Tag: #lovemakesafamily

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

Like you’ll never be bored ha. I never am. Sometimes I think I’d like to be until I’m actually there.

Then of course I want to be somewhere else.

I’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 doesn’t feel well. How my gut wrenches when she wretches. But this is the price of admission and I’d gladly pay double, and it’s taken me a long time to get here.

I’m grateful beyond words lately.

Surrendered, open, loving, letting go. And boy is that difficult for me, to stay consistent with that. It’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.

I’ve had such artful posts flow through my mind the past couple of days but couldn’t get it down and that’s ok. It’s softer now. There’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 I’ve done, and with that is all I’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 she’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. I’m here.

My life is not only worth living it’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 wouldn’t move one piece of my puzzle.

This year I’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 children’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 didn’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. I’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.

I’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 there’s some new on that front. I’m beginning a therapeutic memoir writing course in January in addition to the immersion I’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 didn’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 I’ve been given. The ever elusive balance.

There’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.

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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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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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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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Darken The City, Night is a Wire…. Do do do do do do dooooo do.

Do you believe in signs ?! …..

I’m at the New York Athletic Club, in the city that never sleeps. It doesn’t but believe me I do, or there is hell to pay. I’m old now 😉 I was old from the start, even when I was new.

I found out recently I was premature. 5 lbs 2 oz. I believe. I wonder what I was exposed to inside of her. From what I knew outside the odds aren’t in my favor.

I have these new connections with family that feel very grounding and positive and this morning I’m in awe and contemplation.

Is this what most of the other people I know have always had, just naturally. This feeling that they won’t just fly out into space at any moment.

A dear friend once said to me to keep defying gravity. Gravity I think. The invisible force that tethers one to earth. I was untethered and often unbridled and my defense system would shout that I wouldn’t change a thing. But now that I know what I know. You can’t unknow and all of that. I can’t even say that.

What is this feeling?

A feeling of solidness, inhabiting my body. Being at a dinner party with famous Broadway actors and actresses and not feeling less something, less anything.

Famous didn’t matter. It was an intimate gathering, natural. All people passionate about their arts. Some happy and fulfilled, some not as much. There were also wounds at that table. We all have them, some are just more apparent than others.

Yesterday we went to Westsider Rare and Used bookstore. I want to ravage every single one in this city. To touch every spine, cover, and page. To know which one I like best. To feel the knowledge pressing in around me, to hear all the voices of all of those brave writers that made it to the point where they were bound, gathered, and artfully decorated.

I’m ready for a cover and a title and a brand. Brand new. Look at you Christina. You can be and do anything. So what will it be? The crushing weight of possibility. No more crushing weight, only an unbearable lightness of being, he just died recently by the way.

One of the great loves of my life, very early on, came upon me reading Milan Kundera, the book of the very name of above, in a break room in a Trader Joe’s. I had a wedding ring on. I had more naïve enthusiasm than most would know what to do with at that time

All balls and no brain. Which is exactly what I needed to propel me out of a life I was not meant for.

I’ve been shot out of a cannon many times since so to speak. Jet propulsion. My swift expulsion from everything comforting. Including my self concept. Which is more than jarring, it’s actually quite alarming: disarming.

Apparently I’m a wrapper. Who knew. How much is channeled by my early days of resonance with Eminem’s music. Curtain Call. Relatable. It’s not debatable. My mind likes to rhyme.

One of my book store picks this time at random is Junot Diaz This is How You Lose Her. The cover looks interesting, actually not really so much. His name was in a compilation of writers on writing and this made me curious who he is as a writer.

I watched Ammonite the other day. I am haunted by it lately. Still sorting out what that is about. Can’t stop rhyming. Everything in divine timing….

A walk in the park and a stationary store before heading home on the train today. Muji…. I’m told the pages are creamy, buttery, gold.

I just sent out for my passport yesterday. And got two sheets of stamps. I love them. I got Toni Morrison ones and Love ones with puppy’s and hearts.

Here at the NYAC there’s an old fashioned looking letter drop. Between that and the stamps I want to write letters. The art of the letter is long lost.

I write letters that will never go to their recipients, ones only I will ever see. So many of the connections in my life are like that. Extinguished and never without good reason.

I spent so much time second guessing myself. Only to end up here where validation is around every corner and I am safely held.

I just put three new clients on the books yesterday morning. These are a little out of my comfort zone, something I haven’t done in awhile. Hopefully the freshness will be good for all involved.

