I became aware of the Impostor Syndrome eight or nine years ago, when I was working for a failing start-up. Watching our staff whittle to half its size every few weeks was starting to take a toll on the remaining employees. I was grateful to still be working, but I wondered whether I should start looking into another job -- something more secure.

It takes me a while to see all the movies I want to see. So it is no shock that I just saw the 2008 Helen Hunt/Colin Firth/Bette Midler film, "And Then She Found Me." One line in the film haunts me, grabs me by the scruff of the spirit and will not let go. "Dive in and blog me," it says. "Figure out why, later."

I recently got together with a dear friend that I had not seen in years. She was traveling through Massachusetts, and decided to visit for a couple of days. It was major catch-up time. The events of my last five years have had a few deep difficulties in them, and as I was catching her up - with what seemed like one trauma-drenched-tale after another -- an odd thing happened. I got tired of having trauma in my past. Through unforgiveness, I had been dragging it into my present and presumably my future.

Part two of a two-part post: Caitlin Boyle of OperationBeautiful.com and Gaby Montero of GivesMeHope.com both seem to say based on their experiences with being more positive and how people have responded to their motivational Web sites and blogs that we humans greatly underestimate thinking positively.

I believe that when we consistently stumble into the same messages, or the same thoughts flit across our mental screens repeatedly -- and those thoughts are reasonable, not crazy -- that the universe is speaking to us, and we should pay attention. So, when a BlogHer staff member suggested a contributing editor write about the blogs Operation Beautiful and Gives Me Hope and interview their founders, I raised my hand in cyberspace, "Oooh! Ooh-ooh-ooh! I'll do it!"

My ex-husband was generally a failure at pet training. One memorable episode, however, taught us both an important spiritual lesson.

Last night a young man was pulled from the rubble in Haiti after eleven days. Eleven days. This following the rescue of a 7-year-old boy and his 10-year-old sister after eight days. If you're like me, you can barely imagine what any of them went through. All those days. In the dark. With little or nothing to eat or drink.

This is the week in which we honor the birth of the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King. It is a holiday that was, in the words of the song, "a long time coming." This year, we are calling it "A Day of Service," with the slogan "Make it a Day On, not a Day Off." It is a noble and appropriate idea. And who could not be thankful that members of the first family and the cabinet cooked food at homeless shelters and soup kitchens, cleaned trash up in a beautification project, and directly delivered food to the hungry? It's a good thing to do to really honor Martin Luther King.

BlogHer Community Manager, Denise Tanton, announced an experiment. She would match up volunteer Contributing Editors who were about a decade apart and give us a week or so to get to know each other, and to report back on what the inter-generational journey had been like. Viginia DeBolt and I volunteered and were paired. Virginia writes about Web & Technology, and I write about Religion & Spirituality.

I own a piece of art by New Mexico artist Helen Gwinn. It's called co-hearts. It's an artistic rendering of the iconic relationship that develops between women, that relationship we generally label friendship.

The arbitrating rabbis in Israel reversed an important decision concerning donor eggs this week; speeding through the passing of a new law and emotionally affecting even non-Israeli Jewish families. It's a case of a good impulse gone horribly, horribly wrong without regard to the emotional repercussions--either for the parents or the child.

Mary Daly is an important feminist foremother whether or not you knew of her, agreed with her, or read her books. Her work was like a powerful intellectual and spiritual snow-plow, taking the risks to clear the roads for others to travel. There are radical pioneers who risk everything the world will say about them or do to them in order to truly inhabit what they believe. They walk what they talk, even when the talking alone is an act of courage. Mary Daly was that kind of pioneer. She lived her truth.