Tag: #lifeinyourownway

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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.

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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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

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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.

💜

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There’s no Wrong way, There’s Nothing Wrong about me….

So I’m on a health kick, actually let’s call it a revolution because it’s a lifestyle change, it’s whole. Rarely in my lifetime have I lost weight in a healthy way. I’m just realizing that now. I’ve lost weight in being devastated or starving myself so I could feel more attractive to someone else but never for me.

I’m realizing how much effort I must put in to trust. To repair my relationship with my own trust. That’s what sobriety is about for me. Repairing my trust in myself. Which a) I don’t think I’ve had much in a consistent way, and b) there were some significant breaks in it that when misunderstood I used my own information against myself. Fell on my own sword.

So now I wield the thing a lot more mindfully.

I wouldn’t say carefully because I have that much self awareness. There’s an edge and a fierceness and a pace of me that I’d like to think is part of my authentic self and there for a reason rather than a set of symptoms. Sorting through my rubble and piecing together a self I want to leave as a legacy has been my life’s work, and I’m less ashamed of that and more proud these days.

A former partner’s spouse has reached out to me. They are moving far away for two years, they asked if we would come have dinner before they leave. I find myself thinking about it this morning. That some of my relationships yielded lifelong bonds where love still exists and is allowed. Nothing wrong about it. Those with healthy boundaries and senses of self are able to do that without there being anything dangerous present.

Clean. Clear. And I can receive that love. And not worry where I belong or drown in a pool or self made shame. We have moved on, we are all adults, and what’s beautiful is what we meant in one another’s lives.

What’s beautiful is the way her wife honors her connection with my children and is open.

I think about some of my pain at a past situation where my reaction appeared not supportive of family first and I almost gaslight myself in hindsight but then I don’t. These days I have my back vehemently. The difference is my feelings on the matter would have been considered as part of the equation.

My greatest work these days is being mindful beyond my trauma reflexes and responses, of how those things affect those I love. I am the worst with affect and effect. Why is that one so hard for me?!

Anyway this morning I’m marveling at how big my family is. Family defined as those that want to be near your energy simply because they appreciate what it brings to their life. That’s the ticket folks. Or it’s my ticket anyway to the show I want to be at.

I am a writer who is writing. I am a mom who is momming. I show the fuck up and I intend to be loud and proud about that without believing it to be grandiosity or demanding or something it’s not. Something I’m not.

Fear will not drive my car, bus, airstream, tank, nervous system, choices, anything. It’ll be buckled into the toddler seat.

We watched instant family last night and I recognize why I get so emotional at that movie now. I relate so much except I never got those parents who didn’t give up on me, and you know what?! I became one anyway, somehow, and I’ve traveled through my own hell to be on the path I am on now.

I’m proud every day of myself. I’ll shout it and fly my flag. So many types of pride for me, in everything I am and everything I will become.

Theories and dreams were always foreshadowing and I recognize that now.

So today I’m two weeks sober. Quitting all addictions that don’t serve me one step at a time. So there’s more room, for learning, for reading, for loving. More room to discover my gifts and to share them. How I want to be living my life.

Anyway I have a client walking down into my office very shortly….

So I’ll write more soon…

But for now you can find me getting consistent about movement, being joyfully in my body and reading and writing….

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Leaving Transactional Love Behind and Beginning Emotional Freedom

Sober Curious

Good morning.

I got nailed by mosquitoes in a short while this morning. Under attack. The rage rises. Story of my life. It rises so quickly at times I admit to myself.

I’m nearing the end of Sober Curious by Ruby Warrington. I’m beginning a Life of One’s Own by Joanna Bigs and probably the Gunkel because it came up so randomly in two of my sessions yesterday and I have it on my shelf. I’m back logged with books as usual, but these days I’m developing a sense of trust in the one I need / want / desire will be there for me and that is all the difference in the world.

Life is in such a transition right now I’m wobbly. I’m having some major major epiphanies. I’m being with myself and not abandoning her and learning to listen and honor. I am unlearning my own self gaslighting in such profound ways. Undoing all those written stories and writing in clarity. It makes me emotional just thinking about it.

