Owning Pink Bloggers

When the rain falls, remember that the sun will always shine again. There might even be a rainbow.

feel

Danielle LaPorte's picture

The Perils Of Justifying Yourself

Me, you, or someone you know:

“I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m going to …”

Fill in the blank: Quit, sell it, leave, cancel, give it away, walk, resign.

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Lone Morch's picture

Stop Posing. Start Living.

At photo shoots, women sometimes tiptoe about waiting for me to guide them and micromanage their every move; their heads, hands, how to hold their shoulders and position their feet. Before long, they’ve become awkward and soulless.

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Lissa Rankin's picture

How To Find Your Calling

What are you here on this earth to do?

How will the world be better because you were in it?

What legacy do you hope to leave behind?

What are you called to do with this one wild and precious life?

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Danielle LaPorte's picture

Positive Procrastination: Getting Stuff Done, Intuitively

positive procrastination

I relish a good organizational system as much as creative freedom. The answer for me (and maybe for you) is structured flow.

Flow baby, flow

1. Positive procrastination...all timing is divine ... all of it. I’m not a procrastinator, by any stretch. But my habit of “holding off” on certain things used to confuse me, since I’m such a wham-shazam activator on most things. I finally realized my seeming neglect of some things actually was a deeper inkling of right timing. If something didn’t really “feel” like a priority (despite logic and deadlines), it probably needed to wait on my clear will or that of providence. I am always amazed at what can happen when you wait: things often take care of them selves or conditions improve in ways that make doing what needs to be so much more effective.

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Lissa Rankin's picture

Letting Go When Things Go Wrong

This week, I had some fabulous news, followed very shortly afterwards by some devastating news. You see, my first book Encaustic Art: The Complete Guide To Creating Fine Art With Wax appeared in the mail, hot off the presses. After six years of work (six years!) I finally held it in my hands, petting it, admiring it, and staring at it with a goofy grin like it was a newborn infant.

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