Art Therapy September 2017

When I think about my loss, I am afraid that I will always be unwanted, alone, and not enough to be fully truly loved by someone... that I won't be enough to accomplish my purpose and be worthwhile... that i will always long for love and can't even love myself enough to not worry about others.  

1. not really surprised by what came up... I knew those were my fears... they haunt me all the time.
2. Every relationship that ends... unwanted staff leave.. abandonment kids move... abandonment people don't reach for me... unwanted, not valued, people are agitated ... i take it personally...
3. my gut is where I feel it... deep like a punch that takes my breath away... it also aches deep in my heart like its oozing blood.
4. In my gut I'm chubby, I think in a big part as a protection to keep my solar  plexus protected to keep pain away from the source of me, my belly button where my connection stated
5.  It felt sad and overwhelming with feeling of not knowing how to kill the room to my fear, of seeing a week... knowing its bullshit but not knowing how to get rid of it for good... how to replace it with a beautiful garden of worth, love, acceptance, surrounded... supported... vibrant... abundant... infinite love joy bliss
6. The root of fears has grown so deep in the rich soil & it grows deeper and stronger and thicker... it consumes my thoughts and feelings... 
7. the root is bland but grows in rich abundant soil filled with judgment... deception and hurt the week reaches and grabs for love in the bright blue world but its ignored and unreached for back because who wants to pick a weed?
8. the root of fear is bigger and stronger and grows
9. stop nurturing the week and root... stop feeding it with hyper grow
10. no... they are the beliefs that pop up on a regular basis... they are deep in my soul. 

Riverwriting... September 15, 2017

The last few months i have sat on her couch unraveling... holding a pillow over my chubby belly and explaining the art, I've drawn to figure me out... wondering why I feel so deep in my core... unwanted... easy to abandon... her words yesterday telling me what I already knew... that I focus on those who don't get me, and beg them to instead of just turning and looking at the eyes that adore me... the hearts that reach mine... I look at each of your faces and I see the circle I love, the women who make me stronger and who show me how to love me.  
How fine it is to not know everything, but how exquisite it is to know this... in this moment here with you, I am enough, that listening to your words I'm whole... the pieces come together.  I look at my moment standing on the edge of a cliff, just weeks ago, so much clearer... i see the beauty of the view... I still feel the warm breeze in my hair and feel the sum kiss my forehead... I feel honored to have take those moments in and had a sip of my truth... thanks for teaching me to listen to the words and the unwinds between them... for seeing whats in front of me and what's inside... for feeling the wind on my skin and the breeze in my soul... the words of women sustain me... build me...strengthen me... the holding space of women gives not only nourishment and nurturing but steady, solid strength... how fine it is to not know everything but to know enough for now...

Art Therapy- Sept. 14, 2017

1. It makes me feel small and unbelieving in my worth... scars and tears, but a slight glimmer of more of knowing... I'm in there somewhere
2. My heart has more hope and  isn't quiet as lonely and lost.   
3. My heart hurts and feels sorrow for the loss- but knows there is more inside me... it knows what I have forgotten, but hasn't been able to get me to understand.  I knows a secret that i don't understand or comprehend 
4. Green is the core surrounded by purple but its surrounded by a large tear drop of sorrow and clouded over by gray... the black are scars of hurt and unworthy and the teal is the bright vibrant of the secret...
5. That i want more, i want to believe in my worth and stand but I feel covered by the gray holding me from seeing the light clearly.
6.  that the worth is there that i know on a deep level.  I'm just trying to bring it to the surface, and be engulfed surrounded penetrated by it... integrated into every cell. 

1. it brings it full circle, it completes and brings back color.  gives vibrance and color... that the loss can bring about revitalization. 
2. that i can't really lose what i am... that my worth is always in tact its just my belief about it.  It may be dulled or hidden, but never gone.  misplaced for bit but always in me.
3. the colors I have drawn to are bright and vibrant... the circles surround and secure - solid ... holding me safe.
4. the colors overlap and hold onto each other, the strokes from the brush aren't perfect but they are perfectly them... like me...

I did this one because I have my thought of my kite string holder... I've been trying to hold my own string... and i'm trying to be ok with that... is it wrong to want someone to hold it for me and let me fly?  is it desperate to not want to be alone... or do i just surrender to the fact that i've mostly been alone and maybe thats what i will be....

