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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360</id><updated>2012-06-01T02:55:45.276-05:00</updated><title type="text">This Crazy Idea...</title><subtitle type="html">I'm gathering some feedback on a concept for a resort in the midwest. Please share your thoughts, your personal journeys to creativity or wellness, and ideas on the stigma of mental illness.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>119</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ThisCrazyIdea" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="thiscrazyidea" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-8804664788703655217</id><published>2010-03-21T19:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T20:08:26.871-05:00</updated><title type="text">March Madness</title><content type="html">I was a cheerleader in high school, but I've never been a really big fan of basketball. I'm more of a football gal. So it amazes me every year - the talk of Cinderella teams, folks arranging their schedule around a game, and team colors flown from flag poles all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, it is something to bring us out of the winter slumber, and I'm all for that! The daffodils and crocus bring some color during a time of chills, rain, and yet - the promise of spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;What is bringing a little color to your winter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-8804664788703655217?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/8804664788703655217/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=8804664788703655217" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/8804664788703655217" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/8804664788703655217" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-madness.html" title="March Madness" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-7369748478510022730</id><published>2010-03-17T10:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T10:31:39.263-05:00</updated><title type="text">Green Beer - and other odd things</title><content type="html">Nothing against St. Patrick or his day, but green beer? Really? At any rate it tastes the same, so I'm good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a good thing to have stuff to celebrate. Whether it be the patron saint of engineers, a new relationship, a couple of pounds off the scale - all these things are little or not so little reminders of the positive things in life. By adding a party, a reward, a celebration, a reason to get out with friends, we add even more value to our triumphs and milestones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;What are you celebrating?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-7369748478510022730?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/7369748478510022730/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=7369748478510022730" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/7369748478510022730" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/7369748478510022730" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2010/03/green-beer-and-other-odd-things.html" title="Green Beer - and other odd things" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-2499560199251542183</id><published>2010-03-14T18:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T18:57:34.106-05:00</updated><title type="text">Suicide in the Spotlight</title><content type="html">Marie Osmond's son apparently killed himself. Amazingly, many Americans noticed - but only because Michael's mom was famous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we paying enough attention to those we love? What about the neighbor next door? If we inject a little bit of energy ahead of time, can we thwart an attempt? I'm not saying that this is a solution to the world's problems, but caring goes a long way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a CNN article on suicide (http://www.cnn.com/2010/HEALTH/03/11/save.friend.suicide/index.html), the author talks about how friends can help. Alexis more describes how her co-worker, "Ed", saved her life just by stopping by because he was worried about all the troubles she was facing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a popular bumper sticker that says "practice random acts of kindness". It might save &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-2499560199251542183?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/2499560199251542183/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=2499560199251542183" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/2499560199251542183" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/2499560199251542183" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2010/03/suicide-in-spotlight.html" title="Suicide in the Spotlight" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-8864618855884455992</id><published>2010-03-12T20:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T20:15:54.255-06:00</updated><title type="text">Spring Cleaning</title><content type="html">Clear out the cobwebs, dust off the thoughts, get rid of the strange ads attached to my posts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it is time to come back to the crazy idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-8864618855884455992?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/8864618855884455992/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=8864618855884455992" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/8864618855884455992" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/8864618855884455992" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-cleaning.html" title="Spring Cleaning" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-3141318367923262300</id><published>2009-04-23T20:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T20:36:35.195-05:00</updated><title type="text">Feelings, Actions, and Characters - Oh My!</title><content type="html">How do you know when the way you feel is based upon a "real" interpretation of an experience or if it is colored by your mental illness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I take that thought a bit further, what does it mean if you act upon those feelings? Are the actions real or some representation of true self?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As time goes on, and you develop behaviors based on these feelings, does this become your character?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Can reflection, therapy, etc. get you back to your true character?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-3141318367923262300?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/3141318367923262300/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=3141318367923262300" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3141318367923262300" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3141318367923262300" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/04/feelings-actions-and-characters-oh-my.html" title="Feelings, Actions, and Characters - Oh My!" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-4336932393784042850</id><published>2009-04-06T20:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:11:40.522-05:00</updated><title type="text">It Has Been A While</title><content type="html">Its been a while since I felt engaged at work, since I felt confident in my body, since my mother called me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a while since I drove a fun sexy car. Its been a while since my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; really jumped and bounced around. Its been a while since someone told me I was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a while since I was married. It has been a while since I went to church. Its been a while since I played the piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;What haven't you felt or done in a while? How does it make you feel?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-4336932393784042850?