In Honduras, Worlds Scariest Airport

I don't believe I would ever go there, not by air anyway.

I do believe if I had to go to the Honduras, I would have to go by boat. 

In Honduras, democracy crashed at a dangerous airport - The Washington Post

I am not my mistakes.

I am not my mistakes.

I can't do this alone or pretend any more.

The illusion of comfort in denial or sacrifice is no longer mine

.

There is no shame in my suffering -- no healing in silent self-tormen

t.

It is here at the surreal crossroads of the "soul search" where dawning truth meets the anguish of overwhelming resistance in mind over matter that I can finally wake up, change my mind, let go of what no longer works.

I am empowered by intense acknowledgment or epiphany and my virtue is gratitude or relief in recognition.