by Leisa A. Hammett | Aug 11, 2011 | All The Rest of Life, Autism/Disability, Divorce, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood
I'm giving this summer the finger. Well, actually, I mean, well, the wave of us Mothers From Hell & Friends is the slightly raised third finger. And that's me above driving The Divorce Mobile in two-thousand-and-something-or-another. And I've...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Aug 9, 2011 | All The Rest of Life, Art, Autism/Disability, Midlife and Beyond, Spirituality
Another gem from Nashville-based (daily MUST read) "Spirit Coach" Gregory Fisher, via his June 16, "Gregory Fisher's Treat Yourself to Your Best" This post is entitled "Fingerprint:" "I see people every day who are struggling to...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 21, 2011 | Autism/Disability, Divorce, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Nashville!, Spirituality
Have you heard of Byron Katie? It was 2007, I think, that I first heard of Katie & "The Work." I've since met others who have worked with her, I've seen her on video, read about her and done a little work with the four questions myself. Read more...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 17, 2011 | Divorce, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond
"[Rules I’ve unlearned…No. 10] What I now know is that losses aren't cataclysmic if they teach the heart and the soul their natural cycle of breaking and healing. A real tragedy? That the loss of the heart and soul themselves. If you've abandoned yourself...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 12, 2011 | Autism/Disability, Divorce, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Nashville!, Spirituality
From Nashville-based (daily MUST read) "Spirit Coach" Gregory Fisher, via his June 16, "Gregory Fisher's Treat Yourself to Your Best" This post is entitled "Under the Circumstances": "Do we ever find ourselves saying,...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 5, 2011 | Art, Divorce, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond
This is what happens when both your parents die. You're left with large, elaborately framed photographs of yourself that you don't want. Hand colored studio portraits of you in a starched white dress, a shiny tow-headed bob. (That brief, inexplicable period of...
