A friend of mine once said that this isn't for the faint of heart. No, it probably isn't...

I suffered childhood trauma, but grew up in a loving, middle-class household. Other than a little hiccup in eighth  grade, my life shouldn't have been any different than anyone else. In many respects I suppose it isn't.

Somewhere around 2007 I was diagnosed with Dysthymia, a low lying but chronic form of depression. In essence, it meant that I would always live at a level of contentment just slightly lower than someone else. For the most part the diagnosis was a relief. It gave me something to rally around, something tangible to fight against. But of course there's a bit of me under the surface, that silent bit that holds so much sway, that figures I'm simply flawed.

So in light of all of this, I think a lot. I wonder about ways to fix myself. I wonder about what I can do to be a better person. I wonder how I can place myself into a world that feels foreign to me, how I can convince others that I'm just like them. I question why I should get out of bed.

I question why I should get out of bed.

And that's the point of 20 More Minutes. This practice started for me a number of years ago. Even on my best days, sometimes I simply don't feel like doing anything. I should be running. I should be riding. I should be writing. These three activities are close to my heart, I care about them and they bring me fantastic amounts of joy. I know I'm being good to myself when I do them, and since I live in amazing mountain country, every time I get outside into the forests and the mountains I get a chance to reset myself, to erase the mire of whatever else I'm dealing with.

Start by taking 20 minutes out of your day. Leave your phone at the office or at home, and do something for yourself.

That's why you should get out of bed.

The Untitled Document

Oct 5, 2019 | 0 Comments

Teneya and Billy in bed in the morning, Teneya with her leg draped across those of Billy and her foot tucking around his ankle, moving softly over his feet and her head on his shoulder and her fingertips spinning through the hair on his chest, lowering to stroke his stomach. Her body is young and…

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A Story From a Friend, millionth draft

Sep 18, 2019 | 0 Comments

The skin between my toes has disintegrated, raw and stinging as sweat and miles of movement rub them against one another. The cold too, the cold doesn’t help. Running through the snow is slow and as it continues to fall so the slowness will grow. But this can’t wait so I hurry. When Jim first…

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In the Morning

Aug 24, 2019 | 0 Comments

Billy opened the sliding screen door and the young dog bolted out and turned and stood waiting. The old dog was the one Billy had on a leash so that it’s knee could heal, and they stepped gingerly out of the door and onto the earth and started walking around the house and up into…

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