This is a post about Divine sensitivity

šŸ’œšŸ™šŸ¼šŸ’ŖšŸ¼

The misunderstandings of it. The trouble. The gift all of it.

I was driving home yesterday from a trip to Salem with my twins, plus friend and boyfriend.

I do not recommend Salem by the way, not in this season anyway. Disneyland is easier to navigate. We ended up eating Indian food of all things because we couldnā€™t get into any of the adorable shops or eateries, due to massive crowds and lines.

No thank you. Not even for witchy shit.

One of my twins was saying about how she never knows how to rate her pain when going to a medical professional. I can relate. Which is so interesting because you rate your pain by being able to express how youā€™re feeling.

So what about for those of us with wounds of expression?

Itā€™s in this stage of life I can see how my traumas have passed to my children. I can see mine even through them. Itā€™s jarring to say the least. It requires a healthy ability to be able to handle the truth, to hold space, to heal. Rather than going into a spiral of guilt, fear, despair.

I would say the most influential work helping me to achieve this is understanding consciousness and the energy it vibrates at. How courage moves us into a new level and more able to eventually achieve actualization.

Letting Go by David R. Hawkins and his maps of consciousness.

So during this conversation they were commenting only from what they have been taught about a time their brother as a young child went to the emergency room for acute stomach pain. He was in ultimate distress. So much so that they called a surgical team assuming his appendix had perhaps burst and gave him morphine right away.

It ended up he had some very bad gas. Which by the way can also cause acute pain. And most importantly none of us knew what was happening. It is natural to seek help and support for pain like that.

No labels of dramatic necessary.

We are healing wounds of being critical in our family at this time.

I am finding the words to share to soothe. The salve.

My hyper vigilance and trauma led me constantly to scanning my environment for threat. It also led me into relationships where I was mistreated and I mistreated right back.

Things I am not proud of. There are plenty.

The only thing that helps is to heal. To make amends. And this is the journey Iā€™ve been on for several years now. Figuring out what supports this work, and what doesnā€™t.

Getting into my own channel. Channeling.

Ultimate healing.

Anyway I wrote my daughter this morning owning and sharing about what healing I want for us. To be less critical of self and other, without losing an ounce of heart discernment which is very important.

The sensitivity is not the problem.

Pain is the problem. The problem is the problem.

Sensitive is strong and beautiful.

Boundaries are a different matter. The more secure those are the easier the healing journey will be. No more all or nothing.

Heart opening is the work Iā€™m continually doing. Telling others what to do less, listening more. Listen this is absolutely a work in progress. Iā€™m in recovery. Iā€™m not perfect.

But my god I love the journey. Even with its tough moments.

At some point you crest a hill and get a glimpse of the water, when youā€™ve been walking in the desert.

More and more glimpses of what is possible.

You are possible. I am possible.

On an earthly note I need to walk before doing my writing immersion.

This next couple of weeks will be a series of timing vaccines and pills in safety prep for Bali departure.

I canā€™t believe Iā€™ll be where my spirit mother first journeyed and later again on her healing journey.

ā¤ļøšŸ«¶šŸ¼ all my love,

C

Sensitive is The New Strong, Dying to be Me.

ā€œAnd youā€™ve come from a good place with a happy family, the only bad thing youā€™ve ever done was to see the good in me. Find someone who plants flowers in the darkest parts of you.ā€ZB

As I sit here this morning, in my favorite window of me time in the morning. I am reveling in the notion that if you travel deeply, you keep returning to the same things again and again.

For example this morning Iā€™m reading Anita Moorianiā€™s Sensitive is the new strong. It was around 2013, while working amidst the produce at Trader Joeā€™s in the wee hours of the morning I was listening to Dying to Be Me. It was with the first generation of Apple headphones and the iPhone with the button in the center, or earlier if I recall.

I resonated deeply with that book, though it was very hard to believe at the time, and my mind still tends towards skepticism, even as I am a believer.

I also listened to Paulo Coehlo books then, the Valkries, the Pilgrimage, etc.

A line: ā€œyou canā€™t unknow what you knowā€ stands out to me, about any experience we have really.

I sit and think why didnā€™t I stand up for myself in so many ways, for so many things?!

When someone is actually telling you the truth to you, without being direct. I think of all I would have said. But I donā€™t think long on it now because thereā€™s life to be lived and joy to be had, and of course because this is me, work to be done.