Fresh eyes, no lies.

The truth will set you free. It always does. There are times I haven’t wanted to be free. I wanted to be held.

You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need.

Ok for now back to writing and exploring this iron jungle melting pot, before it gets too hot.

Stay Tuned ….

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Learn From Everything… Heart Openings. Family Ties….

I choose to learn from those that are loving.

So it’s a Saturday morning. Most of the years of my life I would have been working right now. In fact I had been seeing the same client at that time for about 6 years now I believe. They are now in a different time slot.

This is maybe my seventh Saturday, but whose counting 😉 I now have two full real estate days to create, work, play, etc from…. I can see a favorite plant on the deck in my view right now. I’m a little chilly so before I continue I’ll put on my Untamed zip up and heat my coffee that I still haven’t drank yet.

How many times will I heat this thing up. And life isn’t even busy. Usually we make ourselves busy. Today I’m enjoying some love cleaning. Not to be confused by rage cleaning, neurotic cleaning, or any other variety. There are so many.

On my mind most lately is alone time. Lake house ? Maybe?! Monastery? Maybe. It feels so aggrandizing to speak of feeling closer to spiritual enlightenment and yet I think that’s true. It’s just pure peace. Knowing you can have all the knowledge but not a breathless need to practice it, especially on someone else.

On my mind lately is also the organization of finances and how the hell does anyone decide what to spend on and what not to if you’re being mindful.

I’m tired of mindless. And while most things in my life or not I fall into spending habits that are more behavioral and unconscious than I prefer. So I’m working on that. I’m sure any readers can relate to the amount of money spent on Amazon monthly. Even a business write off, because most are books, is not a justification I can endure any longer.

I crave moving towards minimalism and away from anything I don’t need. I crave to simplify stuff and amplify experiences. However I have a tendency to do the opposite.

I’m currently reading the War of Art by Steven Pressfield. He wrote the legend of baggar Vance, which I actually don’t know much about. The book is about creativity and resistance. I’ve often said resistance takes many forms and he summarizes that in neat concepts in the book. An easy and powerful read!

I’m also reading The Inner Life of The Counselor by Robert Wicks. The Invisible Life of Addie Larue, A Separate Peace, and about a million other things.

I’m taking many less baths, which is interesting. Hmmm I could take one now actually. Not a bad idea. I’m working my way through all or nothing behavior as well as thinking. Challenging it.

I tend to be all in my head and not in my body, and when I do get into my body all sorts of complications occur right now. So that’s something I’m being with and sorting through. There are wounds there. There is loss there. That sometimes I just cannot come to grips with.

Through that process I’m learning to be and accept myself and slowly ever so slowly eeking the poison out. The criticism, the gaslighting, the minimizing, the hyper vigilance. The judgment, the fear, the raw pain.

Healing for me, I am finding, is a lifetime art. It doesn’t have to be all dark and storms, even though yes those are there.

Anyway here I am, this is me, working to be wild and free while also contained in a safe land I’m building inside of me.

In the words of Emily Dickinson I’m out with Lanterns looking for myself.

Today’s agenda besides a lunch engagement is to clean my work desk and organize myself to focus on some of my tasks I’ve been procrastinating. An elaborate method of self-harm. But I’m so good at it. But I don’t want to be. Stop it kids. Everyone get along.

My to do list is massive it includes the next wave of changing my last name. All major tasks are done, but smaller ones, weeding out the old (and sacred), the weeds are magical too, the building blocks of my now self were nourished and founded on those.

It includes renewing my passport with my correct info, because I believe some travel is coming up soon. Positano maybe. Looking. Listening.

It includes finishing the process to become licensed in Florida. I will not ever be residing there, I can barely tolerate visiting. But when a beloved long time client relationship moves, you do what you must. And maybe there’s also another reason I don’t know yet.

Then mundane things like paying car taxes and bills, remembering to have the boiler serviced before the season this year etc.

We currently have no washer and dryer, and no flooring in the basement and a mess down there. So calls to the insurance company to follow up are also in order.

Breathe. Breathe is on the list.

And then next week my cousin is coming to visit. An honest to God blood relative that I have a few fond memories with and a felt connection that has spanned the years.

I have become sentimental. Some might say I always was, but I feel the variety maybe of it is different now.

