Posts by JR Hughes

JR Hughes (Josephine) is an Irish writer who has recently moved to Ibiza, Spain for the warmth. She is working on three novels and hopes to secure a publishing deal soon. You can follow her progress and some of her random thoughts and photos at http://www.facebook.com/JRHughesWriter.

JR Hughes's Website

Finally Letting Go of the Pain and Moving On after a Breakup

“Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” ~C. S. Lewis

Another year over and you’re still troubled by a relationship that ended last year or in years past. The whole thing is dragging on too long—why can’t you just get over it? But every time you think about it or bump into your ex, you feel ruined again

How about giving your feelings another shake?

Rattle them in any direction—a new one. If it turns out to be the wrong direction you …

How to Maintain a Happy Relationship: The Desired Things of Love

“Once you have learned to love, you will have learned to live.” ~Unknown.

Desiderata is Latin for “desired things.” The original and famous Desiderata poem, penned in the 1920s by Max Ehrmann, gives general advice on living well.

It begins, “Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence,” and ends, “Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”

The overwhelming message of Desiderata is to be kind and honest, and to keep faith in all our business and personal affairs. When it comes to love, it counsels us not to grow cynical, …

Decluttering Made Easy: How I Lightened My Load from the Inside Out

“Letting go isn’t the end of the world; it’s the beginning of a new life.” ~Unknown

Last December I found myself sitting on my floor, having just left my job and a ten-year relationship. As a result, I was about to leave my home too. In front of me was a mountain of possessions that I somehow had to take with me to wherever I was going next.

Clothes, bedding, books, notebooks, electronic bits and pieces, boxes of ornaments, and sentimental “things,” handbags within handbags, flocks of high heels, tsunamis of paperwork…

And then there was little me.

I felt