Choosing to Do the Hoodoo

I've been thinking a lot over the past two years, mostly to myself, about how much I've been struggling religiously or spiritually, and how much I've been fighting against some inner change. I realize I've been in conflict with myself for pretty much all of the ten years I've been practicing witchcraft, as well as attempting to fit into any number of Pagan traditions. I've researched and gone through motions of Wicca, Druidry, Celtic Recon, Thelema, some eclectic version of Egyptian religion. I kept looking and trying because I was holding so hard onto what had developed into my identity as a religious, Pagan person. I was willing to accept anything in order to be a religious person, but the whole time, I was forcing it. And my lack of progress in these traditions was evident. My identity is changing and I am embracing it, because now I'm really beginning to understand what everyone else is talking about when they say, "It just feels right."

My makeup for opening ritual at last week's Hoodoo Fest to invite in the Ancestors.

I'm no longer a religious person. I don't believe the gods exist as anything other than archetypes. I don't believe in karma, though that's sort of old news. I'm losing faith everyday in the occurrence reincarnation. I no longer view the elements as individual, conscious energies. I'm basically an atheist.

But I still consider myself a spiritual person, because I do hold beliefs in things that aren't directly observable, things that haven't been explained (or accepted) by science. I believe there is a truth to energy manipulation. There is truth in being able to sense and respond to energy that is outside of your own. Energies that belong to the air and the soil and the plants, ponds, rivers, lightning, stones, the moon, animals, the dead. I believe that land spirits are a real thing, they are unique to their own ecosystems, and that we can learn about them by spending time in our environments, paying attention to what we feel when we're there. And I think it's because that I believe in these things that I don't need the religion anymore.

Probably the biggest influence on this personal change entered my life two years ago, when my church began its West Kentucky Hoodoo Rootworker Heritage Festival. Our third consecutive Hoodoo Fest just ended last week and each time I attend, I learn and become even more confident in leaving religion behind to pursue a craft-like approach to spirituality that is rooted in the practices of energy manipulation (magic) and ancestor reverence. And these practices also have a different quality that captivates me more than any others ever have: they're American.

One of the biggest things I've been struggling with for the last decade is that I don't know how to practice something that is so culturally-involved when I myself am not a part of that culture. Yes, my ancestors came from Ireland and England and Prussia, but I didn't. Even having lived in Europe, attending a British school, studying abroad in England, visiting Ireland, hanging out in Germany every weekend, I'm not Irish or English or German. I am American, and before I knew what hoodoo was, it seemed like there was no practice of which that I was ever going to feel truly a part. I might not be a native of the Carolinas or grew up in a household with a grandma who sprinkled brick dust and had superstitions about how to store a broom, but I don't think that matters. Since I've began my own personal research and practice, and since I've been attending hoodoo-focused workshops every year at my church, I've enjoyed success and improvement in my spiritual life that I feel I was always missing out on before. When I dress candles and write petition papers and create sachets, I feel like I'm participating in something that works and enriches my life, rather than something frustrating and discouraging.

I'm even shying away from what I called European witchcraft. There is a feeling of so much freedom in Hoodoo when my materials are just yarn, salt, paper, herbs (among other very easy to find or make ingredients). No need for wands and athamés and censers and grand gestures. Hoodoo is the kind of craft that I can practice sitting on my deck listening to the birds, wrapping string around a little piece of paper. I don't have to be chanting and raising my arms and dancing around an altar at midnight. It's a relief.

And it's also relieving to understand and come to terms with how my beliefs are evolving. I think there's a lot of pressure in the Pagan community to be a polytheist, and to adhere to a karmic worldview, and to never harm anyone or anything, even in self defense. There's a stark dichotomy between "black/dark" and "white" witchcraft that frankly, I hate. It's always been my opinion that overall, Neo-Paganism should draw its spiritual inspiration from nature and it just drives me crazy when Pagans devise all these ethical constructs and fantastic beliefs that have nothing connecting them to the natural world. Hoodoo seems so different in the still early stages of my practice because it is directly connected to the land and the community in which I live. The rainwater I collect comes from my backyard. My petition paper comes from local thrift store packaging that wraps the many jars I also purchase there. The more I learn about this craft, the more I try to use materials that I can walk outside of my house and find right in my yard. I want to personally make my materials as much as I can, like when I made my own Florida Water. Next, I'd like to make my own rose water, and try my hand at my own candles and oils.