Art Therapy- The Wave - August 20, 2017

When I think about my situation, it hurts to know that i've lost, my belief in my worth, my purpose.  My ability to create the life I came here to live... that I am alone & unloveable... that I'm not enough or I'm an imposter that people only like me if they don't really know me... that I can't be here for myself and I can't trust anyone else to be here for me either... that I don't stand in my own light and power... that i'm afraid of what others think of me... that I have no idea what i'm doing and someone/people will find out... that what i look like is ultimately what matters ... ugly duckling to swan back to ugly duckling ... afraid of abundance and my powers in creating ... that i'm overlooked and under appreciated ... that I'll never step into my power and purpose, that my life here will be of no significance

1. I felt my loss in my heart like a dull ache and in my belly like my belly button that originally connected me to my mom, my source of life.  
2. I still feel lost and alone... disconnected
3. that i have been drowning in  raging ocean of worthlessness ... that there are sparks around me but i haven't had the strength or courage or even at times the knowing off how to incorporate them.
4. deep colors with bright above me... they can't penetrate the deep blue they would just mute themselves
5. the circles of light blue- how I go round and round swirling and finding no way out of he loss or not knowing how to transform it.  those circles are swallowed up by the deep blue ocean of loss... dots of purple around me but not enough to connect me.
6. the drawing tells me that the loss has consumed me... its clouded over any worth in me & my life... that i don't know how to get out of my head to  know how to do it but my soul can't figure out the path... 

I love color- August 13, 2017

I'm no painter, but I love color... vibrant ... bold... and I love blank paper anticipating the first splash of life to transform and uncover purpose... I love the feel of the brush gliding thick with paint until its left it all on the page... then the dabbing of new color to start again... I love the wet silky texture as I smear it beneath my fingers... I love the idea of what was once all the same is changing and evolving into diverse colorful vibrant works of art... whether its paper or people.  I love seeing vivaciousness peeking through the dull cloud that covered me... It feels open, raw and unraveled instead of coiled and knotted in fear.  Nope I'm not a painter, but I'm the artist of my journey and I'm choosing to use all the love brush, bliss paints, peace glitter, wholehearted supplies I can find.  

The Edge--- August 10, 2017

I sat on the edge of the cliff today, I practiced breathing and worked on not jumping. I know that I'm unraveling because something small can trigger me so deeply.  I break down then I am screaming, as I drive aimlessly, with tears running down my face and I hear me yelling "what the fuck is wrong with me?" over and over again and screaming "why can't I get my shit together?"… And as I sit here on this cliff and think about how much it would hurt if I jumped and I wonder if that pain would  be more than the pain I'm feeling in my soul.  And I feel guilty because I'm blessed that I have a good life; I have the most amazing Village, the most beautiful loving fabulous children and grandchildren.  I'm not starving, at least not from the hunger of food, but my soul is starving to be fed and loved by someone who really gets me. It's blazing hot right now on the edge, and yet a cool breeze makes its way up from the canyon and I close my eyes and I lean my head back and I beg for relief... I beg to get it and to be gotten... I beg for me to let go of suffering. And I beg for the realization of my gifts... I beg for the courage to lean in and fulfill my purpose... I beg for the anchor that will hold me steady and yet let me ride the ripples of waves. I beg to feel held and yet free to feel loved and to love ... I beg to listen to my guides and angels to let them surround me to let their words to be clear in my ears to feel solid and purposeful and free and wanted. I beg to be brave enough to love with all I have and know that, that is enough to feel at home with someone and for me to be the home for them. 

Art therapy August 7, 2017

The sensations I felt that were produced by the painful emotion I've been working with were a deep dark pit in my heart/soul despair, ache, wanting, loneliness...

The drawing of what the painful emotion and to teach me... my heart symbol.. that light surrounds my tender, loving heart/soul... that warmth love and security protect the real power of my deep core of love... 

The lesson is that I'm always wanted by the universe, that I was created for a purpose, that I stand in my power, my personal and universal power... that I am a piece of all love and all love is a piece of me... that I can soften my edges and not get hurt... I can hold space for people who are treated unjustly, with love... strong love but not hate... that my true power is in loving deeper...

