No More Nightmares on Mother’s Days

I believe this will be my first Mother’s Day I am not haunted. If you could ….

I will not lose my life force in being haunted by the things that have hurt. I will rise above them and sit peacefully sharing the knowledge that has been hard earned.

I finished Dune book one this morning. So much in there. I think of the foreshadowing of Ulay, how I became the bomb, and 90 days and everything in between.

I think of how next week I’ll sit at my daughter’s graduation and instead of wanting to crawl out of my skin w sensory overload I will own my seat. I will bask in the glow of our accomplishment having the difficult bloodline we have. Very little support, and also so much, just from a different form, a harder one to recognize or acknowledge for it requires belief.

I will be able to feel why I am there, what we are celebrating, rather than a desperately disconnected seeking numbness that pervaded everything and mirrored back such awkward desolation.

New lands…..

Belief is a powerful thing. May I always examine mine carefully to make sure it is from love and not fear, for the rest of my days.

I must not live haunted because if I do I cannot learn. I need all my focus and all my heart open to the world, so I can receive also.

To make you feel my love. My love will be felt. Not just my fear. The heroes journey.

To have alchemized scarcity and hardship into peace and abundance.

I had never planned so far that I’d make it out alive, because it never felt that way.

Awake is all I can ask for. Not existing inside a story or the bonds only of fear and trauma. A lineage I refuse to pass down.

And now I rest….

I got a b12 injection yesterday for the first time since November. Sometimes I forget I was ever so sick at all. Those people treat me like the best thing since sliced bread and I chuckle to myself of all the time I spent in a dark cloud of feeling unloved.

Love was all around. Love is….

There are turning points. New chapters. New books to be read and to be written.

For nearly 43 years holidays (so many of them) have been a nightmare. The nightmares held me captive even when some were good but inside all that roiled and rose up like bile. being told I should appreciate with little understanding, and worse treating myself that way.

A good little soldier

I will not allow it to persist into 44.

Another turning point.

A million lives within a life….

And I have every part of my story inside me and I won’t cut off a single thing.

A whole

Shattered segments gathered and made whole with gold….

Happy Mother’s Day to all the loyal curse breakers just doing their best with impossible tasks everyday.

I love you all more than you can imagine

And to the lost ones….. my people also

My heart is with you

There is light

With great courage there is light and your path is your own.

Trust yourself always

Sensitive is The New Strong, Dying to be Me.

“And you’ve come from a good place with a happy family, the only bad thing you’ve ever done was to see the good in me. Find someone who plants flowers in the darkest parts of you.”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 I’m reading Anita Mooriani’s Sensitive is the new strong. It was around 2013, while working amidst the produce at Trader Joe’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: “you can’t unknow what you know” stands out to me, about any experience we have really.

I sit and think why didn’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 don’t think long on it now because there’s life to be lived and joy to be had, and of course because this is me, work to be done.

So I’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. It’s my new favorite written show. So much in there that makes you think, triggers and epiphanies alike. Of course because it’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. I’m not naive to the knowledge without a written script many of us didn’t get that, or dole it out.

But it’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.

I’m a UConn Husky Mom now! That’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. I’m hopeful to rise to that occasion, even if that means allowing myself to sit and read a novel in an afternoon, without feeling I’ve missed a thing.

I don’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. It’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 water….

And then to enter the day.

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

I’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 wasn’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.

My empathy is ironic don’t you think…..

“I am out with lanterns looking for myself”

I was called to my water to write this morning. I just got waxed, ow. Sometimes I feel half my life is concerned with hair removal. Did you chuckle ? I did. But for real it’s not even about how I look, it’s a sensory thing.

I am finally accepting my high sensitivity and empath ness and trying to work with it rather than deny, minimize, outright reject, or attempt to reverse the adaptation that’s about being adaptable. Ironic isn’t it.

A barrier to this was always worrying about being grandiose or the way some people use being an empath in toxic ways. As always if you’re worried about it it’s probably not something to worry about.

So can I finally accept my birthright and my gift and use it to help me achieve a better quality of connection to myself and the universe.