Hoodoo to me represents a practice of self-accountability, responsibility, and creativity. It provides so many opportunities for an individual to experience self-growth through trial and error and learning at one's own pace, along with practicing traditional methods. Specifically to me, it allows me to figure out my own ethics and beliefs without the requirement of belief in gods and karma and all the other things that hang me up about other spiritual/religious systems. But it's flexible enough that many practitioners of it (at least most of the people I've met), do approach it from a religious point of view. Some even identify as Christian or at least work the magic within a Christian context, using psalms, calling on Mary and Jesus. It's that flexibility that really makes hoodoo a true craft to me, not just a spiritual activity. From all I've learned and done so far, it's not a meditate-y, prayerful, fluffy bunny, unconditional love and peace type of spirituality. And I need that because nature and life and my own experience are sometimes rarely those things. I need a practice that is grounded in the type of reality that I'm looking at everyday. I don't want a religion or a spirituality for which I have to set time aside, or get into the right (somewhat altered) mindset to participate, or ignore my education as a scientist, or any other ways of removing myself from this world. I'm looking for a spirituality that isn't supernatural, but is still mysterious, with concepts and skills to learn throughout my life.

I believe ultimately that spirituality should be about enriching one's life in the present. I also believe that the enrichment should be driven by oneself, through study, active practice, learning from mistakes and remembering successes for next time. The practice of hoodoo allows these things to happen for the individual, for me, and it's because of that that I don't think I'll be looking back at much of anything else as I move forward. The deeper I go into the study and practice of hoodoo, the farther away these inner conflicts about gods and religion and fitting in with other Neo-Pagans become. This system of American folk magic makes me feel like I know what home is. And home to me is not worshipping deities and drawing down the moon and turning the other cheek until there's nothing left because performing a curse is "wrong." Home is reading and coffee and little red bags filled with lodestones and herbs, enjoying a breeze, sitting with friends, sprinkling salt in the corners of the house, cooking and beer and laughter. Religion or spirituality should not be separated from everyday life, and it just feels right to finally be experiencing them together.

A New Venture: Henna Hair Dye and Strand Testing

My hair has definitely been on a really crazy journey (it's had more adventures than I have)! I've worn many different cuts and styles and have been dying it all different colors since I was in 8th grade. But along the way, my hair experienced a lot of damage. I got really sick of having short, brittle hair that broke easily. I stopped box-dying altogether, and tried henna hair dye for the first time, specifically this product from Lush. I have been a long time Lush customer and was so excited to try their hair dyes when they came out with them, but I was completely dismayed when their henna dye damaged my hair just like a box dye. So I gave up on dying my hair myself and started going to a salon.

Then, one day earlier this year, I heard my friend Alice talking talking about the henna hair dye she uses herself. She has gorgeous, long, healthy, red hair:

Photo posted with her permission. ♥

I asked her where she gets her henna hair dye from and she explained that she uses body art quality henna from Mehandi. I immediately started doing research (have been doing so since then), and have now decided to try out this henna hair dye for myself. I ordered a 3 gram sample and it arrived in the mail yesterday. I've recently shaved part of my head and I kept some strands from that in order to do a strand test. Here is my original hair:

I could seriously use a trim for split-ends, but this is the longest and healthiest it's been in years. This is the also the un-washed, un-styled, natural texture.

I took photos in the sunlight to try to show the truest color I could in the camera.

After getting some "fresh" locks of hair to use for the dye test, I prepared the henna:

It seems the most common acidic liquid used is lemon juice, but Alice gave me the tip that using orange juice makes her hair less dry. My hair can be prone to really drying out, so I opted to use orange juice as well. In my research, I've seen several warnings against using coffee or vinegar (acetic acid).

At this point, the henna is now ready to be used! Some people really don't like the smell of henna, but I like it quite a lot. It's kind of grassy and soil-smelling, and the orange juice gives it a bit of a sweet fragrance too. I've seen some articles that talk about other oils that can be added to henna to improve the smell, but I've only seen people using henna for body art doing this. I wouldn't ever add anything to the henna for use as a hair dye, but that's just me. If you really hate the smell though, some of the Mehandi info pages say you can add powdered ginger and/or cardamom to the mixture.

