Everyone needs to take a giant chill pill. I’m not endorsing drugs. (I have to clarify in today’s overly sensitive environment.) I’m saying it’s time to come up for air and breathe. People have become feverishly rabid either hating the current administration, protecting their beliefs, or both. It’s so intense you can see the foam coming out of some people’s mouths just by reading their Facebook posts. People have gone off the deep end with anger, hatred, over zealous opinions, and hanging on the media’s every lie, exaggeration and speculation. In fact, the media has a large bucket of chum they slosh through the airways daily for everyone to swim up and fester into a frenzy. If you could read the ingredients of the media chum, you would never swallow what they’re dishing out.

For those of you who follow Pink, you know I have lost 72 pounds. Well, in 2016 I gained 30 of it back after keeping it off three years. Of course I want to have a hissy fit about it, and yes, I am mad at myself, but neither of these actions serve me nor change it. So, this hissy fit is going to be different; I am not going to beat myself up. I am going to be gentle, nurturing and kind to myself. After all, it is pain and heartache that got me to this point. I don’t need any more.

February is the time of year when all eyes turn to love.  A day, February 14, Valentine’s Day, when we make a special effort to let people know we love them by showering them with a sea of pink and red hearts, cupids, cards, chocolates, candy grams, flowers, dinners and champagne. It is a beautiful day for most because we have expanded it to not only include lovers, but also children, family and friends. There is only one flaw with Valentine’s Day: It is just ONE day.

I sat in the balcony of a beautiful, historical, Lutheran church in downtown Charleston. It was a Friday morning. I peered down to the sea of black, bulging from the pews of the filled sanctuary. It was somber. The sniffles of quickly wiped tears wafted through the air. It was the funeral of Carter. He was 22.

“The New Year is a painting not yet painted; a path not yet stepped on; a wing not yet taken off! Things haven’t happened as yet! Before the clock strikes twelve, remember that you are blessed with
the ability to reshape your life!”   — Mehmet Murat ildan