Healing Trauma: What it Really Takes to Liberate your Brilliance

I recently discovered an amazing blog entry while perusing The Integral Approach to Psychotherapy regarding the importance of resolving trauma within our histories, within our hearts, souls, minds and lives.  The damage that can be done by ignoring or continually banishing our "unwanted" emotions from the pain of our past, is greater than that which can be overcome by scraping the surface or ridding ourselves from the memories, or even from the effects of the scars.  The more we try to escape, the deeper we become entrenched within and shackled onto our pain; and the more difficult it will be to overcome.  Yet for those who are committed, there is another side to your story- and a light within that can shine so brilliantly beyond anything you ever thought possible. Patience is key, but courage and faith, and hope for something better will light a fire that you can follow with the help of a trusted other. Whether that other is a psychotherapist, a guide, a spiritual coach, or other figure in your life that you trust with your "unwanted" parts/emotions. See an excerpt below, and please visit this webpage and see the brilliance for yourself.

The most exciting part of the human experience is the creative potential that awaits in the center of our wounds waiting to be accessed and embodied. 

If we choose to stay unconscious and unaware of our wounds and how they affect our present lives, we remain handicapped by the fog of projection and the cognitive distortions of our early experiences. However, If we choose to lean into our pain for the sake of transformation and address our wounds directly, we have the potential to live lives beyond what you can currently imagine where joy, love and peace are the primary reality we experience. 

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” ― C.G. Jung

Healing Trauma: What it Really Takes to Liberate your Brilliance as seen on Womb of Light, thanks to writer and inspirational speaker Bethany Webster. (PLEASE NOTE: Image seen here is the logo from Womb of Light, all rights reserved to Womb of Light and Bethany Webster.)

http://womboflight.com

Phoenix Road Books for Social Work, Psychology, self help, and entertainment books, DVD's, music and more!

For those of you that don't know, I wanted to bring my business to your attention.  Phoenix Road Books has been in existence for about the same time as this website itself. The store was developed to support this website and keep it running; with books containing themes similar to those introduced in the work and containing material to inspire and expand on ideas introduced on this page. Most of the books in my inventory are catered to those interested in recovery from trauma, mental health studies, and personal self-help books. However, the store also carries general entertainment DVD's and books, and those for other interests. I'd love it if you would take a look and as with anything published on this website, I am very open to suggestions, submissions and requests.  Please let me know if you need any help navigating the store, purchasing items or if you would like to request that a particular item be ordered. I have access to quite a bit of updated Social Work literature and other resources that may be very helpful to you and I would be more than happy to seek out particular titles if you so desire.

http://www.amazon.com/shops/phoenix_road_books

Thinking of you and looking forward to reading creative submissions!

Be love,
Phoenix

You left your mark on me

Or so you thought

I left my heart

Temporarily

You left your mark on me

Or so you thought

I came back to find it

But somewhere in between

I lost me.

I left more marks on me

Or so I thought

I found myself again

I left more marks on me

Mistook blood for emotion

And I’m jump starting endlessly.

I’ve got my eyes on you

You’re everywhere that I see

I’ve got a circular devotion

To all that’s been failing me.

I gave you everything I feel

Yet nothing that was real

When I went to assess the damage

The marks were gone

But the pain was obscene

It was as if I could taste it

If I ever uttered a word

I might not embrace it

But I can’t help but face it.

Refinancing Meditation

Sometimes the first time you meditate on something isn't enough. In the moment, you can be a practiced yogi, or even a practitioner of meditation; and go as deeply into thought and emotion as time will allow you to go. In that moment, you could have reached the depths of potential for a particular focal point, subject, intention or energy. Yet, with time passing by; this potential changes, and your ability to dig deeper does as well.  This leads to one of the oldest methods to my madness, in reviewing older material; some of which may be unfinished- some of which I previously thought were complete, I walk even further with difficult emotions than my feet would take me the first time around. I don’t always understand what the connection is to my original meditation and writing; to what comes out the second time around. Sometimes the two pieces are related, sometimes the second piece is no more than an extension of the first, and sometimes the second piece takes thinking and feeling in an entirely different direction.  Sometimes when I’m writing the second time around it feels as if I discover the true meaning behind what I was scraping at to begin with. Sometimes that feels like a breakthrough. Other times it feels like a slap in the face, makes me wonder how I could have missed it the first time around. Regardless, I always feel as if I was supposed to re-walk certain paths, and I wouldn’t have known that had I not attempted openly, aimlessly, to step into something real. To reassess that which I had traversed before, to find out if I looked over everything. To find out how I have grown, and where that growth may take me with my older thoughts and intentions. To reevaluate, re-appreciate, respect in retrospect.