Soft colors are powerful and have their soft strength... light surrounds me and I surround it

Lines of yellow light penetrating me, surrounding me... pieces of me surrounding me... we are all one and our difference make us stronger...

Standing tall in my space... "don't shrink. Don't puff up. Stand in my sacred ground"  find the balance in speaking my truth without needing to lose who I am inherently... I don't need to get loud or sharp... I need to speak from my heart, soul and throat chakra... 

RiverWriting - Reclaiming my time- Aug 4, 2017

Reclaiming my time
Here's what i want to say... too many years of fear... too much being small, then bright, then shrinking again... 
Reclaiming my soul, the space where I live, the place where I go...
Avoiding my gifts, don't get too big for your britches, don't rock the boat, don't be too loud or laugh too much... keep your head down, stay in the lines which is hard to do when your don't see lines... its odd you know the way my head thinks and the way my spirit feels... I love coming home to this desk, this corner of my kitchen where my soul wraps with yours... how i feel I can show up all messy and wild and safe.  And when I go out to the world sometimes, most times, I look around and can't find me, and I realize my soul is back here... I'm finding the balance, I hope from being meek and being too sharp...where I bite my tongue or I lash out with it... I'm hoping that i'm finding the place where my words are less sugary and just more authentic.  Where I can say what i mean without fear or maybe not really... maybe the fear is ok cuz its something to push through to brave... where my words have more power, more depth, more authenticity... more love even for those who spew garbage... Where they are guided by my inner knowing and love even in the face of hate.  


Octopus
Its odd the way I've felt like an octopus- always reaching for love and understanding for a man to "get me" How I cringe at wanting... How I feel unsteady at standing in my power, in my glory of me... How I teeter and tauter at my strength and my weakness... How the women I adore for their strength and courage might throw their heads back and laugh a deep laugh from the depth of their bellies at neediness-- how I see Maya pushing me to stand steadying my wobble like a new born calf... I hear her voice in my ear "you got this girl" with her rich deepened voice... How I stand and then stumble as I reach for a man... What the Hell, just stand girl, just stand... You've built the foundation you've gathered the stones... trust them to hold you steady, trust them to lean on when you fall... and hold space when you rise again... stop waiting, stop distracting yourself with nonsense... lean into this life the one you were given, or have chosen... its here its now... ride the bike, sing the song... swim the swim... draw the picture, write the story, dance the dance and love just really really love.  

art therapy- what I have learned from my core pain.... Aug 3, 2017

Looking at the drawing I feel brighter, more empowered, a bit unraveled... relief... inspired... promising ... aspirant 

At first I felt "damn a heart? How clique " but I just let the brush lead... its the symbols I always draw when I doodle, but they felt different- more vibrant.

It felt light like letting go of breath while the other felt tight and dark- holding breath

That I can want me and hold me and send out the energy of whole instead of broken vibrant instead of dull achey need... color and attract drawing in like color 

that what is birthed of fear doesn't need to continue in fear... that vibrant and whole can birth from dark and broken that others fear isn't mine to carry

Bright and promising and then early and wounding that I'm meant to be in this body on this planet at this time... that its safe to inhabit my body and enjoy and love it... that I will leave it soon enough - enjoy it while I'm here

changing what the symbols mean to me... open and drowning instead of nervous habits

Not reaching for whoever can make me feel good then being held by the knives of my own creation letting go of the same of abuse, violence and letting it in...  that darkness that was given was also a gift... that i can take the lesson and the beauty of the gift without judging myself and my decisions ... that my experiences make me rich and vibrant not damaged... that broken is beautiful and just a new way to be whole, that the whole of me is still there shining even if its shattered... I'm still me and still valuable, loved, wanted, embraced.  

riverwriting- therapy July 28, 2017

Merely to have survived at this point is already the most unlikely triumph ....

