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Today I want to remember the Americans who have fought for our freedoms.

Not only the Military.

Today I want to remember:

The Protestors. The Union Members. The Picketers. The Marchers. The Glass Ceilings Breakers. The Strikers.

Today I am grateful for all of the Americans who have stood up to corrupt systems in our Nation and demanded the Freedom and rights they deserved.

Today I want to remember those who exercised their right to protest an unfair government.

Or unfair working conditions and evil corporate fat cats.

Today let’s remember:

The May Day Parade. The Coal Strike of 1902. The Southwest Railroad Strike. The Dearborn Hunger March. The Textile Workers Strike. The Harlan County War. The Birmingham March. The National March on Washington. the US Postal Workers Strike. The Stonewall Riots. Fountain House. The Million Man March. The Los Angeles Riots. Ferguson. Standing Rock. The Women’s March. The March for Our Lives. The March for Science.

Sojourner Truth. Mother Jones. The “Rednecks”. The Suffragist. Francis Perkins. Lucy Parsons. Martin Luther King. Rosa Parks. Malcolm X. Ruby Bridges. Kent State. SANE. MADD. Occupy Wall Street. Black Lives Matter. Times Up. Emma Gonzalez.

And all the other groups and unnamed/forgotten individuals who put themselves in harm's way to fight for the rights we deserve.

Freedom isn’t free.

*Sometimes yes that will mean war and the lives lost protecting America*

Sometimes, however, it means using your voice to stand up against the wrongs that our own country is allowing or committing. Freedom then comes at the price of being blacklisted, rubber bullets, tear gas, lives lost, and long nights spent in jail. Do not forget the cost it took to get to where we are today. Even when it feels like we have so far left to go.

Remember protest is patriotic. It’s the very freedom our Founding Fathers wanted to ensure we had when they wrote the Bill of Rights. Even if we have used those rights to grant more freedoms then they ever anticipated. Expanding and evolving the concept of freedom to reach more than just rich, white men.

Protesting is the very reason America exists.

Never forget those who have fought for our rights.

Never forget that you yourself hold this same power.

This Fourth of July educate yourself on the movements, marches, and protests that it took to make America the nation we know today. Then think about the ways you can use your voice to continue to improve America and make it a place we can all be proud to call home. A place where even the most marginalized groups can feel free.

Happy Fourth of July.

Let Freedom Ring.

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— Sarah Russell, If I Had Three Lives, after “Melbourne” by the Whitlams (via lunamonchtuna)

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Just a little happy Mushroom guy for your Saturday.

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Enjoying this beautiful November.

Wallowing in gratitude for the beautiful life I’ve built and keep building.

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Wishing earth a relaxing weekend

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I’ve been thinking about this post for awhile. Sitting on the other-side of the goals I mentioned here gives me a new perspective I couldn’t have had before. So today I came back to find it and add one thing:

It can get better. It does get better. You find tools and methods to balance out your brain. I’ve learned to meditate and heal from the programming that capitalism, religion, trauma, and society placed there.

I’ve learned how to sit with my feelings and allow them to rise up and out of my body.

I’ve found the broken parts of me hidden inside and helped them heal all while learning how to balance even the scary things with love.

When my life shifted from survival to peace, I crashed from burnout. With no choice but to learn how to care for myself more. How to regulate in healthy ways. How to be gentle with myself and find gratitude even on the days I stay in bed.

My depression will always come and go but I now see it as a friend. Reminding me to be gentle with myself, to slow down, rest and go slow. These cycles are a part of my life and learning to love myself no matter the season is the key.

Everything doesn’t always have to be about chasing a high. Sometimes we find the greatest blessings from sitting with our pain and allowing it to be our teacher about what needs to change and where in life we just need to let go.

Just in case you needed it here is a little hope that one day you too can find the peace and time to heal.

The worst part about depression is that it will always follow me through life.

Like a shadow I can’t shake.

Even after I graduate school.

After we move and get a better house.

When I get a new car.

Up my credit.

Get married.

Have another kid.

Travel the world.

No matter the drugs.

The food.

The carnival rides and mountain peaks.

…

I read a thing about Anthony Bourdain that really hit me hard.

Something a long the lines of dopamine being a drug and life experiences hits.

Something about how being depressed makes it harder to feel that natural high.

So you have to find new more intense ways to feel it.

By working your ass off towards your dreams.

Thinking success is the cure.

Taking drugs for a quick burst of relief.

Having a family to feel the void never having one left you with.

Bigger.

Better.

Harder.

You just want to feel something.

Anything except the constant fucking boredom in your head.

Sometimes you hurt yourself.

Scream, cut, shout, shake or

Drink..and drink… and drink

….

Today I am okay

Dull

Bored

Exhausted by it all

But okay nonetheless

I’m here and so glad to still be alive.

Still fighting back.

Still pushing on.

Fighting for my light.

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my dad likes to call the stretches of time where you’re not creating “dreaming periods” and says that they’re meant to allow you to absorb all of the beauty, life, and inspiration from the things around you so that when you’re able to create again, you will have fanned your spark back into a flame. sometimes its hard to see those moments as anything but stagnation, but he always says that they’re natural and healthy and needed—things that should be embraced rather than feared.

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Let's lie on the moss floor and gaze at the constellations while sharing random Greek mythology stories.

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Oh, to be a litlle kid living in a small, unknown and forgotten by time town, running barefoot through the ancient forest that is feared and worshiped by the local with dry leaves in my hair; carrying a handmade basket full of wildberries and mushrooms and herbs and twigs and moss... taking all of them to my secret garden just to find a strange forest creature there, admiring my flowers. It becomes my only and trully best friend and I go live with them into the heart of the woods never to be found again, becoming a local legend to the townspeople.

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If you don't like this world – create your own

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