So Iā€™m revisiting my birthright of sensitivity and the many resources needed to keep me in a good place with it. Very helpful. Also the highly sensitive person in love, by Dr Elaine Aron.

My traumatized mind grasping always to control its external environment, when the internal is so disorganized. Now I do the opposite.

I am building a home inside myself. A palace really.

Yesterday was the culmination of watching This is Us. Itā€™s my new favorite written show. So much in there that makes you think, triggers and epiphanies alike. Of course because itā€™s tv if you let it, it could make you feel terrible about your life. All those warm and wise conversations about the important things between parents and children. Iā€™m not naive to the knowledge without a written script many of us didnā€™t get that, or dole it out.

But itā€™s never too late to start.

Knowing who you want to be is as necessary as knowing who you are. I enjoy the journey of both. I am enjoying them.

Iā€™m a UConn Husky Mom now! Thatā€™s exciting! I move a child into college for time number two in August. One more birdy out of the nest, and another migrating home for a few months before her next venture.

I will blink and the kids will have their own nests and flock home less, but still hopefully often. I have a wide open array of possibilities in life, still, always. Iā€™m hopeful to rise to that occasion, even if that means allowing myself to sit and read a novel in an afternoon, without feeling Iā€™ve missed a thing.

I donā€™t need to be in a hurry to capture everything. I just took a deep satisfying breath.

My window of time with the morning is closing soon. Everyone is buzzing about the eclipse. Itā€™ll be time to walk the dogs, give Henri her medicine, carry her up and down the stairs, feed them. Take a walk and a shower. The shower is such a great part. All the thoughts gently cascading, all the recharge from the waterā€¦.

And then to enter the day.

Taking twin A for blood work for her first time. Sheā€™s nervous. I know what that feels like, and usually Iā€™m the last to say youā€™ll be fine, and to be reassuring. Iā€™m more likely to be awkward and say something scary. My mind can be a delightful playground of deeply imprinted survival mechanics.

Iā€™m just trying to take off the suit.

This is an homage to a dear friend. His is much cuter than mine of course. Mine is probably more like a Spartan, he the Pink Ranger.

Another day trying to connect with the humans and not be too sensitive to saying the wrong thing, as I often do in my real life, contrasted by often having exactly what someone needs in my professional one.

As I heal and create new comfort zones outside the walls of my original ones. As I build. I look forward to bridging those gaps. Filling the bullet holes inside myself with new skin, bone, flesh, and blood.

Less a project and more, perfection from birth that I wasnā€™t able to see.

With new mirrors and lenses I invite the day.

Hello world give me what you have for me, and I vow to show up with integrity, honor, and to be of service.

Reading A Little Life, While Living A Big One

Willem and Jude

I am reading A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. As I continuously recognize the magnitude of trauma through the story of others, I close the distance gaps between mine and me.

Thereā€™s a line in the book about how a human being could be so thoroughly bifurcated, and that has haunted me ever since.

Is that what I was (am), bifurcated?

And much more specifically not just from my other half, an other half, but from my personality, my soulā€™s essence. Itā€™s heartbreaking to even write. As the truth seeps inside my skin and takes root.

I recognize, that I recognize the magnitude and then it disappears before my very eyes like the proverbial bird in the magicians cage once the cloth has been drawn back.

Each day a blank canvas in the way that only a survivor can understand, as if nothing has ever existed before. The only thing holding a human life together at times is the glue of the people around them, who they hold shared experiences with. Iā€™ve taken for granted that hallowed glue, and yet I havenā€™t.

I have known how important and this knowing led me to rush desperately, or maybe it was the trauma and not the knowing that caused that, and to create these unions out of a place of desperation.

See what I do there? How I take responsibility for things I couldnā€™t possibly be responsible for. But then how does one figure it all out anyway. What is theirs and what is not theirs and what is fair has no place in the realm of humanity. Because things are simply not fair.

Fair is a striving if anything, it is not granted by some mystical or even judicial force, and itā€™s certainly not a perfect system.

Rather these days I think what is the lesson, and the lesson is always love. Not in simply a romantic sense but an all encompassing one.

Is material like this this so relatable because of my many life experiences and similarity or some divine force that has me connect with exactly what is needed at the time?! Both.