I sit on her couch and hold the purple pillow with velvet circles in my lap... I look around at the paintings, the clock... I look at her looking at me... I start to unravel cuz thats why I'm here... but as I watch her... the common nod and agreement of therapists, I wonder if she can help me, if I can help me... I look at the sketch pad, the word unwanted written in bold orange, the circle and squiggles of color surround this word... the haze of gray that covers it all... unwanted ... the word I first think of the word I attract again and again, the gaping hole in the pit of my stomach, will I figure it out this time... I feel vulnerable like I"m still licking the wounds of the last 6 months and a bit frozen at the thought of jumping back in, walking on egg shells and coiling back from the lashes of words  " you're to free with you humor"  What the fuck does that even mean, yet it tears the skin and punctures my heart... I'm tired of reaching, of taking the brunt of others insecurities of being the back up or afterthought, the one who holds space, but when I need holding your arms are too tired... unwanted... its like the undying current that I need to change the tide....

This is the poem

This is the poem that opens the door, the wild one, the free one... the poem that gives permission to be vibrant ... to not hide.  This is the poem that won't let me cower and instead gives me courage and makes my lips smile, it gives me colorful tastes in my mouth and laughter lines by my eyes... it gives permission to really be me, and let you be you.  

RiverWriting July 14, 2017

Isn't this what you wanted... what you asked for... Not to be bored in a mundane job... not to just keep gaining through the motions... 

Isn't this what you wanted to shake it all up.... your thoughts, your life, your vision... 

Isn't this what you wanted... to try it all on... to feel it all...  you asked for wholeness and love but doesn't it take breaking to put the pieces together for whole... didn't you want to rearrange the colorful glass in a more vibrant way? then that takes shattering and searching for deeper, richer shards...

Isn't this what you wanted... less fear and more love, less leaning and more standing tall... less reaching and more feeling reached... less loneliness and more connection...

Isn't this what you wanted the chance to really use your body and heart ... to follow what feels like pleasure instead of worrying about if pain may come... 
to open and love with your wholeheart instead of holding back your shine... 

Isn't this what you wanted more moments and less things... more meeting other souls, less static relationships... less self torture and more self love and gratitude... less confusion and more clarity... less doing and more being...

Isn't this what you wanted...really being and trying on me... not who I am to those who need something from me, but just coming home to me.  

RiverWriting --- July 7, 2017

Before I go I want to tell you... 

I'm not always broken like I am here with you... I'm not always a puddle... but it's safe at this desk in front of your faces... sometimes I'm humorous and usually sarcastic ... I'm always learning, usually in painful ways, that I need to soften....

I bite my tongue a lot but sometimes not enough....

I open too much, then I close up too tight...

I defend the bruised and then bruise the bruisers ... I'm not always proud of that...

Art Assignment - how does the core emotion feel... July 30, 2017

My body feels like there is tightness in the pit of my stomach and the exchange of deep dull and sharp pains.  A loneliness, a void and then a punch of pain in an infected open wound... like the fingerprints of all who rejected and abandoned me are poking to make sure I still feel their mark left on me. 
It felt nauseating and dark, it felt like a feeling I avoid a deep agonizing pain that I try to avoid by reaching ... an aloneness mixed with heavy in the pit of my stomach- like an elephant stepping on my belly would feel like less pressure.

tight bloated not claustrophobic suffocated- shallow breaths-- full of sludge

My body betrays itself and attacks along with the feeling

colors are dull and matted like old puke --- with red dirt smeared around

lines reaching out like i do--- fingerprints

the word unwanted ---it would say its owned me from the moment i was conceived and tried to dull my light...

I'd like to be free and feel wanted by me..

Art therapy 1st assignment --- July 25, 2017

Unwanted-
I feel like there is a hole in my soul that I can't fill.  It hurts to talk about because I feel alone and crazy in my pain.  Letters were lowercase but written large... the top of the paper is where I wrote it, the word filled the ope of the paper.  I used pastel crayons, used orange color but the girls around it were multi colored... then I shaded in all with gravy colored pencil, because the color has a haze over it.  I think feeling unwanted drives my whole life... my decisions ... my reaching...

grasping for what may save me this time... June 27, 2017

Grasping for what might save me this time...

