From day one, I knew that it was going to be a different kind of mindfulness class. But I was ready. I could handle this. I had years of teaching teens under my belt, a number of which were in inner-city schools. But I was an experienced-enough teacher to know that I was going to have to be on my toes--the whole time.
Like many parents, I sometimes feel overworked and under appreciated. A golden opportunity presented itself today, and I did not hesitate to take action. My daughter Mabel asked for my help. She was leaving for a rehearsal and needed to respond to a couple of time sensitive emails. When she handed me her laptop she handed me the means of reparation.
As women, we aren't born feeling the same pressures that often plague our young adult and adult lives. We didn't inherently feel guilty for ordering cheese fries over a side-salad or for being ruthlessly stubborn about what we want and believe in. We wore our tangly hair proudly down our backs and knees skinned up from way too many adventures.