Do I bore you going on and on and answering my own questions in your presence? I cannot attach to that it isnā€™t my business anyway if youā€™re bored or not. And besides what do I always say?! Youā€™ll never be bored. Iā€™m not boring and my life is certainly not, though it can be quiet and peaceful now.

Iā€™m learning to allow that.

Anyway this book and watching This is Us for the first time, has me breaking open daily.

Thereā€™s something about watching two people sharing life together that want their children that work hard at loving them well, that well just flays me open.

No surprise there.

Watching a father love his children and do his best, and the same for a mother. And how they balance their dreams and their own desires with that.

And how fucked up my path looks in comparison, which is why we donā€™t do that.

If I look at my life individually the whole story itā€™s so much easier to see the beauty in it. Watching families who love each other and have traditions and traditional anything just sets my skin aflame like the emotional burn victim I am.

Do you see my scars?

This book though. This show though.

Piece by piece Iā€™m collecting me and Iā€™m putting together a self that has all her original essence, from all the shards.

Itā€™s slow.

There is no longer a rush. Itā€™s slow and beautiful. Everything is art. Every meal cooked and eaten. Every dark thought banished by compassion.

This book opens me. My clients open me. Life opens me. Itā€™s exquisite and excruciating and I wouldnā€™t have it any other way.

A continual surrender. A cease fire on myself. And finally burying my armor and replacing it with something realistic, something lighterā€¦..

C

When I surrender to love, love has interesting things to say to me.

Like youā€™ll never be bored ha. I never am. Sometimes I think Iā€™d like to be until Iā€™m actually there.

Then of course I want to be somewhere else.

Iā€™m doing a lap before taking twin b to the hospital for fluids and stuff to help her tummy. I hate that she got this disease.

I hate how my heart aches when she doesnā€™t feel well. How my gut wrenches when she wretches. But this is the price of admission and Iā€™d gladly pay double, and itā€™s taken me a long time to get here.

Iā€™m grateful beyond words lately.

Surrendered, open, loving, letting go. And boy is that difficult for me, to stay consistent with that. Itā€™s daily work.

I can now see fear, control, and so many other things so much better. I can now see myself and others that way, thank God.

Iā€™ve had such artful posts flow through my mind the past couple of days but couldnā€™t get it down and thatā€™s ok. Itā€™s softer now. Thereā€™s faith I will.

I will. Not owned by my will. Will you?!

Where my mind goes in all intimate moments, the all nighters, the special moments. I have as much control over that as I do gravity.

I want to be free. To play, to think, to write, to create. To breathe.

I have needed to and am becoming a better person through letting go. I used to think that it was a process of holding on, to beliefs, to safety, to my opinion. To anything.

God I was insufferable. I suffer just thinking about some of the damage Iā€™ve done, and with that is all Iā€™ve overcome. Conjoined twins.

What is solid and will always be, are my boundaries around choices, they will be made from my most authentic truth bravely, and not recklessly.

I will only be and accept direct straight forward honesty. That makes me breathe easier. That is my commitment to myself. I love her fiercely.

God sheā€™s beautiful.

I am my best friend, and sure we fight sometimes but these days we repair quicker and cleaner.

I am committed to this work. To my beautiful clients who show up and show their scars, pain and hearts to me. It energizes me. If you show up my energy is yours to share in. Iā€™m here.

My life is not only worth living itā€™s exquisite. A masterpiece. Nothing is allowed to steal my peace anymore, nothing.

I have family, coping mechanisms, love in my open heart, courage, a fierce mind, and I love living, and life with all that I am.

I wouldnā€™t move one piece of my puzzle.

This year Iā€™m going to work on solid layers of self and continuing to not abandon myself, while also becoming better at love.

I see how much threat alert I lived with daily and what it has caused. I watch the damage daily in my childrenā€™s struggles. However I am right here for them. A rock. A River, an ocean. A warrior.

I am fiercely loyal, and that loyal was always going to need to include myself. I learned it didnā€™t.

Update ER for four hours. An experiment in the observation of humanity for sure. I may never come to one again. Somehow you end up worse off. Gah.

I watched the movie Burnt the other day, with Bradley Cooper. It resonated. Amazing movie about passion and recovery and food and creativity. It really touched me. Iā€™ve watched it since.

I seem to stay attached to those type of things. Movies and music that make me feel something. It stays. I stay.

