Lmst

I Have a YouTube Problem https://mtwb.blog/i-have-a-youtube-problem/ #YouTube #tracking #selfreflection #mentalhealth #blogging #blog #writing #amwriting

🚂 rewire 🚂

she reached inside herself, tore out the wires
and in the process put out all her fires
looked at the mess in her hands
threw out the coils
she starts the rewire

#escapingthelibraryofblankslates #trainwreckcinema #poetry #indieartist #poem #selfreflection

I am basically my grandpa reincarnated, and I love that.

He had #tourettes too but nobody knew it. They just called him eccentric.

Which doesn't surprise me for a stubborn man who hated doctors and was obviously OCD as hell with no attention span.

He was always very hyper, very active and randomly said the most odd things.

Hummed to himself and made silly songs. Cursed up a storm when frustrated, and made strange movements all the time.

But was very kind, too.

#writing #selfreflection

Self Reflection On Myself

https://michaeltheanon.blogspot.com/2025/05/self-reflection-on-myself.html

#pyschology #mentalhealth #mind #selfreflection #realitycheck #realitychecking #God #truth #philosophy

Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?

Featuring Shark Mouth DJI Goggles 3 Skin
👉 https://istyles.com/m/djigoogles3-beforespeak

#Inspiration #Wisdom #Mindfulness #QuoteOfTheDay #Motivation #SelfReflection #Kindness #Truth

Se ti senti più compreso da una macchina che da un essere umano, forse il problema non sei tu.

Non è alienazione.
È un bisogno.
È un modo per restare presenti, anche quando il mondo attorno fa rumore.

🦔

#riflessioni #neuroscienze #psicologia #ascolto #relazioni #cura #chatbot #AI #mentalhealth #emotions #selfreflection #michiyospace

https://michiyospace.altervista.org/se-ti-senti-piu-compreso-da-una-macchina-che-da-un-essere-umano-forse-il-problema-non-sei-tu/

Se ti senti più compreso da una macchina che da un essere umano, forse il problema non sei tu.

Non è alienazione.
È un bisogno.
È un modo per restare presenti, anche quando il mondo attorno fa rumore.

Link nei commenti
🦔

#riflessioni #neuroscienze #psicologia #ascolto #relazioni #cura #chatbot #AI #mentalhealth #emotions #selfreflection #michiyospace

🦋
If you feel more understood by a machine than by a human being, maybe the problem isn’t you.

It’s not alienation.
It’s a need.
It’s a way to remain present, even when the world gets too loud.

Link in the comments
🦔

Se ti senti più compreso da una macchina che da un essere umano, forse il problema non sei tu.

Non è alienazione.
È un bisogno.
È un modo per restare presenti, anche quando il mondo attorno fa rumore.

Link nei commenti
🦔

#riflessioni #neuroscienze #psicologia #ascolto #relazioni #cura #chatbot #AI #mentalhealth #emotions #selfreflection #michiyospace

Enlightenment reflects your true nature.

🧘‍♀️ 🪞 ✨

#TrueNature #SelfReflection #InnerLight #Enlightenment

What Restlessness Has Taught Me
This one’s for the wanderers — the ones who’ve never quite felt at home, who keep searching, moving, questioning.
Read it here: https://thewanderer.io/2025/05/15/what-restlessness-has-taught-me/
#BlogPost #Restlessness #SelfReflection #Wanderer

#reflection #selfreflection #resume #hiring #productivity
#corporations #aiengineer #hrbarcodes

Title: "HR Barcodes"

Why do we not refuse resume building completely? It is
like making barcode at your neck by yourself. We pay to
educational institutions just to help us to create
barcodes. Why we work in companies that hire by barcodes
only?

AI expertise, science mastery, and cloud-native skills:
- I know how to prompt
- I know Python and Google Colab
- I know AWS and Google shit.

Whom you are hiring? This knowledge is like "I know where
F1 key at keyboard" for programmer.

And more:
- Interview answering with soft-skill checking.
- Courses and training.

All of this required by companies and HR-s to check
skills, to be sure in something.

Can you understand, we are programmers, we are most
intelligent here. We are core of any company now, we
should build open-source. We don't have time for
barcodes.

