In case there’s some confusion about the cookies, I wasn’t always the St. Louis Healthy Living Examiner, a freelance contributor for the Examiner.com since 2009. I was also a mother (my greatest role), an advocate/trainer working in a domestic violence shelter, and a blogger. Right now, I’m in transition: Switching platforms, but slightly…
The name of my blogging site was (and still is): “What…cookies again?“ Before you abandon me (this post), the title does have a meaning and it has absolutely nothing to do with baking:
It was all the side writing, and the few extra pennies that came with it, that allowed me to escape from the things I continued to see and hear while working in a domestic violence shelter… The writing allowed me to remain focused, relevant and efficient.
Call me crazy, but I’ll say it was definitely the coffee, vitamins (honestly, gallons of caffeine and B12), and a great support system that allowed me to balance life while I spent thousands of hours away from home. Away…all hours of the day and night working in a confidential location. Yes, even on Christmas.
There are a lot of shelters open 24/7/365; someone has to be there.
It was, I’m sure, divine intervention (call it faith, spirituality or whatever you believe) that allowed me to remain human, humble and in the mode of compassion. Divine intervention kept me from falling apart at the seams and from drowning in a sea of secondary trauma.
But about the cookies: “…life has a way of re-hashing itself. If you took your favorite homemade cookies to last month’s office potluck, several months later you’ll take them again. No use reinventing the wheel and wasting a good recipe.“
And cookies? As we all know, cookies (e.g., life’s best lessons, stories shared across all divides, hope beyond realms that seem impossible, etc.) are not just for potlucks.