I took a journey on 23 and me and now have three blood relatives I’m in contact with that in enthusiastic about and hold possibility not only for more knowledge about who and where I come from, but also warm, grounding, belonging in the realm of family.

It’s not desperate or seeking. It’s sturdy and profound.

I have also come into contact with my father’s sister and she seems amazing. She calls me niece and it feels nice. Simple and profound. She lives in Washington State near a state forest and that sounds amazing. I feel validated and loved and I never imagined I’d have family I could feel that way with.

Magic is happening. Loss still burns. There are still holidays and birthdays and memories that have left gaping holes. The story can be resolved, but the emotions are much different. They have a mind of their own.

Well that’s all I have for today. I want to KIS, keep it simple and in digestible amounts for now. I’m learning to do that with most things.

All my love,

C

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The Great Adventure of Understanding Me

“You can do something now to live the life you want to live.”

Grrr this was written the other day. And now I’m on a different one but just noticed this didn’t post.

Running book title: Understanding me.

If I wrote a book now that might be what it would be entitled right now. That’s what I’m working at each day.

Now that I’m not desperately trying to understand the actions of someone else (most of the time ;)), I am figuring out what I want, need, etc. Go figure. And also for me, easier said than done.

So today I find myself in the Storrs Library just over the CT state line. I’m here for my insert number here energy healing. I wonder how many that’s a good question.

I went to look it up on Venmo because I’m me, and the internet here inside the library has not lived up to my patience threshold. I crack myself up. So maybe something to get a statistic on later, if I remember. Slim chance.

So I’m sitting in the library with Things That Matter by Joshua Becker on my lap. Knew nothing about this book before I opened it. So far it begs you to ask the question of what you would regret about not finishing in your life. It speaks of a person’s work with the dung and their shared regrets and those commonalities.

It’s talking about how to live focusing (my fear kicks in with self knowledge here, my arch nemesis), on how to achieve the focus necessary to live according to your priorities.

Living in a way that makes a difference and not “wasting” that.

If you were to die today, what one thing (or few things) would you be most disappointed that you weren’t capable to complete.

Let’s see if I can work through mine here. There is the obvious sharing of my story and writing a book, the two may not be mutually exclusive. I’m still figuring out that.

I would regret not having fully apologized to those I’ve loved, where appropriate, based on the understanding I now have of myself.

Perhaps I would regret not giving enough attention to develop a counseling theory or movement based on the knowledge I have.

And not having a healthier relationship with myself, how I treat myself etc.

So I suppose reading this it’s pretty clear I’m on the path. That’s comforting. Seriously.

I just read make it a point to read books from different centuries because it will come from a different perspective and will challenge your thinking in new ways! That’s why East of Eden! Woooo! I’m ahead of the game.

So these are the five regrets people cited…

💜

And our time together today in this blog is almost at a close. I certainly do not regret making this post.

What I learned today is how close I am to living my life in a way that leaves few regrets and I could have lost all of that by obsessing over some of my mistakes and getting lost in them.

Stop it! I say to myself… stop it and carry on.

Onward! (Thanks Liz) and now I can truly embody and feel that message and how you got to it.

All my love, all of it!

C

Ps lately my thoughts are highly influenced by Soul Friends and exploring the connection that have most deeply impacted me, trauma work, understanding what triggers my symptoms and how that affects my life. Also the reading of Come as You Are, as well as Letting Go. Energy healings, movement, nature, self discovery, reflections, and the places that shows or songs or moving or reading take me.

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Just a Pupil in The School of Love…..

Love lift us up where we belong

It’s a gorgeous Sunday. I feel beautiful. Clear and peaceful and calm. Whole. Myself.

I no longer feel I’m outside of my body watching my life, or that I don’t deserve things coming my way today, or any other. Now I say this, but there are moments. The pain is not gone, my trauma is not gone.

I’ve just found a lot more peace in living, created a lot more.

I do however want to write more. I went to Kripalu and that was such an experience and I want to capture it. I made new and dear writer friends. I read bravely, shaking and crying even, but without hesitation and without shame.

I showed up!

I wrote pieces I didn’t know I had in me, many fragments of my life.

Sea glass.

I found myself in others there and vice versa.

I found out I’m a poet, a lyricist, that there’s a rhythm to my writing, and that I’m all in. I knew that. But I don’t mind finding out over and over.

I’m all in. With my whole heart.

This day feels beautiful. It doesn’t just look it. I’m no longer invisible or trying to make myself that way. So much unworthiness is being shedded.