Iā€™m back to reading schizophrenia and beginning one book after another but not committing, and resisting finishing them. Sigh. Time to slow down. Same with writing. Although thereā€™s some new on that front. Iā€™m beginning a therapeutic memoir writing course in January in addition to the immersion Iā€™m already doing.

Investing.

There are new beautiful things happening. New energy.

The old and new converges into a brew a stew, a crew.

Coming soon, talking about connecting with family members I never imagined I would, and knowing things I never imagined I could. A bond with my father posthumously I didnā€™t expect via a family member.

And the ongoing process of how in the hell to decide how best to spend the time and talent Iā€™ve been given. The ever elusive balance.

Thereā€™s so much ground to cover. But for now let me prevent myself from ending up in jail as a mom on her 5th hour of watching her daughter uncomfortable and not being able to do anything.

Purging Demons in the Night, Writing About it in Dawnā€™s Light

ā€œIā€™m out of my mind but still Iā€™m holding on like a rolling stone. A thousand miles from anywhere.ā€

Iā€™m soft and squishy this morning. The aftermath of another wave of grief. My grief is very physical. This episode I didnā€™t see coming. Itā€™s rare for me to not see something coming. The rarest, and some of the most beautiful, and the darkest things have been of that variety.

Yet what is living if you canā€™t let go, and let life surprise you, and take the wheel sometimes.

Love is the most powerful force on earth: you simply cannot control it. Though Iā€™ve tried my whole life.

Having so little experience with the stuff, Iā€™ve tried most of my life to bend it to my will.

Iā€™m not God. I wouldnā€™t want that job. Believe it or not šŸ˜‰

So now I need faith. How do you believe in something that was never a natural part of your life. Something youā€™ve tried to learn logically while you still have oxygen in your lungs.

Iā€™ve been in a hurry to learn love, until love had its way with me.

Iā€™ve put all the narratives down. The shields. The sword.

I am naked.

Bare.

My story is all that stands left, unedited. No parts cut out. The whole thing.

Here I am.

It all matters to me.

Iā€™ve put pathologizing down too. Trying to keep others safe from me, just in case, and instead causing harm any way. And Iā€™ve had harm caused to me. Itā€™s all part of living. No one is getting out of here alive.

Iā€™m sober. I may not stay that way forever but right now I canā€™t afford emotional ups and downs more than I already have as an artist. I feel everything all the way through.

Everything except compassion for myself, for having survived this all or nothing existence, cut off from my own emotions.

My whole life Iā€™ve been a coping mechanism, and now Iā€™m healing into a human, and Iā€™d almost prefer to go back, because the breaking and resetting is excruciating. There is no description that does it Justice. Yet šŸ˜‰

I finally understand why people give up. I really do.

Itā€™s not in my nature and my work is too vital. Those are my main motivators right now.

Most days Iā€™m in agony and Iā€™ve been ashamed of that. Like it might rub off on someone, like they can catch it. Like Iā€™m supposed to just be ok and move on, because if not Iā€™m sick like my mom. Always this demon lurking over me. Accidentally watched White Oleander the other night before bed. Not a good idea. Give me a good Disney movie. Oops.

Iā€™ve been purging demons lately. Thatā€™s what trauma work is, quite literally. Itā€™s what being possessed isā€¦..

In giant waves of illness and stillness and comfort and rest after. The migraine melts immediately as soon as the true root of the pain is expressed. The robbing vice releases, and I can stop throwing up.

I havenā€™t thrown up since I was young.

Too much control. Too little love.

Now I have it all around it and I am it, and Iā€™m adjusting. Why is love an itchy wool sweater for me?! Thereā€™s more than the judgment, there are other things too.

Iā€™ll write them out. Iā€™ll go in. Iā€™m all in. Committed.

I began a new journal today, and ended my hamsa one yesterday. This one is all black with a skull and four gold leaves on the cover. It smells of Italian leather and reminds me of DĆ­a De Los Muertos. Makes sense and is a good dead of winter book.

Maybe it will contain more about all my dead selves than Iā€™ve ever captured before.

Iā€™m in writing immersions with Victoria Erickson. Learning to allow my life force and energy to flow, come what may.

Slowly working on home improvements. New office carpet, stairs and a railing going in, in the next few weeks. Itā€™s so cozy in my sacred space. Just want to make sure itā€™s safe for my clients.