I know this picture looks weird and maybe gross...it's kind of hard to make it not look that way.

You'll want to cover the hair locks (or your entire head) with plastic wrap in order to keep the henna moist and warm. This will keep things a little less messy and will also improve the color of the dye. For my test strands, I decided to let it sit for 3 hours to see what the middle ground of time would yield. I left some space at the ends of each hair lock in order to have a comparison of colors when finished. Here is what the henna looked like in my hair locks after it was washed out and dried:

Successful, I think! but...I'm not finished yet.

So, I love red hair and I think Alice's above looks absolutely amazing, but for all the years I've been dying my hair different colors, I always eventually go back to black. It's the color I feel most comfortable with and most like myself in, but I don't want to keep paying for a salon to dye my hair black with chemicals. The original Lush henna dye that I used had indigo added to it to make it black hair dye, but through my research, I've learned the proper way to dye hair black naturally is first with henna, and then again with indigo. So after washing the henna out and allowing the hair to dry, it's time to mix up the indigo dye:

The big difference between dying with henna and dying with indigo is the time. First of all, do not let the indigo set out after it's mixed! Henna needs that time over night for the dye to release, but indigo needs to be used immediately after it is mixed, and leftovers cannot be used. Wait until you are totally ready to dye your hair with indigo before mixing it. Then, the same procedure is followed as with henna, and the plastic wrap is used again to keep it neat, moist, and warm.

The look of the indigo can be a little alarming at first because it's so green, but the longer it is left out in the air, the more it oxidizes and changes to a dark, blue-black color. Note that while henna needs to stay in the hair for 2-4 hours, indigo is only left in for 1 hour. Indigo also smells a lot different than henna. I wouldn't say it's an unpleasant smell, but it's not as nice as the henna. It sort of smells like peas or celery powder. According to Mehandi, ginger/cardamom can also be added to indigo to improve the smell if desired.

After the indigo sat in my hair locks for an hour, I washed them out and let them air dry. Here are the final results:

I'm not completely blown away by the indigo. It is definitely dark, but not as dark as I was hoping. However, all of the information I've read repeats that although it may have a slightly greenish hue to it at first, over 1-2 days following application, the indigo dye will oxidize further and mature into a deep blue-black (and there are lots of photos of beautiful black hair). So I'm going to keep an eye on the hair strands and see how the color changes.

Besides that, I'm very happy with how this test went. The indigo made the strands feel a little dry, but I was expecting that. I didn't feel, however, any of the type of elastic feeling that hair gets after being heavily damaged by box dye. Even the original Lush henna dye I tried gave my hair that icky, stretchy feeling and caused a lot of breakage. I didn't notice anything like that kind of damage during this test, so if I'm happy with how the indigo color looks over the next two days, I will definitely be using Mehandi henna on my hair. I've gone through and calculated how expensive I think it will be the first time around, and if I'm correct, I'm expecting between $62-$70. That might seem like a lot, but I was paying more at the salon (around $80) for dye that fades fast and is full of harsh chemicals. I definitely don't want that for my hair anymore, so the price to me is worth it.

I'm really excited about this new venture and I will be updating with how it goes for my whole head of hair. I'm so grateful to Alice for her recommendation, and if people have questions about henna hair dye and henna in general, I would, along with Alice, recommend the Mehandi site as well as far as information goes. It's very thorough and easy to understand, with tons of free e-books, a forum, tutorials, and more. ♡

Enjoying Exercise

I think one of the things that makes sticking to an exercise plan difficult is the feeling of obligation and the lack of excitement. But not at first -- I do it all the time. I'm completely committed for a week or two, waking up early, making time, doing cardio, weight-lifting, ab work outs, etc. Sometimes, I go over to the gym and use the machines there. Other times, I stay at home and do a P90X routine. Every day I look forward to that time I make for myself, but after those 10 days or so, my enthusiasm starts to wane because I'm not actually enjoying my workouts. They are something I've made room for by taking away a different activity that I do like. If you go about exercising in this way, you'll never have a sustainable daily practice. At least, that's what I believe.