For the last six months I've watched this young girl stick all kinds of crazy things in a hole in her arm ....from the beginning an 2-3 inch piece of a chain-link fence...  to screws... buttons... glass... inside of pens...ear buds from her iPod....pieces of her wall or wood from her bed. every time she does it, I see the pain in her eyes and I wonder why she keeps doing it. I think, can't she see that her arm can get infected and she could lose her arm and it baffles me.  For months I've watched this trauma to her arm over and over, I feel helpless in how to reach her,  and I just keep thinking why can't she see it. And then last night when I'm running on no sleep on a graveyard shift after a full day of work... I get an epiphany, the kind I get when my body is tired and my spirit has less armor up, I am doing the same thing to my soul I keep sticking crazy foreign objects into the holes of my soul trying and trying to fill the emotional pain with the other pain .... thinking maybe if I control the pain going into me then it doesn't control me. If I give myself this pain then maybe it will dull the deep rooted anguish in my soul. Can't I see that it's infected and oozing that pieces of my wholeness are getting amputated ... I see the look in the eyes of the people watching me and it's the same as the look of confusion the doctors give the girl physically self harming. They can't understand why I can't comprehend the damage I'm doing, why I can't stop .... when I'm in fear I reach for someone to fill up the hole inside me... even though it seems so simple looking from the outside... just stop... even as I reach I'm screaming inside to stop myself... and I watch my arm extend I watch my fingers lengthen and I feel me grasp for what may save me this time 

write him a letter she said... homework therapy session 1 -- June 11, 2017

This is what you did to me… 

as a child i looked to you… i always felt loved and protected… I was your “tiger”  I felt like I was the favorite… i spent many hours hanging with you in the bar you drinking coors beer and me drinking coke and eating jerky… i remember sitting at the Y and the singer singing and she sat with us and gave you a gladys knight album with a song on it that she had been singing … looking back over the years I think you were having an affair with her… and you just had me there.. i think over the years i spent time with quite a few women that you slept with while being married to my mom…  you told me that I was always being watched … i think you meant it to keep me feeling safe, but it burrowed a path for when I was married to Equis… he had me convinced that I was watched to… many of the ways he was able to keep me off balance and afraid were paths that your voice created first …. you lied to me and made me feel like you would protect and take care of me, but it left me open to believe the lies of other men… You only cared about yourself and what worked for you… which created holes in me to find men who do the same with me…. you cheated and I find cheaters, you lied and I find liars, you emotionally abandoned me and I find emotionally unavailable men…. you walk out on me and I find men who walk out on me… you didn’t stay and they don’t stay… you hurt my mom and degraded  her and i find men who treat me with disrespect… i am responsible for my choices but my inner dialogue  of unworthy and unwanted run deep in my soul…. your drinking made me feel off kilter, i never knew who was coming home, someone fun or someone upset …. i remember one night when i was crying outside your bedroom door and then throwing up  and crying you came out and picked me up over your head and looked and me and yelled… i don’t remember what you said, but I remember being so scared I peed and you quickly put me down apologizing and feeling like an ass…. i remember that look in Equis’ eyes as he sat on me choking me and the realization sweeping over him just the same as he watched my face swell quickly from the contact of his hand…. 

i never saw you and mom fight …. maybe that was over by the time i came along and was able to realize… but i think that the most detrimental part was that although i never saw fighting although I heard you yell maybe it was just that mom didn’t fight back so there was no fighting..., i also never saw love, i saw you kiss one time that i can recall… in doorway of the green bathroom 

How I felt about it then… 

as a child I was naive and wanted to believe what was easier…. you made sure we had fun christmas’s and things… all to the stress and pain of my mom… but I didn’t know that then, I didn’t know the struggle for her or the stress she was under … just that you were fun and she was less so… i thought you were so great… even though i also had friends who would hide in my toy box because you were home and loudly telling them to go home…. 

i felt embarrassed to smell like the smoke of your cigarettes… of being the only child i knew who’s father drank beer and didn’t go to church…. of being the only latch key kid that i knew in my neighborhood… i always felt different… odd … some of it was just who I came here to this planet, and I was more fine with that… but the feeling I was different because of your choices was harder…. 

