All Posts By:

Emily Johnson

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THE PROBLEM WITH MOTHER’S DAY

Here’s the problem. I don’t like Mother’s Day. You don’t like Mother’s Day. We don’t like Mother’s Day. And everywhere you go signs of it are in your face. Cards, flowers, jewelry, brunch; it’s a marketing heyday. This year US citizens are expected to spend $23.1 billion dollars on this day. And did you know that Mothers Day originally had nothing to do with celebrating mothers!?! I mean c’mon! How absurd is that! Check out this piece on Elephant Journal for more history on the day if you are interested. There’s a million reasons why we may not like Mothers Day.  ...

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CALLING ALL HEALTHCARE PROVIDERS

HEALTHCARE PROFESSIONALS … listen up! Imagine yourself  in the grand ballroom at the Fairmont Copley Plaza hotel. There you stand, bewildered, taking it all in. The beautiful gilded columns with ornate molding, the sea of long tables and 400 empty chairs that are inviting participants like myself in. A crowd of 250 strange faces all around you. There is a palpable energy in the air. It is an excited, nervous energy. I wondered, “Who ARE all these people? What are they writing? What is their story?” This is initially what I experienced before the first speaker, our course  ...

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TRUTH IN THE STARS

EACH OF US IS HERE FOR A BRIEF SOJURN; FOR WHAT PURPOSE HE KNOWS NOT, THOUGH HE SOMETIMES THINKS HE SENSES IT. BUT WITHOUT DEEPER REFLECTION ONE KNOWS FROM DAILY LIFE THAT ONE EXISTS FOR OTHER PEOPLE. – ALBERT EINSTEIN   Yesterday I listened to Danielle LaPorte’s first podcast. The whole fam was piled in the car as we headed out to western Massachusetts for my bestie’s son’s 2nd birthday party. I was hungry to listen to this because  Danielle is as real as real gets. I waited until both boys fell asleep and then pressed play. For the next hour it was like she  ...

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A LETTER TO SELF

An unedited excerpt from my book, ‘I CHOOSE ME – BREAKDOWN TO BREAKTHROUGH’ …   And that day in the early spring of 2017 we sat in our scared circle on the floor of the yoga studio and we wrote. We wrote a letter to our future selves. When we finished we placed our letters in a self addressed stamped envelope and then our teacher collected them all. She placed them in a basket, mixed them all up, and passed the basket around instructing us to choose one random envelope that wasn’t ours. Our job would be to hold on to the envelope and mail it out to our  ...

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WHEN CANCER CALLS – BREATHE IN. BREATHE OUT.

I wake up to a gray, dreary morning the day after Valentine’s Day. My 7 year old son rolling around in bed next me announcing what time it is and insisting I get up. I don’t want to. There’s an underlying force in me that just wants to stay put in the warm cocoon of my bedroom; the safe reassuring weight of my heavy down comforter. Five more minutes buddy. It’s been 3 days since my mom’s biopsy. Beneath that underlying force that keeps me curled under the covers is the looming thought, “Is today the day? Is today the day I find out my mom has breast cancer?” My mind drifts to the  ...

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MOMMA SAY NAMASTE

Isn’t it amazing how one minute you can feel so in control, so accomplished, so content and then you go to pre-school pick-up! WTF!?!? It’s like whiplash really. You come back home with the kid to a minefield of Legos all over the living room floor. There are little, scary Lego heads lurking around every corner. They are in the fruit bowl, the kitchen cabinets, and on top of the mantle. They stare at you; taunting and laughing at you. Dear husband is downstairs working from home. It appears he has already made himself a sandwich. It’s 1:30 pm. You haven’t eaten  ...

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LISTEN TO YOUR HEART STRINGS

His name is Cory. He is young and I would guess he is about my age in his mid to late thirties. He is always wearing dark pants, a puffy, navy blue bomber jacket, baseball cap, and a red backpack slung sideways across his back. He walks with his hands stuffed inside his pockets; his head slightly down. There’s a sadness; a heaviness to his gait as he walks down the sidewalk-less, narrow, and curvy road toward town. I’ve passed him dozens and dozens of times as I drive my littlest one to and from preschool. I’ve always wondered what his story is. Who is this man? Is he  ...

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STARE FEAR STRAIGHT IN THE FACE

Most times when I sit down to write I have no idea what I am going to write about or where my words may take me. Tonight was no exception, until I learned about these two teenagers, Bailey Holt and Preston Cope; two precious lives that were taken this past Tuesday in Kentucky. I don’t know what it is like to drop your child off at school and then later learn they were killed during a shooting. I cannot even fathom this pain that so many parents in our country have had to bear. Really, I am at a loss for words. And now I realize it – words are useless right now – because  ...