I think I was raised by hippies. My parents were, and still are, very free spirited. I learned to be creative from my dad. He would always fix stuff up around the house with whatever scrap material he had. I learned from him that limitations breed creativity. I learned immense compassion from my mother. Always telling me to help out those who need it. Though in recent years I've found that mentality can wear you pretty thin, especially if someone takes advantage of your kindness. I still hold the lessons they taught me close to my heart.

I don't really have a point to this journal, I just wanted to share some thoughts. I know not everybody's experiences are this pleasant and some people very close to me just didn't get that opportunity and I greatly sympathize with them, and with you if you also went through some rough stuff. I've seen that those wounds do heal eventually with the right kind of care.

I read recently an analogy that your mind/body/spirit is a garden that from the ages of 0-18 (or whatever age you move out, separate from your family, etc) and your family and friends tend to your garden the way they think to do so. It could end up well nourished or a desert. It could have some nice beautiful plants or be filled with thorns. But once you have the opportunity to, you plant what you want in it. You nourish it the way you need. You rip up the weeds that no longer serve your purposes. Make it uniquely yours.