your life will actually free you.

We all have issues and burdens and we are here to help each other carry them, not judge how we got them.

So, you see, I don’t think I am courageous or inspirational, I just learned that saying things out loud and sharing my story has brought me and the people I have shared them with healing, which leads to a more peaceful life.  Because of that feeling, because I love how it feels to be real and transparent, I will stand in front of the room as often as I can and tell my story again.  If that makes me courageous, inspiring and motivating then, okay, if it helps others to learn what I have learned, then I will take and wear those labels with honor.

Say it out loud.  Do it just once and see…

Tell me… I’ll listen.

I consider all the stories I have heard gifts. I treasure every one of them just as much as I treasure the people who felt a safe-haven with me.  Safe enough to opened up and share… simply because I shared.

Oh, Life…

Question: Every time I feel like I’ve got life figured out and life calms down, something else hits and I find myself in survival mode again. How do I stop this cycle?

My Answer: That cycle is called “Life”.  You can’t stop it.

We will never get to that point where we have “it” all figured out… it’s impossible.  All of our lives have struggles and pain. Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about it.  The only choice we have is how we get through the issues in our lives.  We all know people who think they have it all figured out, think they have all the answers.   These people don’t seem very happy to me, in addition they are usually not fun to be around or have a conversation with.

Our lives are all the same, we all deal with conflict, sadness and pain. But we are all also capable of experiencing happiness, peace and true joy, if and only if we don’t let the former hinder the experience of the latter.   Life never slows down, we seem to always be dealing with something negative effecting our lives.  It is up to us to hold onto the good stuff during the trying times.  I tell my boys that there is good and bad in everything we do and with everything we experience.  Sometimes the good is microscopic, but it is always there.  It’s our job to hold onto that goodness, sometimes with both hands, and let it pull us through the bad times.

Experience life for all it has to offer, don’t get caught up in the victim mode or waste time feeling sorry for yourself.  Instead, embrace it all and learn from all that life brings you.

P.S. Happy Birthday to my sister Kory.  This has not been an easy year for you, but you are brave and strong and you are loved.  I am proud of how you keep going, even through all the pain and sadness this year has brought you.  Your faith in yourself and in life is admirable.  I am blessed and lucky to have you as my sister… Stay strong, I love you.

Turmoil vs. Peace

Question: Sometimes life feels like constant turmoil, maybe mostly mine internally. It is a challenge for me to just make a decision for me and myself and then deal with the consequences. With all of the things going on in life, relationships, ex-relationships, jobs, kids, bills etc., do you ever feel peace?  Is that peaceful feeling usually short lived until something else is thrown at us?

My Answer:  I look at it the other way around…

I always have Peace, but then there are moments when my Peace is interrupted and I have to take in something that causes me to be scared or irritated.  Sometimes I even feel devastated, like this is the worst thing that can be happening to me – how will I ever recover?  But in those moments, I stop, and I breathe and I get out of my head and I think with my heart. My heart knows who I truly am, how strong I am and what I am capable of accomplishing.

I quickly realize that no matter what I am suddenly confronted with, I will get through it… I must get through it.  I think about in the grand scheme of things how much does this new challenge or ordeal really matter?   Whatever it is that I am confronted with or have to work through, most of the time it isn’t going to be a major impact on my life.  And even if it is, I cannot control it, I can only accept it.  This helps me relax and get back to feeling Peace.  We grow from all of our decisions, don’t put too much weight on them, they bring us to where we are supposed to be in life.  There isn’t a “right” or “wrong” decision, there is only the right decision in this moment.  We learn from everything so, we need to stay in our hearts and keep moving.

So, for me, it is the stress and tumultuous feelings that are short lived and the Peace is always there.

Not sad for Poooks anymore

For all of you out there following the “Poooks” story (read prior blog “I’m sad for Poooks” to be brought up to speed) and who have asked me what I did about it, here is the end of the saga.

The next day I received another text from the sender because clearly they are now assuming I am Poooks.  Funny, it never occurred to me that this person would continue texting Poooks.  Anyway, the text was one of those stupid ones that read:

“FWD: FWD: FWD: Do as it says:tonight the one u love will suddenly want u:) miss u:) and fall for u more:) send to 10ppl or BAD LUCK STARTS”

I knew right then and there that Poooks was not missing anything not getting the prior text… as a matter of fact I started to wonder if Poooks  gave this person the wrong phone number on purpose.  I was a little concerned that BAD LUCK was going to start for me but quickly disregarded it deciding that since the text was not intended for me that I wasn’t going to be held to the “curse of the ridiculous text“.

So, not because I still felt that Poooks was missing the long awaited text from her (or his) long-lost-love, but simply because I couldn’t be bothered with these texts anymore, I texted back:

“You have the wrong phone number.”

Yes, cold and to the point I know, but I didn’t want to waste too much energy on this Middle-School banter.  After all, I have a grown-up life to lead. (starting now).

Build a fortress, not just walls.

“I always stay up without sleeping and think to myself, where do I belong forever…” In My World -Avril Lavigne

Why are we here?

This is the question we all seem to wonder about our lives.  It is definitely the question that is pondered the most when I’m working with my clients.  Not to mention something I wonder myself from time to time.  I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I believe our lives are meant to be fun, I believe we are supposed to be enjoying our lives.   The problem is we all have things in our life that we need to deal with, things that hurt us, things that haunt us.  We all have issues and struggles, we all feel blindsided and have the wind knocked out of our sails at times.  But the fact is, we all need to keep living and we all need to keep moving through our lives.

So, what do we do to protect ourselves from the pain?  We build walls.

We build walls so we are well guarded and “protected” but these walls are built of our pain, these walls we build hold the pain in their with us.  We are not really protecting ourselves from anything, instead these walls cause us to be surrounded by our pain… all day… everyday.  Inside the walls, not only are we reminded of our pain, but we feel it too.  When we knock down our walls, we will still feel pain in our lives, but we will also feel true joy.  When we live inside the walls surrounded by the constant reminders our pain brings we are not capable of feeling true joy.

Joy and pain cannot occupy the same space at the same time.

Forget the life long punishments, forget staying in the pain to “protect” yourself from more pain.   It doesn’t work.  It causes us to sacrifice the rest of our lives.  We all make mistakes, we all experience pain, we are all hurt by people who love us, but we all deserve a  great life.  No matter who we are or where we come from, no matter what mistakes or miss-steps we have made along the way, we all deserve a great life.  Move on from the things that hurt you.  I hear it said that “time heals all wounds“, but time heals nothing.  It’s how we process our pain that leads us to healing.  With all the things in our lives that haunt us we need to process them, we need to learn the lesson, find the gift and/or seek forgiveness.  Sometimes the person we need to forgive is ourselves.  And forgiving ourselves can be the hardest person to forgive.  Once we have processed the things that haunt us we need to let them go.  We cannot let them go if we don’t first process why the pain was in our lives to begin with.  Process and let them go, then we can knock down the walls and really start living extraordinary lives.

Then we can be at peace, then we can discover where we belong forever, then and only then can we live in a fortress of peace and knowing instead of behind the cold, dark walls of pain.