I feel loved. I feel seen.

And I feel felt.

My home is full of loving people and music and food and joy. When I observe from the outside this is what I see and hear. People feel welcome and loved here.

I have new piano lessons that are so much better than the other. And I was able to realize that I didn’t lose any of what I learned (we never do). Once it’s in there it’s in there.

I got paperwork Friday to move forward with changing my name. Yes, I am being adopted at 42 years old, and no I don’t mind the administrative nightmare that ensues. I had been avoiding because of that.

I had a hospital trip last week, and a nurse said my last name and it felt weird. I don’t think I’ve ever felt I belonged to a last name. Sadly even those I share with my children, and is also the name of my business. It would be so easy to go back to that one. And also has the bonus of sharing it with my kids.

I need to belong to myself, and I also want to belong to a family that has known young me, that has shaped me, and that showed up.

I’ve spent long and hard thinking about this and even though I had acceptance and love from a family I kept it at arm’s length because of fear. They will write that on my grave perhaps. I was too afraid to lose it and that they were just being nice and every other fear you can imagine. Judging myself left and right. Analytical to a fault.

I’m done with that. It is with an open heart only, and still some better senses about me, that I choose to embark on the rest of my life.

How did you do it?! Not lose your heart….. it wasn’t easy.

So I am going to be Christina Nicole Jenkins soon.

When I think of love and being loved it’s them that I think of when it comes to family. Them that have known and loved me all the years of my life unconditionally and without expectation or becoming upset with me for the choices I’ve made.

When I think of how I love. How I include my daughter’s boyfriend as he’s one of the family, and holidays, it is them I have modeled the most after. How I have loved friends as my own, my desire to make anyone in my area feel like family. That’s me. That’s my own. It always was.

My first love Michael Jenkins and I… we are still in love. Not the romantic be together kind, but the kind who experienced first love together. I always did wish to marry him, so the last name will do. 😉 I feel warm and safe and seen and felt all these years later with him, and the family who loved me naturally. With him or not. They love me for me.

They just lost a daughter recently. My heart hurts for them. I’m sorry.

So I’m just realizing more recently a lot more about love. What it is. Who I am in its arms. How it’s shaped my life. Whether it was the having of it or the lacking of it. Whether it was lightning bolt love that jolts you awake to so many things, slow love that is learned, love of a friend, love of self, passion, vocation, nature.

What is love is my writing prompt from Melissa. And even if I do know a lot more about what it’s not, I am an eager student.

I used to just go blank when Melissa would ask me anything about me.

So on this Mother’s Day I have a mother and I am a mother, and there’s no internal conflict or pit of pain and despair to be found.

My life is “good enough”, not longing for anything else. Always that burning longing…. a purgatory my childhood years left me to resolve and I’ve turned pain into art.

The art of life itself.

And I love living.

So I’m sitting here pondering the consistent stable things I’ve created this past two years.

I am consistent and committed to my healing. Which includes routines I crave and love. They include exercise, nature, connection, writing, touch, learning, reading, and play. In no particular order because writing would be first, though play in last does track.

And little by little the hyper vigilant guard let’s down my walls and I swim in a sea of love without drowning or jumping out. I’m finding ways to navigate the waters. Ways into and out of myself that are constructive rather than destructive.

It’s not perfect. I’m still doing a lot of grieving. My heart is still heavy in ways that are felt in daily life, especially on holidays, and milestones. There are aches of what was, and what never was. Phantom limbs that tingle. Vivid moments.

I still do grief rituals. Deep moments of allowing. No blocking.

Those are part of life now, and I don’t worry that they will bitter the sweet. They are the product of a life well lived of pursuing that which sets my heart on fire and there’s no shame in that.

I have nothing to be ashamed of or regret, only to peacefully sort my way through gently, ever so gentle with my heart.

Tread softly on me. I have a lot of scars.

I deal with a lot of pain physically and emotionally daily. That’s normal for me. My normal. When I get too down about it life gets harder. When I have some story like I’m meant to be this suffering thing. That’s ridiculous.

I just take things one day at a time and get better at coping with those difficulties and at being at home inside my body and with my wide open heart.

This is where I am 💜

It’s the first Mother’s Day I’ve truly let go and forgiven myself for not being able to stay where I was being harmed. Not wondering if I would attend a funeral for someone who died for me a long time ago. For someone who didn’t consider my well being.