I feel like my daughters feel the same now at times… where I’m not like their friends moms and they don’t have the perfect mormon family like their friends… she raises herself way more than they will ever have to….. 

this is how it affected me….

some of it was mentioned above…. about the men i choose, the way I feel about myself…. the way i feel like Im not worthy of better…. the way i feel like no one stays, no one can love me completely or stay through the tough times… like no one can hold the space for me… hold my kite string as i fly… how i always dream of a beautiful life with a partner, but how i don’t see how to make that come true… how I mess up every relationship i’m in … how the minute things look like they are going bad in a relationship, i don’t leave but i reach for someone else to make sure i have back up… how when I’m triggered I panic and reach out, how my flight flight or freeze becomes reaching and grabbing and holding on… how i can’t figure out my shit to save my damn life… how I feel different and crazy and how i stuff everything down while at the same time i throw it all up… i bury things and overshare, I don’t make sense… I’m selfish and feel crazy… like I can’t trust anyone with my heart yet i give it away too easily…. how i reach and reach and reach like a pathetic loser… just wanting/begging from someone to get me, to love me, to see me! yet i don’t even know how to get, love and see myself… I want someone to know me, but I’m too afraid to know myself… 

this is what i want from you now…

this is a hard question for me…. because i don’t know what i want… i don’t know if i want anything… i feel like I can’t let myself expect anything from you…. like I let you do things for us financially when its your idea but I refuse to ask for anything… how you always attach strings to what you give but I don’t let them hold me… I don’t feel guilty for taking from you because a part of me feels you owe me… but I don’t ever expect it …. how my sister wants you to do for her like you do for me, how she does what she can to be the “good daughter” how she does whatever you want and feels so resentful but does it anyway… and then you do for me and I barely call you or try just enough to not be a total bitch of a daughter… but not enough to actually be a good one… how maybe instead of reaching for you I reach for men to love me or complete me… how I don’t want to ask for anything… I know you will never change your hurtful words… you will always say racist bullshit no matter how many times I correct you or tell you its wrong… so i’m at the point where i just expect your gonna say something assholey … and i tense up when you start on your rants… and i either let you go or get assholey back… 

I wanted the dad who loved me and one I could measure every man to so that I found but I guess i actually got that in the negative instead of the positive ….

conception... connection or obligation June 9, 2017

In her splendor ... it's June and I'm at my writing desk that my nephew brought me from my family home in the mountains. I was hoping that it would connect me to my ancestors, to the people whose love for generations brought me into being… Then I pause… Maybe it wasn't necessarily generations of people loving or showing love physically that brought me here… Maybe some of the combining of sperm and eggs were brought from love and desire, but much could've been joined by obligation or guilt… It's odd to think of those moments… I hope there was a connection and love, or at least consent, then I remember the words of my mother when she was processing the pregnancy of her unwed daughter at 19 ... "if you're married you have to do that, but if you're not, why would you want to?" ... I remember that moment, the epiphany of the sadness for my mom; had she never felt desire and wanting?… Was it just a chore?… Knowing my father he didn't care about anyone but himself and his own pleasures. Maybe that knowing of my conception 10 years between my siblings and I, the unhappy my parents were, the surprise I was and probably the burden on my mom to stay longer in the bed that she had made… Maybe that's why I long so much for connection, for desire and love, to be wanted.... for the combining of souls not just bodies for the touching on levels deeper than our skin… For being reached for,  not just reaching… For being consumed yet made to feel free. 

6-9-17

Guilt... its my birthright... June 2017

The last 14 months my work life has been crazy... starting a new program... trainings... long hours... getting yelled at and degraded by a contracted staff... during that time I was on edge, I didn't sleep much and my 16-17 year old daughter was basically raising herself... she got kidney stones while I was at a conference (I came back early), she got a concussion while I was driving home from a training in SLC.  She was texted I would be home late or woken up in the middle of the night with "I have to go to the emergency room" many times.  Luckily I raised an independent, strong, amazing daughter and luckily she supported me in a time where I was wracked with guilt...  She laughed as I drug my tired ass out of the house one more time in the middle of the night in crazy leggings and a sweatshirt... and usually no bra... she text me that she loved me, and she made excuses to her friends mom's when I didn't show up for things...  She stepped up when I needed her and she never made me feel more guilty than I already did... she loved me through the mess and chaos... 

Abandonment runs deep.... June 4, 2017

I have always had abandonment issues... I have always struggled when people leave... I take it all personally like I'm not worth staying for... When my daughter told me she was moving to California, I knew it had been coming but I was in denial... I was unable to even think about it... I avoided the conversations and even tried to avoid going with them to move... With the last six months of my life I was left raw, bruised and battered... this was something I wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with... but I had to suck it up, I had to go and support them... it was exciting for her and her family... a new adventure... and I love her, my daughter, and her family with all that I have, so the pain of losing them close to me needed to be in the background, and my joy for her spreading her wings needed to be in the forefront... 