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/4336932393784042850/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=4336932393784042850" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/4336932393784042850" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/4336932393784042850" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-has-been-while.html" title="It Has Been A While" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-2340127821598672673</id><published>2009-03-15T20:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T20:21:32.029-05:00</updated><title type="text">KISS - Keep it Simple (Stupid)</title><content type="html">I need more kisses - the traditional kind and the application of simplicity in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma reminds me every Sunday when we talk on the phone that the world is getting too wrapped up in itself. That we all need more time rocking on the porch, drinking a root beer and chatting it up with our neighbors over the hedge. She's on to something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of us are "linked" electronically all over the place - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;crackberries&lt;/span&gt;, cell phones, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;, blogs, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;IM&lt;/span&gt;. But are we connected emotionally? Physically? Do we share energy or just electrons?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The price I pay is a sense of being in my own little world - which leads to loneliness. It's just too easy to type a note rather than stop by. But the hard way is more rewarding for my spirit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-2340127821598672673?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/2340127821598672673/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=2340127821598672673" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/2340127821598672673" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/2340127821598672673" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/03/kiss-keep-it-simple-stupid.html" title="KISS - Keep it Simple (Stupid)" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-7526089876014343290</id><published>2009-02-17T19:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T20:05:51.914-06:00</updated><title type="text">The Waiting Game</title><content type="html">Patience is not my strong suit. Most of my dad's side of the family is completely lacking in the skill.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've had to wait for a man to be ready to date me, for test results regarding a tumor (negative, thank you), and I'm still waiting to find out if I landed a new job...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who are wise and possess patience tell me that eventually I'll learn. Over time, I'll mellow and cease to fuss over the little stuff. (Apparently it's all little stuff). My parents knew this trait of me at a very young age. They gave me a painted "prayer rock". It said "God grant me patience - and I want it NOW!".  I'm still waiting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without delving into a psych class, I think patience and anxiety are related. &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Do you agree?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-7526089876014343290?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/7526089876014343290/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=7526089876014343290" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/7526089876014343290" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/7526089876014343290" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/02/waiting-game.html" title="The Waiting Game" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-4322099961679937216</id><published>2009-02-16T20:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T20:43:08.470-06:00</updated><title type="text">Deconfliction</title><content type="html">Lately I've been noticing in the public news as well as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bloggerland&lt;/span&gt; that the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;concensus&lt;/span&gt;" seems to be that depression and allowing our mental illnesses to exist and progress without drug interference is the way to go. (Obviously this cannot apply in cases of harm to others / self). We should use therapy, yoga, healthy eating, exercise, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;counceling&lt;/span&gt; from pastors / priests, and the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, however, we are told and taught to be self reliant, independent, and strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riddle me this - how in the world does one take six months to recover from depression or whatever malady one might have? If you are the breadwinner, and others are dependent upon you, can you afford to cry or mope your way through 8 hours everyday? Most likely your performance would suffer and you would be fired. Let's assume that you are not the breadwinner; perhaps you are the caregiver to children or family. How can you effectively guide, teach or care in a compromised mental state?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree in concept that it is best to take time to work through our challenges. For many folks, however, it's not an option - unless state care sounds good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Can these opposing requirements / expectations be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;deconflicted&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-4322099961679937216?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/4322099961679937216/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=4322099961679937216" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/4322099961679937216" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/4322099961679937216" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/02/deconfliction.html" title="Deconfliction" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-6464297050560639020</id><published>2009-02-05T21:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T21:20:29.952-06:00</updated><title type="text">"Agency" - and not because you are a star!</title><content type="html">I continue to be inspired by the writing of others. It is interesting to me how a word can have new meanings based on the context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Jon Allen of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Menninger&lt;/span&gt; Clinic (&lt;a href="http://www.menningerclinic.com/"&gt;www.menningerclinic.com&lt;/a&gt;) writes about Agency in regards to taking charge and responsibility for mental illness. Rather than riding the curve of medications or doing what the state or friends or doctors tell you to do, you decide to be in charge of your future. You select what treatments are meaningful, you are patient with yourself and your caregivers, you put as much energy as possible into your recovery. Interestingly enough, sometimes you don't have enough power or awareness to exercise agency. And so you wait until the time comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My forms of agency are yoga, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;acupuncture&lt;/span&gt;, support of friends, an active career, meditation, therapy, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;journaling&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;What is your agency?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-6464297050560639020?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/6464297050560639020/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=6464297050560639020" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/6464297050560639020" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/6464297050560639020" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/02/agency-and-not-because-you-are-star.html" title="&quot;Agency&quot; - and not because you are a star!" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-6094800080538678524</id><published>2009-01-26T19:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T19:58:24.066-06:00</updated><title type="text">CNN Article on the Mind</title><content type="html">A study of 222 women (why no men?) showed that we will adapt our behavior in order to "fit in". This includes things that were objectively incorrect, just so that we could be along with the majority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure we needed a study to figure this out. Anyone who has been involved in politics, seen 5 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; decide what game to play, or flipped through a fashion magazine can draw the same conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of interest to me was the fact that portions of the brain that reacted in these peer pressure situations were fear and anxiety. Dr. Gregory Burns says that "our brains are exquisitely turned to what other people think about us...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Is this perhaps the root of stigma?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-6094800080538678524?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/6094800080538678524/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=6094800080538678524" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/6094800080538678524" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/6094800080538678524" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/01/cnn-article-on-mind.html" title="CNN Article on the Mind" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-4527007398427111584</id><published>2009-01-15T20:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T20:57:05.890-06:00</updated><title type="text">Experiments in Love</title><content type="html">I can't afford my annual spa vacation, so I will have to settle for reading articles by the places I'd like to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kripalu's&lt;/span&gt; catalog has always been a good source for making me think, and the Spring version is no different. A staff member recalls the speaking of Swami &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kripalu&lt;/span&gt; on the subject of love in 1980. It was encouraging in that it reminds us all to be fools for love and as sentimental as possible. Unfortunately the wages of this love include pain. He asserts that there are three windows to love - openness, patience, and surrender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly realized that I have no patience and am very unwilling to surrender to another due to trust issues. But I wonder - &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;could another person's experiment of love break &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; my walls&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-4527007398427111584?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/4527007398427111584/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=4527007398427111584" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/4527007398427111584" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/4527007398427111584" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/01/experiments-in-love.html" title="Experiments in Love" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-3023680551461685778</id><published>2009-01-11T17:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T18:21:16.553-06:00</updated><title type="text">Doing The Math</title><content type="html">Here's what I know I need in order to stay well:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;8 - 10 hours of sleep every night&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30 minutes (morning and night) to walk the dog&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30 minutes for each meal&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1.5 hours of yoga&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30 minutes of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cardio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30 minutes to meditate&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;30 minutes to journal&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;60 minutes to tidy, prep meals, read mail, pay bills, etc.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;45 minutes to get ready each morning (shower, hair, dress)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Worst case scenario, that adds up to about 16 hours a day. &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Who has time to work, let alone go grocery shopping, see the doctor, or volunteer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-3023680551461685778?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/3023680551461685778/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=3023680551461685778" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3023680551461685778" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3023680551461685778" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/01/doing-math.html" title="Doing The Math" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-3335695122466213665</id><published>2009-01-06T20:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T20:11:24.728-06:00</updated><title type="text">I'm On Break</title><content type="html">More soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-3335695122466213665?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/3335695122466213665/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=3335695122466213665" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3335695122466213665" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3335695122466213665" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-on-break.html" title="I'm On Break" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-1986584255061596949</id><published>2009-01-04T17:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T17:43:04.610-06:00</updated><title type="text">Relationships Make Us Happy</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so maybe you don't need to be a PhD to figure that one out, but then again, maybe you do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading the book by Harvard professor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tal&lt;/span&gt; Ben-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shahar&lt;/span&gt; called "Happier". This positive psychology guru shares with us the secrets to happiness - after boring us to death with definitions, hamburger analogies (seriously), and a reminder that money does not influence one's state of happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now to the chapter about happiness in relationships. Ironically, he talks about how to find happiness in relationships, but not about how to find meaningful relationships in the first place. Is this something that we all intrinsically know? Is it obvious to everyone but me? Perhaps its already a topic of other books?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;How do you seek and establish relationships - love or otherwise?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-1986584255061596949?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/1986584255061596949/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=1986584255061596949" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/1986584255061596949" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/1986584255061596949" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/01/relationships-make-us-happy.html" title="Relationships Make Us Happy" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-5870194244593918880</id><published>2009-01-01T15:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T15:51:04.109-06:00</updated><title type="text">Gene Variants Impact Antidepressants?</title><content type="html">I was reading a work publication for wellness put out by the Mayo Clinic. Dr. David &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mrazek&lt;/span&gt; describes a common problem for those suffering from depression - finding the right medication. An interesting observation: "Some people have gene variants that interfere with their ability to respond to certain antidepressants."