How can a mother ever be that way with a child. I’m not perfect, not near to it, but I’d never give up becoming a mother.

I never give up, and I am loyal when safely connected and seen and felt.

I would have stayed loving her if it wasn’t burning me alive.

She never became a mother.

And thankfully I did and am.

It’s hard to not regret how long it’s taken me to get here. To give without resentment and that edge I always had. It creeps up like bile crawling up my throat. I now know where to put it, and life is much easier.

I want to give now. I’m not as exhausted all the time now.

I want to be a mother and someday a grandmother who my loved ones feel felt by. That I am able to pay attention to them without getting overstimulated, freezing, isolating, fawning, covered in panic.

Separated off in my mind in some terrible intrusion.

So I do the work, walk the line, show up.

I’m emotional often now. Like a raw exposed nerve. Like a burn victim. No longer reacting at every touch. I can lean in to connection and learn.

It’s humbling and rewarding and I am present and accountable.

All my love…

Mom

Ps: oh and the entire reason I began writing was to write about my schedule adjustment, and how that feels, but this feels complete. So next post…. My writing has a mind of it’s own and takes me on the ride.

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Everyone deserves someone who has their back no matter what

Because to take away a man’s freedom of choice, even his freedom to make the wrong choice, is to manipulate him as though he were a puppet and not a person.
Madeline L’Engle

It’s so interesting I’m reading East of Eden right now. Nothing is an accident ever.

Years of generational trauma are coming to a head in my little family. We are all facing our stuff.

I had a dream ……

I think of the beginning of Mama Mia, how many times I watched that movie thinking I just liked Abba. Ha. It took years to click that a movie about a girl who has three father’s that show up all wanting her, was obviously going to tickle my fantasy.

I remember my own father (during a short reconnecting I initiated, it was not a warm reception) mocked me for liking such a corny production. Oh the irony there. He was a smart man from the little I knew him, but severely lacking in emotional intelligence and empathy. Or maybe that’s just because he never continued his connection with me. I most likely will never know. It matters less in this present time. Not as much of a gaping wound.

Mama Mia is an intelligent play with a brilliant cast. You’ll never make me think differently.

I also dreamed of being a good mother, a dream that often felt out of reach. People would try to encourage me, and I would make sure they knew they just didn’t know what lurked inside of me well enough.

But as it turns out if you’re courageous and you don’t give up, you can absolutely attain what you desire.

As a generational curse breaker it was never going to be easy. I couldn’t have imagined it would be this hard, or this worth it.

I stand with the misunderstood and the misunderstanding in their pain, and now I also stand with myself.

My children are strong and beautiful and all heart, at times to their detriment, but that’s normal.

They are kind to others.

My children are kind to others, not perfect. They are kind.

They too are learning to turn their pain into power.

We have been in family therapy for going on three years now. We have all wanted to give up I’d imagine. We have been through therapist’s, and harmed by them at times. Others have helped.

We show up.

It’s often a slow hard slog through painful sludge. At times it’s excruciatingly like being burned alive.

Most of the time I’ve doubted it’s the right thing, as it’s not the popular way. Just let them be kids leave them alone, and do it in a more acceptable way. Make things look better don’t introspect it’s dangerous. I feel the opposite, it’s dangerous to people when you don’t/can’t/ won’t.

Most of my life I’ve doubted the good in me. I’ve spent it separated from myself. That is excruciating. It is torture.

Then I became tortured.

I didn’t want to breathe anymore I was so lost. All of the truths I thought I knew shattered and an even worse view of myself to climb out of.

I stayed the course.

I still have plenty of healing to do. We still have plenty of healing to do. But the heaviness is lifting, and in this new freedom we all attempt to connect naturally as best we can, with no force involved.

No having to constantly control my own emotions or attempting to control anyone else’s so I can have an illusion of safety.

Just a free fall into the clouds. This blissful peace that warms my sore bones.

I feel at times like I’ve been hypnotized or am in an alternate universe. That’s how far away good has felt for me. If something is good it feels like it’s in a dream, foggy ethereal, surreal.

And certainly not mine…..

I remember driving to my office in Fairfield and just asking over and over if this was really my life. I actually was aware how dissociative I was, but I stayed right near me until it was safe enough to embody my body.

As it turns out that can be the most painful “surgery” you may ever endure. Once inside you feel everything via the body.

You feel everything

I feel everything

I am love

You’re love

Misunderstandings won’t keep us apart.