So I've been trying something different. I'm taking activities that I already enjoy and don't put into the exercise/working out category and I'm upping them so that they are more physically challenging. But I'm still holding onto what the original activity entails so that I can keep having fun with it. For example:

I love walking Sól. I get to bond with my dog and see him having fun, I get to explore the neighborhood where I live. I get to enjoy nature, the nice breeze, and I always feel better when I come home from a walk because I've done something that makes me and my dog happy. So instead of giving up that time that I love, I can change it in order to get even more benefits. I increase my time to walking for at least 30 minutes, but if I can, to go for an hour. I walk at a faster pace, and I take routes that have more hills. When I have a little bit more money, I would like to get some ankle weights as well as a pedometer to track my distance. But besides these few changes, my walks with Sól are the same. It doesn't seem like much, but mentally it goes a long way in order to keep yourself enthusiastic about becoming and staying more active.

And just because it's exercise doesn't mean I can't bring my camera along to get a few shots of the things I appreciate while I'm walking around town:

My absolute favorite house in town. I've never seen a witchier-looking manor. This is a total dream house for me.

A beautiful park that is about 30 minutes on foot away from me.  It's a very relaxing area.

I love seeing him so smiley (even though it's hot outside!)

I feel like I'm in a storybook when I walk here.

This treasure exists on my street, only a few doors down. I'm pretty certain it's abandoned and I would love to get over there to do a photoshoot soon.

I like to think that after we get home and rest, he thinks about the great, long walk we just went on.

Keeping motivation alive can be really difficult. Being healthy and happy with yourself is a lifestyle change that requires commitment and sacrifice. It can be really hard to continue to make choices that work for your goals because we become so dependent upon routine. But I really believe that with some creativity, research, and dedication, we can make our breaks from routine fun, enjoyable, and events worth looking forward to. I'm practicing this method everyday, and some days, I truly feel like I'm getting close. 

Pagan Coming Out Day - May 2, 2013

Today is Pagan Coming Out Day, a celebration that began, as far as I know, in 2011. It's become an important tradition for many Pagans of all different spiritual identities, and I feel that each year its importance grows stronger than the last. I've never had any sort of official "coming out of the broom closet," so I wanted to take some time today to write about my experiences and participate in the PCOD tradition.

As it seems with most people who are not born into Pagan families, I encountered Wicca through pop culture when I was around 12 years old. I saw movies like The Craft, or watched shows like Charmed and Buffy on TV. I was curious and started talking to a friend about it in junior high school. He also liked all the supernatural shows, but I had no idea that he had already began exploring Wicca as an actual religion -- I didn't even know it was an actual religion! This friend really changed my entire life because of a book he let me borrow one day, and I don't think there's a Pagan in the United States today who isn't at least familiar with it: Dorothy Morrison's The Craft. That book created something like a paradigm shift in me. I was completely fascinated and obsessed, I think I finished reading it in only two or three days before starting it over again. What followed is predictable. I moved on to Buckland's "Big Blue Book," made my way through Scott Cunningham's bibliography. I tried one Silver Ravenwolf book (but even back then, I knew I didn't want anything to do with her writing, hahaha). I dedicated myself, very privately and very quietly, in November of 2003.

Fast forwarding to the present, I no longer identify as Wiccan (the more I studied it, the more theological issues I had with it), but I am proudly Pagan, with a heavy focus on European witchcraft and a growing passion for Hoodoo and conjure practices. I suppose I officially work with the Egyptian pantheon, though lately I've been combatting a lot of deep spiritual issues when it comes to Deity. I don't want to get too side-tracked, however, I just wanted to lay down a little bit of my religious history.

It took a long time for me to really be a public Pagan, both in terms of people who knew and also participating in public rituals and holidays. I went to a Yule party once in a high school, and a few different rituals in New York after I moved there, but I didn't ever stay with a particular group. A lot of Pagan communities can be really difficult to break into, and I think that leaves a lot of solitary practitioners feeling lonely. I know I did, because while I was practicing witchcraft at home alone, I didn't get the kind of community that comes with holidays. Think about our sympathy toward those people who are alone on Christmas or Thanksgiving -- I felt like that every time I was alone on Beltaine or Lughnasadh or Yule. Ironically (perhaps) it took moving to the Bible Belt before I found a stable, wonderful, diverse Pagan community, and I'm proud to be a member of it.