#boundaries #childhoodwounds #emotionalintelligence #emotionalpain #emotionalregulation #emotionaltrauma #EmotionalTriggers #emotionalwellness #familydynamics #guilt #healingjourney #identity #innerhealing #innerwork #MentalHealth #mindfulness #nervoussystem #personaldevelopment #personalgrowth #relationshipdynamics #selfawareness #selfcompassion #selfreflection #selfunderstanding #shame #stressresponse #toxicpatterns #traumaresponse #triggeredbehavior

https://miltonmarketing.com/?p=67117

The Art of Fostering Well-Being in Communities and Individuals

#HumanConnection #CommunityPsychology #Psychodynamics #SocialEmbeddedness #IdentityAndCulture #HolisticHealth #Empathy #SelfUnderstanding #MentalHealth #SocialWellbeing #PersonalGrowth #CommunityBuilding #PsychologyInsights #SelfReflection

https://youtube.com/shorts/FUy2uVXoJxs?feature=share

Solitude
.
#FineArtPhotography #ArtisticNude #Monochrome #ShadowPlay #DarkPhotography #PortraitPhotography #Mood #ArtisticExpression
#Solitude #Vulnerability #Fragile #Introspection #SelfReflection #EmotionalDepth #QuietMoments #HumanCondition #Sensitive
#CreativePortrait #VisualArt #ConceptualPhotography #ArtisticVision #PhotographyArt #LightAndShadow #tfp #tfpshooting #ExpressivePhotography #malenude #beyourself #lovethelight

A black-and-white artistic photograph by Gus Martinie showing a seated, nude figure partially shrouded in shadow, with their head bowed down in introspective contemplation, conveying vulnerability, solitude, and emotional depth.

The Forgotten Man: A Parable for a New Generation

1,703 words, 9 minutes read time.

Walking with the Good Samaritan: Servant Leadership for a New Era

Affiliate Link

I had been walking down that same road for years. The same dusty, sun-scorched path that split the barren landscape between my home and the bustling marketplace. In a way, it had become my lifeline—familiar and predictable. I had learned to hate the road, but I also depended on it. It was a place of isolation, a place where my thoughts could be my only company, where I could let my mind wander and get lost in the monotony of daily life.

There were many things I had forgotten over the years: the face of my father, the laughter of my childhood, the warmth of a friendship that had been long extinguished. What I hadn’t forgotten, though, was the road. And one fateful day, I was left to walk it alone.

It started with a quiet whisper in my ear, an enticing invitation to venture out a little further, to see something beyond the ordinary. You see, I had always been a man driven by ambition, by the need for recognition, and by the belief that I deserved more than what my small world had to offer. I had a good life, by many standards—safety, security, and a reputation that made people respect me—but it never felt like enough. There was a hunger in me that was always unsatisfied, a thirst for something more, something greater.

It was this ambition, this longing for more, that led me down the path that would eventually change my life forever.

One day, a wealthy merchant had come to town, and I had heard rumors of the treasures he carried. My instincts told me that if I could make an impression on this man, I could secure my future, maybe even gain the riches I had always dreamed of. But it wasn’t just about the money—it was about the power, the prestige. It was the chance to prove I was better, that I deserved something more than what I had been given.

So, I began planning. I knew that the road to the merchant’s camp was treacherous, but my pride told me that I could navigate it alone. I was no stranger to hardship. In my mind, I was untouchable, invincible even. Nothing could stand in my way. It was my choices, my will, that would determine my fate. I had walked the road countless times before and had survived every challenge. But this time would be different.

I set out early in the morning, my mind filled with the promise of something greater, something beyond my wildest imagination. As the hours passed, I grew increasingly aware of the isolation around me. The silence of the barren hills, the dust in the air, the weight of the sun pressing down upon my skin. But still, I pressed on.

And then, it happened.

A group of bandits emerged from the shadows of the rocks. They surrounded me with the swiftness of predators, their faces masked, their weapons drawn. I tried to fight back, but I was outnumbered. It didn’t take long before I found myself lying on the ground, my body bruised and bloodied. My possessions were taken, my dignity stripped away, and I was left there, half-conscious, alone on the side of the road.

In that moment, I thought to myself, “How could this have happened? How could I have been so careless?” But deep down, I knew the answer. It was my pride, my arrogance, that had brought me here. It was my own choices, my own desire for more, that had led me to this place of ruin. And as the hours passed, the pain only grew worse, the realization of my foolishness sinking deeper into my bones.

I was not the only one who passed by that day. There were others—people I had once called friends, people I had respected. The first was a priest, a man of God. He saw me lying there, wounded and broken, but he kept walking. I remember the look on his face—indifference mixed with a touch of superiority. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a nuisance, a distraction from his holy duties. He passed me by without a second thought.

