I was never a YouTube watcher. It may be due to an undiagnosed case of ADD. Sitting and watching videos makes my head cycle thinking about "Did I leave a dirty fork in the sink?" "I need to sort my graphic t's into colors and messages." It's true. There is an endless suffocating loop in my head of next, next, next, sit the fuck still.
I started a YouTube Channel.
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The 9/11 Tribute Museum was not a collection of things. Things from that day do tell a story. The viewer needs to absorb that thing in order to learn and appreciate its value and meaning. They have to work from their knowledge, context, and being to find meaning. That's only a partial understanding of 9/11 and one that is subject to variations of understanding. Our context shapes what we learn when we're not engaged with others.
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If this was a Venn it's a Venn of two circles overlapping greatly. One circle was a widowed man of a certain age alone without meaning and purpose. The other circle was the grief community, my grief journey/work, and my desire to bring meaning to my loss and others loss.
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Oystering is the word of moment. Pull back but not surrender my kindness to others just to myself.
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Not a lot matters yet, these things do here and now and into the future. Grandparents and grief. Lost pregnancy and community. Mental health support for teens. Mental health first aid. Suicide. Bullying. Kindness! Working parents struggle with children and mental health.
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In a week I share many links and posts. I thought I would put a weeks worth on a single link and just stay in my lane.
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Clearly I've drank deeply from the realm of grief. I've imbued past moments and memories into my being, into my current self. I've said and know that the wound of grief has let light in.
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When Donna died I flayed at finding meaning and purpose. I never gave up trying. At this moment it seems that I've lost agency too. Agency over myself and all that I am doing with regard to my work/journey. A journey of musings without witnesses.
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Valentines Day is Donna's birthday. I sort of made a promise that I would not harsh anyone V-Day fun, shares, and PDA's with my postings about the swirling emotions of her not being here for me to gift the hell out of her.
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I sit in my ersatz solitary confinement trying to ferret out meaning and purpose. Poking my snout into holes seeking the scent of a voice that I can harvest to resonate with others as Abbey has. There are many ghosts and just the me of me that places a Jersey Barricade in my path.
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The shells and stones were whole at one time. Complete in their beauty and shape. They had purpose a reason to be where they were in the ocean. They held agency and gave agency. They existed as a whole in and of themselves without need to be connected nor engaged. They were complete and self actualized.
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The reality that solitary’s journey is not free of pain and suffering. Freedom, liberation, and peace runs through suffering. “The self is the vehicle, that boat that takes us from loneliness to aloneness—that takes us on the journey to solitude.”
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Revisiting previous posts that remain valid, important, and meaningful today for those of us on a grief journey.
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I’ve been writing about my loss and my emotional response to among a bunch of other pieces and posts. I am taking a look back because perspective is everything.
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The goal of SchoolPulse is to boost the emotional wellbeing , individual awareness, and social competency of every student. This is done by texting them videos, podcasts, surveys, memes, SEL focused message a few times a week. Texting works. We know that especially with teens.
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“We do not know how long we have to be lonely or isolated, or how severe this must be for us to have lasting negative consequences.” Senate Special Committee on Aging June 2020
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We must to tell our stories not only for our own wellbeing and knowledge. We must share our stories to help others facing grief and mourning during and beyond our pandemic reality.
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As the world began to slowly opened up from the devastation of our collective pandemic life it became crystal clear the crushing effect of my isolation and grief for 16 months. I could not help to think this is similar to being boiled like a frog on a low simmer. Finally, I was done. Skin as raw as my emotions. My drive to create, build, and do was simply floating lifeless in the pot. Simmering.
Random acts of discovery or perhaps a divine intervention. A podcast that I am very fond of To The Best of Our Knowledge appeared in my peripheral life .
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5 Types of Grief, The Impact of Grief, The Pandemic and Teens Mental Health, Teens anxiety and returning to normal, and Learning to Live Without a Loved One. A look at these interesting and valuable articles.
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Coming from the world of medical education and clinical trials I tend to lean into long-term outcomes that are durable, meaning someone is supported over time with purpose and meaning. Crisis intervention saves lives and nothing is more important. SchoolPulse can save lives and help support lives over time.
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