And now that I am a member of a Pagan church, I feel like I'm more "out" than ever -- I have one of their stickers on my car and my laptop, I have their business cards, I talk about them frequently with my friends, both those who are Pagan and who are not. Since I've been attending their festivals and rituals, my first one being Samhain 2010, I've lived everyday as an out and proud Pagan.

Except with my family.

It's a strange feeling, not really lying to them, but cutting them off from what's become a huge focal point to my life and my identity. I did talk to my parents about Wicca occasionally when I was in early high school, but I'm not sure they ever took it seriously. When I went to that Yule party, my mom tried to convince me that that wasn't what they were actually celebrating and that I shouldn't assume. My dad once made a joke about casting spells on my brother with the clay pentacle I was making. Though, he also once brought me back a pentacle necklace from a business trip. I don't believe that either of them wanted to make me feel weird or bad about my religious interests, but I did anyway. I've never been comfortable with the idea of discussing that with them. And I don't really know why.

Last summer, I visited with some cousins in Texas and while I was there, one of them asked me what my religious beliefs are. I'm sure she knew the answer; I have them displayed on my Facebook page (where all my family can see it), but even knowing that she most likely knew, it still felt strange or foreign to say it out loud to her. I mean, it was also a little weird for me because her family is very Christian, which is fine, but I always get a little weird about discussing any alternative religion with most active Christians, but the discomfort I was feeling was also because she is my blood family. Maybe it's because of the obligations that exist between blood relatives, whether real or imagined, I'm not sure, but I'm afraid of their judgment. I'm not afraid of anyone else's. I feel awkward truly letting in any of my family. I don't hide from them, but I don't bring it up either. It's difficult and depressing.

And I don't want it to be that way. I want to be able to tell them about the awesome friends I've made in Kentucky, about the cool new things I learned from these friends, about how much I look forward to festival season and how happy my church makes me. I want to tell them when I finish my degree, I want to go through my church's ministry education to become a Pagan minister myself. I want to tell them about how much being Pagan means to me, how passionate I am about it, but they just don't get the opportunity to know that side of me. And for that, I feel guilty and dishonest, as well as sad because I don't think it's going to change. It's a conversation that I don't know how to begin and I've used that fear to block off a huge portion of my life. It also makes me feel like a hypocrite, because I believe the greater Pagan community should be out and public and known, when I myself am not those things entirely. Maybe someday I'll be ready to remove those self-imposed chains from my life. And wouldn't that be relieving?

Part of my temple room (and my dog who likes to hang out in there)

How I Must Take Myself Back

I've really started letting myself go, in the way overwhelmed, 40-something mothers do, before they cut all their hair off, becoming shapeless grey blobs of sweatsuits and birkenstocks. That's exactly how I feel.

I didn't think that would start to happen until my mid-30's or 40's, not my mid-20's. I feel incredibly old and immature at the same time. There are so many things I want to do, that are right there within reach, but I procrastinate everything. I'm lazy and sluggish, and up until the last few weeks, I've been indifferent as well. Getting by on knowledge and daydreams rather than action. It's really pathetic of me.

It may seem as if I'm having a pity party over here, but there's a difference between low self esteem and being realistic about how one has given up on oneself. For example : Though I wear yoga pants most days I'm not wearing scrubs, I only go occasionally now, despite having more time and more studios to visit. I used to go to yoga at least three times a week, sometimes two classes a day. Now I'm lucky if I make it to even two classes a month.

I used to be a health-food fiend, strict vegetarian, spending hours on shopping trips reading every label, cooking 3 or more meals at home each day, never touching bread or rice that was bleached, never eating frozen dinners, fast food of any kind wasn't even on my radar. Now, I drink soda, I cook more with my microwave than I do with my stove. Though I stopped eating vegetarian for other reasons, I've also completely slacked off on my Mediterranean (low glycemic index) diet. I haven't been to the farmers market in months.

And because of that, I'm gaining weight. I'm around 127-128 pounds, almost 20 pounds heavier than I've ever been before, none of it in muscle weight. I've stopped exercising, I've stopped hiking, I've stopped biking. I barely have enough energy to take my dog for a decent walk each day. Two years ago, I was doing P90X, I was going to the gym almost everyday, at least every other. When I see how out of shape I've become so quickly, it makes me feel defeated, which makes me feel indifferent.