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aha! An explanation for what patients and caretakers have known for a while. It sucks to wait to find the right medicine while you are sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The test is called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cytochrome&lt;/span&gt; P450 genotype analysis and it helps the pros understand how your body metabolizes certain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;. Certainly worth talking to your doctor about if you are in the "finding one" mode...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-5870194244593918880?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/5870194244593918880/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=5870194244593918880" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/5870194244593918880" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/5870194244593918880" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2009/01/gene-variants-impact-antidepressants.html" title="Gene Variants Impact Antidepressants?" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-3508438375286571715</id><published>2008-12-27T20:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T20:50:13.271-06:00</updated><title type="text">"Loving Someone with Bi-Polar Disorder"</title><content type="html">I read the subject book by Fast / Preston over the last couple of days. My parents had purchased the book to try and understand what I experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked at how hurtful and hard to love I am. As I read the book from the perspective of a family member or lover I realized why my dog is the only person who can put up with me for extended periods of time. Many of my behaviors that I had attributed to someone else, or to the situation, or to my "nature" were actually bi-polar characteristics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I am withdrawing to think, to contemplate, to understand. I have so much to learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-3508438375286571715?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/3508438375286571715/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=3508438375286571715" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3508438375286571715" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3508438375286571715" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/loving-someone-with-bi-polar-disorder.html" title="&quot;Loving Someone with Bi-Polar Disorder&quot;" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-3071391565668639335</id><published>2008-12-20T20:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T21:08:08.382-06:00</updated><title type="text">Winds of Change</title><content type="html">Outside my wind chimes are tinkling away in the blustery current; the other alto bars are more slow and melodic. I've read that the solstice is a time of death in order to bring new life. The snows, the winds, the bitter cold are all meant to bring about a "low" so that a true "high" can appear in the spring. Another analogy is dark to light - hence our candles at this dark time of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, it appears that my winter comes not with the seasons of Mother Nature; rather with the seasons of my brain and emotions. I cannot dispute the fact that the holidays often line up with a particularly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wintery&lt;/span&gt; part of my usual year. I have tried to rationalize it on occasion but this has been a rather fruitless activity; rather I must accept and move if I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Do emotions have their seasons as well? What drives them, if not Mother Nature?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-3071391565668639335?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/3071391565668639335/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=3071391565668639335" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3071391565668639335" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/3071391565668639335" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/winds-of-change.html" title="Winds of Change" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-5325471270959930247</id><published>2008-12-16T20:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T21:11:48.373-06:00</updated><title type="text">Is it normal?</title><content type="html">Yesterday I went to the gym. My mind has been acting strangely, so I thought a good workout would be valuable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Enya&lt;/span&gt; on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt;, working up a sweat on the treadmill, when I saw a scene playing out on the TVs broadcasting on the wall in front of me. I have investigated to find out it was the show "Sarah Connor Chronicles" on Fox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman was laying on the bathroom floor; she had cut her wrists and was barely conscious. A man broke in the room, swooped her up, and whispered tenderly in her ear. He held her wrists and appeared to promise to care for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought I was infatuated with the aspect of suicide. Rather, it was the rescue, the open vulnerability, the care that appealed to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that normal?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-5325471270959930247?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/5325471270959930247/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=5325471270959930247" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/5325471270959930247" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/5325471270959930247" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/is-it-normal.html" title="Is it normal?" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-8596265239479943940</id><published>2008-12-14T19:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T19:26:34.859-06:00</updated><title type="text">My Angels and Demons</title><content type="html">"Kill all my demons, and my angels might die too."  ~ Tennessee Williams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I watched the movie &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Transsiberian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, and the character Jessie threw out the above quote. While pounding it out on the elliptical machine at the gym today, I realized that what seemed to be a simple reminder to her husband to butt out of her smoking habit was really a hint at the comedy and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tragedy&lt;/span&gt; of the human &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;existence&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have often felt that minus my struggle with depression, I might cease to exist. It's probably not true, but because it is such a strong force it can overshadow anything else in my environment. The quote probably also reminds me of why we often hold onto things for way, way too long. It is easier to go with what we know than to let go, jump into the unknown, and see what happens. Probably leads us to trust and faith...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;What / who are your demons?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-8596265239479943940?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/8596265239479943940/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=8596265239479943940" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/8596265239479943940" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/8596265239479943940" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-angels-and-demons.html" title="My Angels and Demons" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-1001840698899038287</id><published>2008-12-12T21:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T21:55:35.078-06:00</updated><title type="text">Angels Among Us...