I made a contractor friend who is going to teach me how to do dry wall, and a few new things.

If Iā€™m not learning Iā€™m not happy. Thatā€™s a fact.

I want to learn everything all the time.

Iā€™m beginning Barbara Streisandā€™s new memoir ! I love it already sheā€™s so funny and real.

I am scheming a project to write my barberā€™s memoir. Itā€™s been a spark for a long time. If youā€™re a person of the passionate variety, thatā€™s all you need, and pretty soon it will catch fire.

I finally had the courage to pitch it, after last haircut. Today the spark became lit. Heā€™s excited.

Iā€™m hoping the practice will help me unlock mine. Not doing it alone helps.

Go Easy on Me just came on.

Flying twin b home from Florida for Thanksgiving. We will all be together in this home. Thatā€™s all I want is family. Itā€™s all Iā€™ve ever wanted really. No fight about where anyone will go, just offering love, and allowing those who want to gather.

To love my work, to be cozy with a good book by the fire, to continue to learn, and to connect with other human stories like myself, and share.

Iā€™m the most myself Iā€™ve ever been, and itā€™s been so much to get here. I cannot even tell you. Thereā€™s still so much work to do, it will never be done, but Iā€™m so happy doing it.

Iā€™m in uncharted waters. Exhausting and exciting. Always keep curiosity just a little bit larger than fear.

Iā€™m burning off layers and layers of shame and pain. With every mile, every word penned, every sunrise and set.

Letting Go

All my love,

C

Evermore this Love Affair with Me. Getting to Know her.

ā¤ļøšŸ’œ 11:11 published

Iā€™m having a mad love affair with the song evermore this morning. I want to touch the keys of my piano and tune my ear to the sounds. The ones that make people feel. Rhythm that canā€™t be ignored. A siren call. Satellite call.

So many empty hours before me wanting, needing.

No desperation,

only stillness.

Iā€™m learning a course in miracles, lesson 8 this am is about how the egoic mind clings to the past and creates it to replay over into your present unless you become aware of this.

The only true thought is that the past is no longer present: makes room for new creation.

New lessons,

rather than loops of old ones,

chasing your tail.

Iā€™m getting used to these orthotics. Right now arch support feels like arch assault. But I think ultimately the whole posture is positively impacted by the right nurturing. Isnā€™t that about right for a metaphor for life.

I saw killer of the flower moon yesterday. The new Scorsese film. Really eye opening. So much to unpack there about manipulation, privilege, and a whole variety of things.

I enjoy seeing movies in the theater. What Iā€™m really finding important about this now is not multi tasking. Just being present and absorbed into someoneā€™s creation. So many pieces went into it.

How good it feels to be with the present moment. And there are many ways thatā€™s hard also. The losses creep up and haunt.

While what might have been no longer consumes me, itā€™s sometimes a bitter pill.

This is where faith is really important. And letting go of control.

Allowing

Thatā€™s my current mission.

Tonight is family time at the Figg cooking school.

A friend is visiting. Iā€™ve known him since way back, he visits every year, and every year itā€™s a motivator to plan things together. Kinda sounds like family right ?! That elusive promised thing, that was so missing for so long.

But look at me I make one wherever I go. I create family easily, and that requires an open heart. Before it was at times a desperate act without enough thought to not also create harm. Iā€™m sorry.

No

Iā€™m really sorry.

Sorry doesnā€™t cover it. For irresponsible actions on my part that caused pain. And Iā€™m also aware if we are going to risk anything in this lifetime hurt will happen. I will not use that as a justification, but I will use the understanding to allow healing.

Thatā€™s where I am right now.

I walk, I think, I read, I love, I understandā€¦..

Funny Miley Cyrus is now singing I miss me more. May I everyone find that really important aspect of love.

In balance with oneā€™s own desires and destiny if you will. If you wonā€™t thatā€™s ok too. My beliefs are solid and also open to modification as I understand more.

Two miles, thatā€™s good for now. I have admin to enjoy doing, and some chores.

I love being in my office. Itā€™s my own home within my home. Sacredness is in there. People come there to heal, to feel their hurts, and I do too. Beautiful love and life.

Tomorrow I write. I canā€™t wait. Iā€™m waiting breathlessly for that ability to be fully me, to fully express everything anything I want.

Writing is safe.

Itā€™s my constant loved one.

