It feels as though lately I have been doing a whole lot of nothing. Not really by choice, but by the dictations of the slow life of disability. Truth be told, doing nothing is hard on me. I am my own worst critic! My mind is on fire with things I'd like to do and creative possibilities to pursue during these times. But day in and day out it seems like all I manage to accomplish is the struggle to get house chores done, workouts completed, and health requirements finished that take way to much time out of my life. It feels like a never ending perpetuation of liminality! Whenever these seasons seem to hit me, I begin the internal struggle of judging my failures in self expectations. No matter how hard I try to keep up the workout routine, my gut keeps sticking out like a basketball waiting to give birth. The collection of writing projects and ideas still sitting in my draft folder reminding me why I will never be able to publish a book despite...