Wait, it’s over? Already? Or: F*ck Scarcity

By Jen Pastiloff I’m on the plane. I have Game of Thrones on in front of me, paused on…

Persister.

Hi, it’s Jen Pastiloff here. I never blog on the site anymore but here I am in New York,…

Turn on The Light, Mother F*%cker. Post Italy Blog.

By Jen Pastiloff I don’t blog often here on the site anymore but I wanted to share about my…

The Aleksander Scholarship Fund.

The answer to why some of us have to experience such pain in this life is a non-answer. There is no answer or platitude. Everything doesn’t happen for a reason. Donate if you feel inspired to.

Getting Older is Everything. Don’t Believe The Lies. A Message To Young Women on Jen Pastiloff’s Bday.

I was terrified of getting older. In my 20’s I lied and said I was younger. When I was 28, I said I was 25.

I thought once I turned 30 I would be useless. Read that again: useless.

You Really Should Be Skinnier

Don’t comment on my body or my face or if I am smiling. Don’t ask me if I am pregnant unless you see me giving birth or you know for sure. Don’t offer unsolicited advice about how I can be more beautiful or perfect or womanly or successful. Unless I ask you, zip it, Dude. Zip it.

You’re Enough. Don’t Be An Asshole & Go Forgetting That.

By Jen Pastiloff As you know if you follow me on social media or come to my workshops etc,…

Lying to Ourselves.

I think we lie to ourselves to survive.

The Truth About Depression. No Bullshit.

  By Jen Pastiloff I just got back from leading a beautiful retreat for Mother’s Day. I feel hung…

What Happens When Justin Timberlake & 25,000 Fans Sing Happy Birthday To a Boy With Autism?

Hey there! Jen Pastiloff here, I’m the founder of The Manifest-Station. Marika, the author of this piece, won a spot at…

Depression is a Duplicitous Asshole.

by Angela Giles Patel Everyone battles something. Some of these battles are episodic and some rage over the course…

Take The R Train

If I hadn’t lived with the abuser in 1988 after my father died, I wouldn’t have had my heart smashed open to an empathy I didn’t know was possible. Or I might have died there. Other women do. I walked out of their graveyard.

Madame Defarge in the age of Corona

So I leave it. And the next day, I keep knitting, picking up other colors, making something that I don’t even think about having control over, that I can’t possibly know how it might resolve. As I knit,  I look down every once in a while, surprised, and sometimes pleased.

Clay Glue

The first time he’d told me about his nearly immediate destruction of something we’d made together, I—as someone who had formed a sentimental bond with every object I’d ever owned, especially gifts—couldn’t hide my cringe.

Working in Circles

Richard reminds me of myself in this way—exploring many trades and wearing various hats to earn a living to support the true passion while remaining anti-establishment at heart.

The Converse-Station: Emma Hudelson interviews Erin Khar

There are several approaches to treating cancer, so if one doesn’t work, then try another. The same should be true for recovery.

My Practice

One morning, I woke up to practice. I spent about twenty minutes moving by body then rested it on the floor. I lay in corpse pose as the sun filtered through the blinds, casting shadows and warming my face. A few hours later, as I sat on the couch in that same living space, the sun casting shadows on the wall, my boyfriend killed himself in our bedroom.

Strung Out: Prologue

The truth is I did do drugs, a lot of drugs. I used heroin off and on from the age of thirteen until I got pregnant with Atticus at age twenty-eight.

The Coach Who Breaks All The Records – Ronda Shirley

Shirley is not just a successful coach, she is also mentor, and role model who motivates her players and children to become the best versions of themselves.

The Converse-Station: Alma Luz Villaneuva Interviews Gayle Brandeis

Your response says it all, Gayle- punched me in the gut, where truth often lands. And I can hear her small girl voice whisper, “Help me.”

Promises

After twelve hours of standing, gravity pulled blood into the veins of my feet, my ankles, my calves. I felt as if there were weights in my shoes––I was tired.

Nevertheless She…

I am convinced that religious fundamentalism is not just a social evil – it destroys the psyches of emotional individuals who are predisposed to self-examination and who care about being good people.

No Kids, No Regrets

When we’re settling into our seats, an emaciated brown-haired woman with a Tom Petty overbite slides in. Her thighs are the same width as my forearms, and Zoe appears in the aisle. She’s screaming like a banshee.

THE FIELD

I hear the ching of the aluminum bat. It’s a double. I watch my son leave home and round the corners, stopping at second. I wish it were a triple, so he’d be standing on the third corner, closer to where I’m sitting.

Woman Reading Newspapear

I had been wandering through other gallery rooms and went to join my mother only to see that she had claimed a spot on the floor near a corner. She’d seated herself, let her coat fall off her shoulders, plopped her handbag on the floor beside her, and arranged the newspaper in front of her as if she were reading.