Consistency is so nice these days, but also not rigid or caged within it. Consistent forward movement come what may.

Maybe I will ā€¦ā€¦.

All my love,

C

Goals and Accomplishments Musing at Middle Week Rainy Wednesday.

One of my favorite quotes for good measure šŸ’œ

Walking and blogging is the thing today. Rain on shine itā€™s always time to feel relaxed and refreshed, and listening to music of course. This morning itā€™s Is That Alright, a Star is Born.

So Iā€™m on the brink of my 43rd trip around the Sun. I am ahead of time as usual, ironic as so much of my life I agonized about being wrong, bad, and behind. Sigh. All of that stress.

So goals by 45, and then of course we will talk about accomplishments.

To have written one book poetry or otherwise, whether itā€™s published or not doesnā€™t matter. Iā€™ll be notified about next steps after this one thatā€™s dear to my heart.

To be in shape. Be able to do push ups sit ups a pull up within reason. To get where I need to go without being winded. To know and honor how I need to eat and drink for my body to feel secure, and in a good state.

To be caught up professionally with all my CE and getting licensed in the states I want etc, and to feel relaxed about it. October 24, my national certificate requires 100 CE, which should in theory be so easy for me. However, the last ten years has been filled with chaos, stops and starts and a lot of disorganization. Soooooooo. We just clean up. No biggie.

This means an item on my to do I continuously avoid, which is entering the things into NBCC, which requires gathering and finishing some courses. Not a big deal, but do need to put some attention on this, ahora.

Thatā€™s pretty much it. Consistency, follow through.

I have some new interests and the space in my life to pursue. One being New York City. This one has come as a surprise to me. A big one! I used to be so anxious about the city. Which seems silly now. I love the pulse. I love the wandering. I love the people watching. I love the inspiration.

Perhaps itā€™s the resilience and heart that attracts me.

I see it so differently now. Something I used to see as cold and frightening. Is alive with heart and warmth and things to discover.

So Iā€™d like to find an apartment/ space to lease or even just more day trips in and write there.

It has taken a lot of letting go for me to allow life to surprise me a little. This is where Iā€™m at Letting Go of control and allowing life to guide me where it will.

I love this for me.

I am writing. Tuesdays 6-9, and Sundays 12-3 in an immersion that is allowing myself to be shaken loose from all the debris in there. Glaciers melt. Heart opens. Here we are !

I get to get to know me. A privilege. Itā€™s a privilege to know this is an option. That I could be enthusiastic about it. Who knew ?!

Iā€™m allowing myself to allow writing to be my priority without judging it, criticizing, avoiding, deflecting. Yes I have done those things, do them at times.

Banishing the internal abuser, is a big part of my work right now. On the other side of that process awe awaits.

True juicy moments filled with heart and humanity.

Ok so accomplishments. When I look out into my life I see that Iā€™ve raised three humans. I canā€™t even believe I just wrote that. Iā€™ve raised three humans that are full of heart and have strong minds and I couldnā€™t be more proud. Especially since along their journey at times they were left to raise themselves while I needed to rise, and at times they had to raise me.

I am allowing myself to let go of the shame and guilt around that so I can be free to love better now, especially them.

To make you feel my love, is my mission. That I take care of myself in such a way that, those around me can feel my love in a way thatā€™s nourishing.

And the truth is Iā€™m still learning how to nourish myself. Iā€™m so grateful to be here now alive, and able to pursue this. Me, myself.

Itā€™s a miracle.

Itā€™s not small task.

And I couldnā€™t be more excited about it.

The icing of accomplishments is healthier relationships with my children and myself.

A thriving and vibrant career thatā€™s alive and well, and with no more panic about really every single thing.

I cannot believe how long I survived living in the state I was, and what it was doing to my body. It makes me tear up just thinking about it. Or should I say makes my eyes sweaty.

My thoughts were going a mile a minute. So perhaps one of my greatest accomplishments is being in my body, a continuous returning, and living to tell the tale.

I can organize and relax now.

And ā€¦.

Write

All my love,

C

Ps a new writing Instagram may be under way. Iā€™m told I need a social media presence for my writing. We will see given my aversion to social media these days, how this goes. I am excited about learning. Always excited about learning, and thereā€™s always something to learn.

Stephen King Octoberā€™s and Writerā€™s Who Keep Getting Back up and Tryingā€¦..