That’s a resounding yes !

Speaking of ironic Alanis and the episode of we can do hard things on high sensitivity! Boom. It is ironic oh yes I really do think.

Time seems my most elusive currency lately. How lucky am I that my life is one where I want more time to do and experience the things I love.

How lucky am I that I’m working at better understanding myself, and having a healthier relationship with me.

It turns out I’ve been looking for her in everything, and everyone, and everywhere she’s not.

Inside of me.

So that’s what I’m spending the most of my valuable currency on.

Writing my poem, my story, my lyrics, my melody, my script and on and on.

I have so many things to write about, but sometimes once I open the post I just relax so much nothing intelligible comes. It’s when I don’t have the pressure of the page that my thoughts float gently to the surface of my consciousness and tickle my fancy.

My fantasy

Lately I’ve been loving the lyrics of Zach Bryan. My girls led me to him. Some of them are just well wow. Your head in my neck is weightless.

This morning I’m re reading The Highly Sensitive Person I love and it’s already blowing my mind, in showing my experience to me with a lens that helps me cope.

Deep and profound love is often the kind that doesn’t last, and then there’s the kind that does that is also those things.

I was trying to crack the code on love using logic. Now that’s ironic.

Now I’m using all of it, and most often working to get the story straight, keep it simple and direct, and develop a consistently healthy relationship with myself.

The work is delicious, no longer a burden. I am blessed.

The work takes the charge out of the pain, rather than rivers of it threatening to flood at anytime. I’m building a dam. Speaking of that I’m often thinking lately of slowly doing more DIY things. Like fix the drywall in my basement. I’m not sure yet whether that’s an idea and my schedule and sensory stuff means it’s not really conducive. Stay tuned on that one.

I’m watching this is us, and oh my god the triggers and the insight and bliss. Kevin’s twins being born and just watching the trials of these three’s lives. The nuance and the variety of topics covered in this way.

I’m enjoying it immensely….. not have I enjoyed a timing of a show to show me some things since Six Feet Under. This one is a profound love.

I’m reading Dune which is so odd for me. It is and it isn’t. What I appreciate is being attuned to intuition and that that is real.

I want my dreams back, and to be connected. I am figuring it out. Softening, thawing, warming, while also reinforcing my non-negotiables and boundaries.

It’s absolutely pouring.

The waves are crashing around the cement dock that I’ve walked to the edge of so many times and felt like I was standing in the middle of the ocean. Like I could walk on water. Don’t worry no delusions of grandeur here.

Anyway I have more to say later probably or tomorrow. I’m needing woods and water and empty hours.

All my love,

C

Have I Really Gone my Whole Life Without Knowing How to Breathe….

Just breathe they said ….

I had so much pain I never dealt with. I’m only just coming to terms with how compartmentalized I was and the whys and the how’s of it.

I went swimming yesterday. Floundering awkward. More tuned to everyone else at first hyper vigilant non breathing. As it turns out rhythm and breathing is essential to swimming and well every other aspect of life.

I used to experience such shame for being so out of sync and step with those that were given acceptance and love.

I could feel it radiating through me as if I myself were a neon (because I was born in the 80’s it’s neon lol) beacon of different.

I am trying to wear that proudly now and to teach as I go. To advocate for myself and others to not be silent or more accepting. To not cut off parts of our stories or ourselves in favor of making other people more comfortable. I won’t.

In fact I am doing the opposite I’m excavating my story and working at believing it myself, getting it down, getting it out, writing it.

This is not easy. I have a thousand suitcases (white oleander reference), and it’s so overwhelming to even try. It makes me short of breath to even try.

So that’s where I am. I won’t be ashamed or change trajectory for anything. This is me.

I’m doing all body therapies currently and stretching only to my edge moderately until the muscle gives a little. Gentle yoga. Regular kills me still. Being in the water. Taking too much in, feeling headachy from being stiff and awkward and scared.

Just breathing …. Acknowledging…. Being with….