I used to read obsessively, finishing 2-3 new books each month. I carried books everywhere, and turned their pages every chance I got a moment. It was one of the most important daily activities I had. And I still read now, but so much else has taken priority over it. My poor books gather dust faster than my eyes get to see their words. I'm still reading the same novel I was a month and a half ago. I haven't even gotten close to starting all the new ones I wanted to by now.

I used to have a dedicated spiritual practice. I spent a lot of time studying different texts, practicing new and old techniques, meditating, speaking to the Earth, experiencing Nature and Paganism in different ways. I do have to say that my church is one of the only things today that can get me awakened, energized, excited, interested. But it's so often now that I don't bring back home the things I learn there. My private life now is pretty empty, and it feels pretty meaningless. I'm fucking sick of it.

I want my life back, my sense of self, my whole self back. My identity has become that of a depressed, lonely, boring shell. I've not even started any of the 2013 resolutions I wrote for myself on January 1st. I said 2013 was my year, but I haven't yet accomplished one thing other than excuses and being afraid. I'm beyond wanting everything to change, and waiting for that to happen. I've been living passively and isolated, and it's bullshit. I'm glad I feel angry at myself for allowing all of this to happen. I wasn't ever angry about it before, just sad. Sadness doesn't motivate anything, it hinders and distracts and eventually cripples. But isn't it so easy to give into sadness? That's the real insanity of my own life right now. Up until this point, I've been content with being sad. How ridiculous is that?

There are so many things I want to accomplish, and so many changes that need to be made, ones I will have to force myself to embrace. Ones that I used to live out naturally that now seem so impossible. It's like I've forgotten how to be healthy and positive, somewhere, somehow, I fell out of rhythm and convinced myself that none of my old lifestyle mattered, because everything was stressful or chaotic. I've been less passionate than a zombie toward everything lately, and it is stopping now. I'm reaching in, and grabbing my mind or my soul or my higher self or whatever it is that we have, I'm grabbing it by the throat, slapping its face, demanding it to Wake Up, and possess me.

Dawn was so beautiful this morning. I won't keep wasting dawns like today's with hours that I throw away burying myself under negativity, irritation, and indifference. I am taking myself back, and I will not hold back to do so. No more laziness, or self-loathing, or self-sabotage. I no longer have patience for it in my mind or room for it in my heart. No one should ever let their self go.

No Surrender

It is the last weekend before the new semester starts, before the new spring, and I am desperate for change and for the ability to handle what's coming. Stress is the worst thing in my life, and though I feel completely adept at hiding my stress, it seems impossible to shut myself off from its experience, or to even diminish the experience. It is the reason for all my discomfort.

I do not place blame on stress, however, but rather on my own lack of self discipline in the face of stress. I have great plans for how to cope, but instead decide to buy a six-pack and watch TV, late at night when I get off work. And repeat, repeat. The cycle makes me so depressed that even the most basic meditation exhausts me, and each day I give up more easily. And repeat, repeat.

So of course, one of the bigger themes of my New Year's Resolutions is Find Ways to Better Deal with Stress. And I know what these art: more art, more exercise, improved diet, develop a more disciplined spiritual practice, more play, reading, imagination, meditation. Less booze, less smoking, (stop both...), less time non-productively spent on a computer, the end of procrastination. The end of feeding the strength of my stress by obsessing over it, worrying so much about how to handle it that I never actually do.

I believe there is a level of force required to defeat stress, and perhaps one of the simplest things is to force yourself to be positive. Punch through the mirror and declare, I am changing, I am making progress, there is evidence of these things. And I hope that this evidence will come to make up a portion of the meaningful content in this blog: how my puppy is growing into one of the sweetest dogs I've ever known (and how I'm starting to teach him some agility!), how I'm changing my diet and eating Mediterranean, low glycemic index meals, how I'm getting out more to photograph what I might begin calling "speed portraits":

I'm trying to spend more time with a variety of people, I'm cooking more at home again, on the weekends when I don't have work until the evening, I take some time to go to the gym. I snuggle more with my cat, I took Tuesdays off my work availability in order to attend more discussions with a local philoso-religious group I've known for a long time. I'm trying to laugh more without holding back. 

Anne Rice said, "The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half-strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation." I feel as though for some time, my laughter has sounded more like the latter, and I refuse for that to continue to be so. There are no more excuses nor justifications for surrendering to stress.