Normalizing this šŸ’œšŸ’œšŸ’œā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļø

I realize itā€™s been too long since Iā€™ve written in here. Beginning again requires no grand gesture, except to splay my words upon the page.

Life is so different now than itā€™s ever been for me.

The kitchen window is open. I can hear the cars splashing through the wet pavement on High st. Thereā€™s a bathroom window open, and itā€™s making a door creak slightly every so often.

Iā€™m reading Stephen Kingā€™s Needful Things. Marveling at how he takes a concept and a belief of his, sets it to quirky characters. Creates a setting based on a place he loves, and takes his shot. His art. How small town washed up people become prone to obsession over items that bring them nostalgia or comfort. What they are willing to do to anyone, to be able to feel better.

In the movie, a young Ed Harris plays Alan Pangborn, the town sheriff. The book is better of course.

I marvel at how I can read a chilling description of two women killing each other and not be kept up at night. Perhaps my ability to find the art in this fiction stays my traumatized mind from its post. I typical do not like to fill it with horror. I have enough reels of my own, should I want a chill during spooky season.

Iā€™m mostly focused on being present. And realizing how much I wasnā€™t. How unwell and dissociated I had been a lot of my life, without really being aware of it. That has been a slow burn. Burning off shame. Shedding self-consciousness ,and seeing what lies under all of that.

Thatā€™s where I am.

Itā€™s a process that requires time and cultivating, and Iā€™m committed.

Iā€™m still figuring out balance with that regard.

Since Iā€™m forty I moved wrong the other day. I am now on steroids and doing physical therapy two times weekly. Lol. So thatā€™s happening. I used to freak at the smallest setback physically. So now I just allow life to pause me when needed.

I began working with a new client last night. They work in a profession Iā€™m intrigued with. The person was very solid and grounded, and my energy matched suit during the session. The person is in their 60ā€™s so that makes sense. Of course thatā€™s not the only factor. But I really enjoyed holding space for their story, and having the privilege of them entrusting their heart and pain to me upon our first meeting.

Peopleā€™s beautiful resilience and heart captivate me in such a way. I am starting to be able to believe I could be captivating too.

Without being constantly pushed by any force to get out into the world, I now believe it is beginning to happen naturally. And I believe those that have told me the world needs to hear what I have to say.

So Iā€™m working on gaining security behind my voice. Peeling back layers of shame and trauma that attempt to sabotage my goals and dreams.

I read, I walk, I write, I counsel, I love, and therefore I am.

My relationships with my children are healing nicely. Itā€™s still a lot to be with the ways Iā€™ve caused them pain from my own ignorance and my own traumas. I have to continue to make amends and forgive myself, and thatā€™s no easy feat.

I love my clients past and present. I think about them in my daily life and send them love and light.

I think about my life experiences and those I have loved deeply. With every part of me, and how those experiences have shaped me.

Iā€™m doing a course in miracles.

Iā€™m about to go on a cruise to Bermuda. Only slightly nervous about the possibility of motion sickness, as my body likes to feel firmly planted and in control. Ha, what an illusion. I donā€™t know if that, or the fact I wonā€™t work for 8 ish days is the more frightening prospect. Both are uncharted territory.

Which is a theme lately in my personal counseling. I am in uncharted territory my counselor said to me the other day. Mostly outside my pattern in most way, maybe some days slipping inside it a little.

What can I say Iā€™m a work in progress.

Iā€™m really happy I wrote this post and Iā€™m hopeful Iā€™m ready to make this a weekly if not a daily practice.

Oh and Iā€™m obsessed with learning Spanish on Duolingo. I marvel at how my brain can recall so much and itā€™s just there without even trying. I often struggled at age normative times to learn another language. And itā€™s thrilling to realize that was likely because so much space was taken in my brain by hyper vigilance.

I marvel at the gift of being able to be understanding of myself now, and to be able to communicate in a way I feel understood, which is the real magic.

My heart is continuing to open. Iā€™m more consistent with so many things, and thatā€™s a path Iā€™m very grateful to be walking. No longer beating myself into submission. Less remissions, sparsely placed omissions. Oh there I go rhyming. Canā€™t help it.

All my love,

C

Sometimes Love is Just Tryingā€¦.

Iā€™m listening to Zach Bryan.

