If you stay lost in the wild long enough, you'll find yourself.
I let the black ink from a cheap ballpoint pen scratch the date on the off-white pages of my brand-new diary. It was October 20, 2001, and within the same sentence of me mentioning my 11th birthday which occurred three days before, I spoke about the attacks that occurred on 9/11.
I went to see a therapist about my anxiety, and it helped. I started rolling out my yoga mat again and practicing mindfulness meditation. I began paying closer attention to the advice from people I trusted, and while I worked to help educate others and help uplift the voices of the minority, I also worked on myself.
Jazzed About Stuff 