</title><content type="html">No matter what your spiritual or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;religious&lt;/span&gt; persuasion, perhaps you might agree that there are moments in life when you know that someone is looking out for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've met a few angels in my life, and just "felt" others. The amazing butterfly affect has come to me directly sometimes - my anonymous friend who sends flowers at just the right moment, my sister's laugh to remind me that only one of us can be crazy at a time, my puppy dog. Tonight, I met an unexpected angel. A person who, at first glance, would appear to be unassuming, the type to fly under the radar. And yet through conversation he proved to be an angel in his own right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Who are your angels? Are you being still enough in your body and mind to appreciate them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-1001840698899038287?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/1001840698899038287/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=1001840698899038287" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/1001840698899038287" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/1001840698899038287" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/angels-among-us.html" title="Angels Among Us..." /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-2573907251601813982</id><published>2008-12-07T17:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T18:03:47.667-06:00</updated><title type="text">Woo Hoo! My 100th Post!</title><content type="html">***Spoiler Alert***&lt;br /&gt;"The Boy in the Striped Pajamas"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. That movie caught me and held me. And the twist at the end - amazing. It was a beautiful illustration of how a child's mind can open doors, open minds, and open eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In yoga, and in other Eastern practices, we strive to achieve a child's mind. Being completely in the present, forgiving totally, and taking each and every experience and person at face value. What a wonderful gift to present oneself free and clear on a daily basis. Even more important than the lesson of a child's mind, was that of true friendship. To go all the way, trusting in one's own heart, holding hands the whole way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-2573907251601813982?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/2573907251601813982/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=2573907251601813982" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/2573907251601813982" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/2573907251601813982" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/woo-hoo-my-100th-post.html" title="Woo Hoo! My 100th Post!" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-264006001747106653</id><published>2008-12-05T21:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T21:24:00.343-06:00</updated><title type="text">Mourning the Non-Existant</title><content type="html">During my meditation today my mind led me to the holes - the "missing" places, spots, and corners where a void had formed. Over time, I hope to fill the holes with self awareness and joy. But the time has not yet come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a hole where my marriage used to be. There is another alcove for the loss of some childhood happiness. A wee spot reminds me constantly that my family is not near me. My illness has spaces throughout, woven near some of the other places and seemingly spreading to encroach on energetic places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chi of my mind is indeed stuck and captured. Perhaps if I apply the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;feng&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shui&lt;/span&gt; principles (or a parallel) to my brain as I have to key spaces in my home...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-264006001747106653?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/264006001747106653/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=264006001747106653" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/264006001747106653" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/264006001747106653" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/mourning-non-existant.html" title="Mourning the Non-Existant" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-6690791436460857196</id><published>2008-12-03T20:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T20:17:47.359-06:00</updated><title type="text">"Old" News on Dying Young?</title><content type="html">At lunch I like to scan the web for a bit of news. I can't watch TV because I don't get to pick what story comes next.  :-)  While surfing today I came across an article by Kate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Torgovnick&lt;/span&gt; for Time. As it turns out, this news has been around for a while, but it is new to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wrote about a study published a couple of years ago which asserts that those with serious mental illness die an average of 25 years earlier then the general population. My goodness! Really? Here's the link so you can read more: &lt;a href="http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1863220,00.html"&gt;http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1863220,00.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quote that bothered me quite particularly was "...people with serious mental illness tend to be low on the socioeconomic totem pole...." Ouch. I guess the good side of news articles like this is that awareness is raised in the general population and among medical professionals. A girl can dream, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I think I need to hit the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-6690791436460857196?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/6690791436460857196/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=6690791436460857196" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/6690791436460857196" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/6690791436460857196" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/old-news-on-dying-young.html" title="&quot;Old&quot; News on Dying Young?" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1671076095910658360.post-5988730970986980419</id><published>2008-12-01T20:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T20:29:12.704-06:00</updated><title type="text">My Thanks Giving List</title><content type="html">&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;My dog, who continues to bring me joy in her old age&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For the person who sends me flowers without signing, at just the right moments&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;SSA, who never fail to tell me they love me and show it in ways only they can&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Football on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;HD&lt;/span&gt; TV, fire in the fireplace, and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;brewski&lt;/span&gt; in my hand&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My "Charlie Brown" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; tree filled with hideous but handmade ornaments&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sitcoms&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chanel No. 5&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Power of prayer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Good work, good pay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Friends and family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1671076095910658360-5988730970986980419?l=thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/feeds/5988730970986980419/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1671076095910658360&amp;postID=5988730970986980419" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/5988730970986980419" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1671076095910658360/posts/default/5988730970986980419" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thiscrazyidea.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-thanks-giving-list.html" title="My Thanks Giving List" /><author><name>Carrie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09443581232241490075</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lOvqjl4fp50/SQ5WuUZzUkI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ksMfik2JpAI/S220/avatar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>