I took this season of writing immersion off to better balance some other things that need attending to and I’m scared shitless to lose the flow I found. But I often share in sessions we can’t lose “the work” it’s integrated and part of us. Accessible anytime, think Dorothy and her Ruby slippers.

I am reading It’s Not You by Dr. Ramani, I read it in like a day. That’s what happens when material makes you feel seen, you know it’s for you. I am reading Fight Right, which helps me hone my relational skills. I am reading Lessons in Chemistry. I am reading the list goes on!

I am watching This is Us. I’m shocked I missed the bus on this emotion porn, but also grateful because any sooner and I think it would have just made me feel worse about myself.

To speak to that I read something in Dr Ramani book, about permanent grief. Is that what I’ve been in?! That would make sense why I didn’t even know or couldn’t even feel other ones at times.

I became a doing. There was no being. And what has brought this so boldly into my attention is how my children felt in relation to me. As if their only value is when they are doing. Oh the heartbreak and regret.

So I’m working at becoming an open hearted and loving human being literally one minute at a time. The guards are many and they are intense. I have body guards upon body guards that I never asked for. Constantly telling me what I can and cannot do.

So much control. Lose control. No control. All control. Organize around others. Perform.

No breathing. No living.

So now I’m figuring out what this living thing is all about. Making friends with my emotions and my body. Introducing myself to them. We are pioneering uncharted waters here. So I guess it’s way finding then.

That makes sense !

Anyway that’s it for now but there may be more posts as I spend time with me this weekend.

First it’s a long walk for the dog and then gentle yoga and then massage.

First we learn to breathe, then we try to live.

Love,

C

Purging Demons in the Night, Writing About it in Dawn’s Light

“I’m out of my mind but still I’m holding on like a rolling stone. A thousand miles from anywhere.”

I’m soft and squishy this morning. The aftermath of another wave of grief. My grief is very physical. This episode I didn’t see coming. It’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 can’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 I’ve tried my whole life.

Having so little experience with the stuff, I’ve tried most of my life to bend it to my will.

I’m not God. I wouldn’t want that job. Believe it or not 😉

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

I’ve been in a hurry to learn love, until love had its way with me.

I’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.

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

I’m sober. I may not stay that way forever but right now I can’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 I’ve been a coping mechanism, and now I’m healing into a human, and I’d almost prefer to go back, because the breaking and resetting is excruciating. There is no description that does it Justice. Yet 😉

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

It’s not in my nature and my work is too vital. Those are my main motivators right now.

Most days I’m in agony and I’ve been ashamed of that. Like it might rub off on someone, like they can catch it. Like I’m supposed to just be ok and move on, because if not I’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.

I’ve been purging demons lately. That’s what trauma work is, quite literally. It’s what being possessed is…..

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 haven’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 I’m adjusting. Why is love an itchy wool sweater for me?! There’s more than the judgment, there are other things too.

I’ll write them out. I’ll go in. I’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 Día De Los Muertos. Makes sense and is a good dead of winter book.

Maybe it will contain more about all my dead selves than I’ve ever captured before.

I’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. It’s so cozy in my sacred space. Just want to make sure it’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 I’m not learning I’m not happy. That’s a fact.

I want to learn everything all the time.

I’m beginning Barbara Streisand’s new memoir ! I love it already she’s so funny and real.

I am scheming a project to write my barber’s memoir. It’s been a spark for a long time. If you’re a person of the passionate variety, that’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. He’s excited.

I’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. That’s all I want is family. It’s all I’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.

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

I’m in uncharted waters. Exhausting and exciting. Always keep curiosity just a little bit larger than fear.

I’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.

❤️💜 11:11 published

I’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 can’t be ignored. A siren call. Satellite call.

So many empty hours before me wanting, needing.

No desperation,

only stillness.

I’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.

I’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. Isn’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 I’m really finding important about this now is not multi tasking. Just being present and absorbed into someone’s creation. So many pieces went into it.

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

While what might have been no longer consumes me, it’s sometimes a bitter pill.

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

Allowing

That’s my current mission.

Tonight is family time at the Figg cooking school.

A friend is visiting. I’ve known him since way back, he visits every year, and every year it’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. I’m sorry.