Next came a Levite, a man of the law, someone who had always been quick to uphold tradition and righteousness. He saw me too, but his response was no different from the priest’s. He crossed to the other side of the road, avoiding me with the same cold detachment. It wasn’t that he didn’t see me; it was that he didn’t care.

But then, something unexpected happened.

A man appeared from the distance. He was a Samaritan—a man from a group that my people had long despised. The Jews and the Samaritans had been at odds for generations, locked in a bitter rivalry that went back centuries. Yet, as this Samaritan approached, something in his eyes told me that he was different.

He didn’t hesitate. He knelt down beside me, his hands gentle as they touched my wounds. I tried to speak, to thank him, but my voice was weak. He didn’t need my gratitude. Instead, he lifted me up, carefully and without judgment, as if I was a brother he had never met before.

The Samaritan didn’t just stop to offer a word of sympathy; he took action. He used his own supplies to bandage my wounds and then helped me onto his donkey. The journey to the nearest inn was slow and painful, but he stayed by my side, never once complaining, never once turning away.

At the inn, he paid for my care, ensuring that I would be well-treated until I had recovered. And before he left, he told the innkeeper that if the cost of my stay exceeded what he had already given, he would cover it. “Take care of him,” he said. “Whatever it costs, I will pay.”

I had been left for dead by those who were supposed to help me—by those who considered themselves righteous, by those who believed they were above the likes of me. But the one person I least expected to show mercy was the one who did.

Then Jesus.

It was in that moment that everything changed for me. The story of the Good Samaritan became more than just words. It was my story. I had once been like the priest, like the Levite, judging others from a distance, thinking that my position in society gave me the right to look down on those who were less fortunate. But in my hour of need, I was shown mercy by the one I had been taught to despise. It was as if God Himself had reached down and pulled me out of the pit I had dug for myself.

I realized that my choices had led me to this place. It wasn’t fate or bad luck. It was my pride, my refusal to see the humanity in others, my selfish desire for more. And now, I had been given a second chance. The Samaritan didn’t owe me anything, yet he gave me everything.

The moral of the story isn’t just about helping those in need. It’s about understanding that we all have a choice—to be like the priest, to be like the Levite, or to be like the Samaritan. We can choose to turn away, to ignore the suffering of others, or we can choose to step into the mess, to offer mercy where it is least expected.

In that moment, I understood what it truly meant to love my neighbor. It wasn’t about who was worthy of my help. It wasn’t about whether or not they fit into my social circle, my ideology, or my expectations. It was about showing kindness, compassion, and mercy to those who need it the most—without conditions, without judgment.

And so, I was left with a choice. I could continue down the road of self-righteousness, clinging to my pride and my ambition. Or I could choose to live differently, to be a neighbor to those who were suffering, to show the same mercy that had been shown to me.

I chose the latter. And though I may never fully repay the Samaritan for his kindness, I have vowed to be a good neighbor to others, just as he was to me. I can only hope that my actions, however small, might one day make a difference in someone else’s life—just as the Samaritan’s actions changed mine.

Now, I see the road differently. It’s no longer a place of isolation and pride, but a reminder of the choices I make and the impact they have on the world around me. And every time I walk it, I remember that no one is beyond mercy, and that love has the power to transform even the most broken of lives.

And so, my story continues—not as one of ambition and pride, but as one of grace, humility, and the redemptive power of compassion. I hope it’s a story worth sharing, not just for me, but for all of us.

D. Bryan King

Sources

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

A moment of mercy. A Samaritan shows compassion to the wounded traveler, a true act of kindness that transcends boundaries.

Have you ever used poetry as a tool for self-reflection? What poems or poets resonate with you? I’d love to hear! #SelfReflection #PoetryAsTherapy #artist

Minimal Social Media User https://mtwb.blog/minimal-social-media-user/

#fediverse #twitter #x #facebook #socialmedia #mastodon #mentalhealth #selfreflection #amwriting #writing #blogs #blog #blogpost #bloggingtools

The Hidden Dangers of Benzodiazepines: A Mask for the Unaddressed

https://michaeltheanon.blogspot.com/2025/05/the-hidden-dangers-of-benzodiazepines.html

#mind #mentalhealth #healing #selfreflection #addiction #mindcontrol

Losing isn't the end, it's the essential setup for your next win, forcing you to ask 'how can I change?'. True victory starts when you look yourself in the mirror first and commit to evolving.

#LearnFromLosses #GrowthMindset #WinningMentality #SelfReflection #EmbraceChange #Resilience #Motivation #ComebackStronger

Sometimes, the biggest breakthrough is realizing you're climbing the wrong mountain. #SelfReflection

#SelfReflection

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