I’m thinking about sobriety. Not just alcohol or substance use (by the way the song Angel by The Wings by Sia just came on and it’s perfect I’m head nod writing in resonance with my own journey), but emotional sobriety. Not riding waves of highs and lows, but committed to staying steady. That’s my mission right now.

Earned secure. I’ve been practicing it for years and it’s an ongoing journey not a destination. I’m realizing this as a truth settling into my bones, rather than an idea.

Not what I should want, but what I do want, and need. If I can’t be honest with myself about it how could I have healthy relationships.

I’m updating my bio metaphorically and soon it’s time literally. But I’m also fully committed in my relationships and rooted and I don’t need re-branding or any form of change. That comes anyway like it or not. What I need is to be steady. Stay steady and firm and grounded and clear.

I hate alcohol. I hate it for so many reasons. One of which is it’s seduction that I have ever needed it for any reason. To have or to be fun, more relaxed, let loose. Fuck off. That’s actually not what alcohol has done in my life ever. It has manipulated me.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve manipulated too. It’s not black or white or right or wrong. Just peeling back layers to reveal new skin that has been built under the old. Sloughing off.

I pull away from alcohol and yet I so easily fold to belong and feel accepted and to feel less anxious, but actually if I’m paying attention it does the opposite.

I am sifting through my booze story and remembering the last time I was 7 months sober (but who’s counting because I’m not an alcoholic right ?! Just any other kind of addiction compulsion impulsivity). Ick my own bullshit angers me the most. Deep breathe. I’ve got you. I’m angry and I love you and you’re safe with me most profoundly in that I’m committed to being honest with you (me).

I was 7 months sober, and at the time when I looked back I thought I was doing that so someone else in my life would follow, and in solidarity of their loss of a loved one to alcoholism.

I had all of these stories, none of them were about my relationship to alcohol.

I drink it when I’m in so much pain I can hardly see, and also to “just have fun at social events” I pretend I can without an up and down roller coaster ride of terror. The smell makes my pulse beat faster. The glazed over eyes. I hate the stuff. I want to be clear and slow and peaceful.

A liquid lake of love and learning.

I want to be addicted to learning if anything, but not desperate for it. Allowing of my desires in a safe way.

I don’t want to preach and I don’t have to just because I want to be sober and I will learn to stop ducking gaslighting myself.

I don’t care to debate whether I’m an addict (compulsive comfort seeker) or not. I am. I went years without my emotional needs met, I was always going to be. I’ve allowed myself to involve myself in things unhealthy for me to seek a feeling. I’ll forget everything to that end. I’ll explode my whole life.

What’s interesting about this is it’s also a gaslight. I made the right decisions for me, and I didn’t make them in a way that’s in alignment with who I want to be in certain ways. The right decisions in some wrong ways, welcome to living where we have to learn. Have the space and privilege to do so, and many of us don’t.

If I find myself having to scream to be heard I am in the wrong situation no matter how I feel or how real I think something is.

I was 7 months sober and I can’t even remember the moment I undid it but I know it was to be closer to someone or something and doing the same thing makes me feel that way at such a basic level and I take for granted at times all the work I’ve done to move beyond that.

The first question I asked my now therapist on day one is can something like this really be real. And the answer I’ve found for myself these years later is yes it can and yes it was.

And that doesn’t mean the path is going to take you where you think you want to be. There are some things that may remain a mystery maybe forever.

But one thing that won’t is my own emotions and self concept being in my awareness. I’m attuning to me and I won’t allow anything to change that journey for me. I am learning that those that can see it and appreciate it (me) will show up on their own. I don’t have to fight for love or to be seen. I need only to remove my own blocks to the awareness love has always been my birthright.

Love is my birthright and being loving is meant to be a joy and not an impossible task. I just have lots of rocks to push up hills until each time I’m grateful when I reach the top, even if I just start again tomorrow.

All my love,

C