No

I’m really sorry.

Sorry doesn’t cover it. For irresponsible actions on my part that caused pain. And I’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.

That’s where I am right now.

I walk, I think, I read, I love, I understand…..

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

In balance with one’s own desires and destiny if you will. If you won’t that’s ok too. My beliefs are solid and also open to modification as I understand more.

Two miles, that’s good for now. I have admin to enjoy doing, and some chores.

I love being in my office. It’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 can’t wait. I’m waiting breathlessly for that ability to be fully me, to fully express everything anything I want.

Writing is safe.

It’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 …….

All my love,

C

Goals and Accomplishments Musing at Middle Week Rainy Wednesday.

One of my favorite quotes for good measure 💜

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

So I’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 it’s published or not doesn’t matter. I’ll be notified about next steps after this one that’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.

That’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 it’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 I’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 I’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. It’s a privilege to know this is an option. That I could be enthusiastic about it. Who knew ?!

I’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 I’ve raised three humans. I can’t even believe I just wrote that. I’ve raised three humans that are full of heart and have strong minds and I couldn’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 that’s nourishing.

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

It’s a miracle.

It’s not small task.

And I couldn’t be more excited about it.

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

A thriving and vibrant career that’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 ….

Write

All my love,

C

Ps a new writing Instagram may be under way. I’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 there’s always something to learn.

Stephen King October’s and Writer’s Who Keep Getting Back up and Trying…..

Normalizing this 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️

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

Life is so different now than it’s ever been for me.

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

I’m reading Stephen King’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.

I’m mostly focused on being present. And realizing how much I wasn’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.

That’s where I am.

It’s a process that requires time and cultivating, and I’m committed.

I’m still figuring out balance with that regard.

Since I’m forty I moved wrong the other day. I am now on steroids and doing physical therapy two times weekly. Lol. So that’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 I’m intrigued with. The person was very solid and grounded, and my energy matched suit during the session. The person is in their 60’s so that makes sense. Of course that’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.

People’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 I’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. It’s still a lot to be with the ways I’ve caused them pain from my own ignorance and my own traumas. I have to continue to make amends and forgive myself, and that’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.

I’m doing a course in miracles.

I’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 don’t know if that, or the fact I won’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 I’m a work in progress.

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

Oh and I’m obsessed with learning Spanish on Duolingo. I marvel at how my brain can recall so much and it’s just there without even trying. I often struggled at age normative times to learn another language. And it’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. I’m more consistent with so many things, and that’s a path I’m very grateful to be walking. No longer beating myself into submission. Less remissions, sparsely placed omissions. Oh there I go rhyming. Can’t help it.

All my love,

C

Sometimes Love is Just Trying….

I’m listening to Zach Bryan.

Sometimes I wonder if I’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 coffee…. 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 why’s.

The only bad thing you’ve ever done was to see the good in me. That’s a sad lyric.

Covid in the rear view and also not, step on those lantern bugs, lions and tigers and masks and then there’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 that’s dark.

And there’s light too, and there’s always room.

All I need to do is write and walk.

It’s my life and my story and it’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 it’s too much to take.

All you can do is rest….

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

Try another day and time to do the repair….

All my love,

C

Sensory Nightmares and Blisses, Pillowy days, and Midnight Kisses

Time and Moments are all there is…. In the wanting so much is lost.

And I’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 didn’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 I’ll set it to 60 next….. why so high ?! Not so I’m forced to meet it, but because it’s what I want.

I can choose what I want and don’t have to remain programmed.

A beautiful human thing.

I’m wise enough to know that I needed enough abundance to be here now, and that I didn’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 trust…..

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 it’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 I’m falling in love with nuance and mystery. With being able to be surprised. Not starving when I’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

I’m grounded

And ready for real love

Mine

If I trust me I don’t need to trust you,

But I want to

It’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 me… 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 it’s in a vial around my neck

Not so strange when you understand it

Anyway I’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.

It’s a cool surrender.

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

That’s what connection does. It can be nurtured or not, but like energy it isn’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 can’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.

💜