Every (stressful Thought) Is A Variation On

I Was Full Of Rage. My Self-esteem Was So Low That I Actually Slept On The Floor Every Night, Because I Didn't Believe I Deserved A Bed To Sleep In.

Judge Your Neighbor, Write It Down. Ask Four Questions, Turn It Around.

Who Would You Be If You Didn't Believe This Lie?

When You Become A Lover Of What Is, The War Is Over.

One Morning As I Lay Sleeping On The Floor, A Cockroach Crawled Over My Foot. And I Opened My Eyes Out Of This Dead Sleep - About A 43-year Sleep - And In Place Of All That Darkness Was A Joy That I Can't Describe.