I usually share the song for this episode at the end, but I am going to switch things up today to help get us on the same page before we get into it. So before you keep going with this, please listen to the song Like Water, Like Earth by Christa Couture and then come back to me.

We fight to “keep it together” because we’re so terrified of falling apart. What will other people think? What will this mean for us? But what is this thing that we’re terrified of? What if by allowing ourselves to fall apart we’re not actually breaking – but unfolding?

We are constantly being bombarded with questions that divide us, especially with social media and traditional media.

But when it comes to things like human rights, religious beliefs and our freedom – do we have to pick a side?

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m standing on a small stage in a pub holding a bass guitar singing backup on a Keith Urban song with a small group of musicians from the band that I’m in. The crowd is into it, they’re singing along and dancing – everyone, including us, are having a good time.

I am sitting at the piano in my church, it’s the middle of the service and there are some people being brought up to the front of the church who want to become catholic.

I am sitting on his couch, emotionally exhausted, when I hear myself say the words ‘I can’t be your cheerleader anymore.’

I always listen to the song for the episode as I’m writing it just to really allow myself to go back to the emotional place that I’m writing from. I only had to think about the song Little Miss by Sugarland and the ugly crying had already started, but in such a healing, cathartic way.

I woke up in the middle of the night, completely drenched in sweat and feeling like I could throw up. It was a few months into the COVID 19 pandemic and I just had one of the most intense PTSD flashback dreams that I’ve ever had.

I’m sitting in a doctor’s office trying to breathe slowly enough to hold back the panic attack that is brewing under the surface. Doctor’s haven’t always made me feel anxious, I mean I used to work with them in the ICU. But over the past four years of having a chronic illness and disability, I’ve come to dread medical appointments.