Sometimes I wonder if Iā€™ll end up returning to my grocery store roots, due to the simplicity of it all. Or bookstore shelves and handing bags of dreams across the counter and smiling. The smell of coffeeā€¦. Casi Cielo season.

Another trip around the Sun.

A simple beautiful story. Nothing extraordinary. Everything extraordinary. Glorious contradictions. The story of a human life.

A simple life. A person I can be proud of, while also being real and human.

All of it.

One mile no matter what. No matter how cold, how hot, how wet, how tired.

Sometimes a human is a vessel that can hold tremendous amounts of suffering. They can hold more than it appears. We are all just walking around filled with ashes of our burned and dead things, and trying to still smile and function for our whyā€™s.

The only bad thing youā€™ve ever done was to see the good in me. Thatā€™s a sad lyric.

Covid in the rear view and also not, step on those lantern bugs, lions and tigers and masks and then thereā€™s my past. A beast and demon I can never seem to get past.

So I sit and feed the monster all my parts. It stands over me smiling eating my heart.

Now thatā€™s dark.

And thereā€™s light too, and thereā€™s always room.

All I need to do is write and walk.

Itā€™s my life and my story and itā€™s big and beautiful and light and dark.

Unbroken

Remember that movie where his strength of mind carried his body through horrors.

Some humans have so much pain to hold.

Sometimes itā€™s too much to take.

All you can do is restā€¦.

See I separated there. You can see the crack, feel the tear.

Try another day and time to do the repairā€¦.

All my love,

C

Sensory Nightmares and Blisses, Pillowy days, and Midnight Kisses

Time and Moments are all there isā€¦. In the wanting so much is lost.

And Iā€™m thinking about scarcity and what it does to a person. Autocorrect has changed that to for, and I pause for a moment to ponder if it may have known something I didnā€™t. Except it will always be a program and I more complex.

This morning I finished my 12th book of the year. 30 was the goal I set and I think Iā€™ll set it to 60 nextā€¦.. why so high ?! Not so Iā€™m forced to meet it, but because itā€™s what I want.

I can choose what I want and donā€™t have to remain programmed.

A beautiful human thing.

Iā€™m wise enough to know that I needed enough abundance to be here now, and that I didnā€™t create it alone. But I am the one making the time to reflect and get this journey down. And without knowing what that will become.

That is trustā€¦..

As someone who has experienced many births and many deaths I feel such a parallel to Adeline, the Invisible Life of Addie Larue. I finished itā€™s pages this morning. I read other things too, in this meantime.

So many full circle things right now and strange things are happening, real ones.

No longer all or nothing relationships with anything.

And Iā€™m falling in love with nuance and mystery. With being able to be surprised. Not starving when Iā€™m hungry. Not dead when I am hurt.

Does this change the curse?

The fairytale ?

My relationships are softer with more room to grow especially the one I now have with me. I trust her.

I lived in my head

Not on the earth

Now after so many rebirths

Iā€™m grounded

And ready for real love

Mine

If I trust me I donā€™t need to trust you,

But I want to

Itā€™s a work in progress

She says to her

I

All the sensory stimuli that created fear and pain, works the other way too.

It makes life burn so bright without an illusion of poison and pain seducing meā€¦ reducing me to a primal self.

I can be primal without the pain.

Sing and dance in the rain

Not spend all my time calculating possible losses and gains

Lost in my brain

Drained

Stained with the blood of our broken hearts

Now itā€™s in a vial around my neck

Not so strange when you understand it

Anyway Iā€™m walking and breathing, sensing and reeling

What is this feeling ?

We went to visit a past life the other day, I held a baby boy that could have been mine if I had stayed. I enjoyed the presence I felt, the invitation, the welcome and the warmth.

Those that can hold space for nuance in a human journey.

And it has nothing to do with making new sets of rules or burning others.

Itā€™s a cool surrender.

My love is a part of their world now and theirā€™s will always be a part of mine.

Thatā€™s what connection does. It can be nurtured or not, but like energy it isnā€™t destroyed. Transmuted or redistributed maybe.

Our will and choices are what we have to manipulate.

More to life than being locked in a relationship with controlling emotions, when all you had was fear anyway.

Wanting will kill you if you canā€™t appreciate being. The simple things.

I appreciate time and will make anything out of what I have.

I no longer need to know the exact right formula before moving. I never did really, but oh did I get lost in the story.

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