It's hard when your daughter and her sweet family move away... but Ive been blessed this weekend with the sweet mercies of comfort in life ... from signs from my angels, a strand of my hair stuck in a heart shape on my car door as I got in at 5:00 am for the drive, the feather on the ground as I parked my car at the new apartment building.... the friends and family of my son in law who showed up to move them in... the family dinner with the Ross's for Dexters bday and the love they show all of us... the new neighbor who welcomed my daughter and told her she would love it there... 

My eyes filled with tears many times this weekend... many because I'll miss them so much, but many more for the Gratitude of love that consumes me at this time... for supportive family and friends...for Brave moves... New Adventures ... and though I'm fighting it, the stretching of my growth to watch my daughter spread her wings wider and soar.... 

can you hear the rumble....It begins... June 2, 2017

The last few months I have supervised a program called New Hope... it has been the hardest months of my career... and seeing and hearing trauma of these girls has not only given rise to Secondary trauma in myself, but has also triggered some past trauma of my own... some things that I have talked about and some things I haven't shared with anyone... so I'm starting therapy this month, as I get news that my program is closing... so I will put here in this blog... some writings from these days and some therapy steps I will work... 


The only thing constant in life is change… I spent so much time digging in my heels and pulling against the cords of change… Begging for it to stay the same, begging people not to leave, but the truth is people leave and situations always change. I can't hold back the waters of change any longer. I can't hold the dam together anymore. I feel a flood coming, I hear the sound the weight of the water makes as it gushes towards me… The crackling of branches as it overtakes the bushes, the scrape of the rocks turning over on the soil,  I hear the rumble of the ground and feel the vibration under my feet as I sense the impending crash into me… I can no longer hold it back I can no longer pretend the pain away, I can no longer push against it and keep it at bay so I prepare and lay the groundwork for the unraveling of me… For the washing over of the water muddy and full of debris, sticks scratching my skin and rocks bruising my soul...I know that I will take in water, that holding my breath will only hold for so long... that I hope as I gasp and flail around I will find something to hang onto to, to ride through the crashing waves,  to not fight it anymore but to flow with it whatever it looks like, whatever it brings... the only safety lies in letting it all in. 

As the unraveling begins I am afraid… Afraid of what I will find under these layers I've lain and what lies hidden in the dark cold places of my soul… I know it's time and I've been preparing getting lined up with the buoys that I may need to grab, in cutting the lines to the anchors that may pull me under… There's a part of me that looks forward to the falling apart because my muscles are sore and weak from holding it together. There's a relief in knowing that I can't hold it any longer and while I look forward to the other side of this… I know also that I must really be in every moment of this journey….To find myself I must feel the sting of what I've avoided, that I must embrace the pain as it pierces my skin... that to truly heal I must reopen the infected wounds and let the air touch them, that unless I dig out the infection and smell the stench of it's rot,  I cannot pour the light in to clean and dress them with acknowledgment and self-love. So I anxiously look forward to this journey to lean in and feel it all and sometimes forcefully, sometimes gently let it go... 

6-2-17

Wound too tight... holding it together-- January 2017

We all have a story... we all have things that are hard, things that make us smile... so owning my story and loving myself through the process is something I have gone back and forth on... I own my life and my choices and I'm not ashamed or regretful of them... although I haven't always loved myself through the process... I haven't felt worthy of love and belonging... I haven't felt enough... Although I can hold space for those who are hurting, I've had a hard time letting others hold space for me... or had a hard time finding someone who had the strength to hold the weight of my pain.  So I'm not sure what this blog will be or become... but I have known since January that an unraveling was coming that I'd been wound too tight to continue holding it in... I have had some moments of pulling apart in the past... I've had some therapy and worked extensively on my shit... but  somehow I've avoided the core... so I'm giving myself permission this year to begin to really unravel... to let myself lean in and feel it all, to hurt and heal, to be angry and loving, to lose myself in the process and hopefully find myself as well... I'm sure it won't be pretty and I'm open to letting myself share the darkness in hopes I will find my light, and maybe someone else will find their own from the glow of mine...