Just some thoughts to share for those who are writers or want to take their craft more seriously. Remember, none of us are beyond the need for re-evaluation! It can be immensely powerful to hear others' feedback on your work, but in your own time it is a way to grow beyond your own perspective, and expand your thinking to what's "outside the box." What are some ways you re-evaluate your work?

It's been a very long time since we've seen any submissions here on Road to the Phoenix. I'd love to see more of your work! Please feel free to submit any freewrites, social commentary, poetry or other art forms you feel apply to the themes of this website. Thanks as always for reading!

-Phoenix

Frequencies of Protection

Tell me why,
have I been running in circles
for so long now?
Tell me why,
when I look at you
you don't know me anymore?
Tell me why,
after all this time
I am asking myself the same questions
while the answers often land
in such distance from the truth?

In the end,
when so much depends
on finding the truths
within ourselves;
tell me why,
we spend so much time
and expend precious energy
creating fantasies of grandeur?
To decorate, elaborate, accentuate
and feed our egos...
...a perfect decoy for the truth.

Tell me why,
I often find myself
so far outside of my voice,
that I cannot decode my own
frequencies of protection?
Tell me why,
it's become so difficult
to ascertain the difference
between what I've been
telling myself and what's recorded
in spiritual transmission?

I find it rather unsettling,
that I could step so swiftly
outside of my center,
that I leave no footsteps
for my heart to follow home.
Tell me why, I can sit here
grasping at straws
gasping for clarity
ready to lunge at a moment's notice
just to land in a spot that feels
even remotely like home.

Rumination on NY Times' article, an exposé on "The Brutality of ‘Corrective Rape’"

We as Americans write articles like this and call it anthropological research. We enter a foreign country, study and interview her people, traverse and welcome ourselves in others homes, and into suffering "others'" lives. Then into their lives we inject our analysis, our "educated" opinions, and then report back to America; and into the minds of those who read this story, and ingest it as truth because it comes from a reputable or scholarly source. We can be thorough, scholarly, and even considered "courageous" for telling a story about a "far away place" with a "problem" so severe, that we believe the world's (mainly our) shame is the only prescription to "fix" it. Those might be well deserved descriptions; but of course this, as with most things, is debatable.

What I want to know is, why are we so blind to the ways that these "others" and their stories represent themselves in our own culture, in our own back yards, in our own schools, and in our own homes?  Why do I have to explain what 'rape culture' is, almost every time that I use the term?  Why is it that people look away quickly, as if I've offended their sensibilities, when I tell them that much of my volunteer experience focuses on rape prevention?

With this being said, there is something unmistakably courageous, about giving the voiceless a voice. Rape is a particularly violent form of oppression that is exacerbated by the fear that lives inside of all of us.  The same fear that causes family members to hide and/or condone assault of their loved ones out of shame, in an attempt to "protect" that which they consider sacred.  In allowing the fear to steer the ship, the "sacred" that they were desperate to hide, created the "corrective" action that perpetuates the violence, and sinks the ship. When we hide from the stories, and inside of denial; we're solidifying and empowering the very source of violence that created the stories to begin with.

Can the effort to give a voice to the voiceless, a platform for the forgotten "other" in an often underserved, struggling area, country or society-- veer from courageous, and slip into exploitative? I think so, especially when that "voice" that we are trying to give, is preemptively quieting and redirecting the voice from within, the voice from inside of our own walls. What is it about the voice of our own women, here in the US, that makes us look away, shrug off, make "rape jokes" about, use derogatory terms like "slut," or write off as "feminist ideals?"  I do not intend to discount the value of reporting sexual violence in an effort to expose oppression in its most insidious forms, wherever this report may originate.  In a world where the last thought is placed on the survivors of sexual violence, in a society where we're spending too much time about what the survivor was wearing, how many partners a survivor had in the past, or how many drinks this person had; exposure is the first step to creating change. The value of said reporting notwithstanding, what can we do to create awareness, respect and commitment to addressing, understanding and placing value on the issues in our own backyards? I believe that begins with using our anthropology, to place the same attention and analysis at home as well. That begins by admitting that we have a problem of epidemic proportions; but can we as Americans step out of our self-absorption? I'd like to think that this is possible. What can we do to create a better understanding of our own issues?

stuck awake in the moment when 

sleep is an rsvp'd guest

understanding that life is a

mystery, and all i can do is guess.

Somewhere between sweating 

and a hot mess,

i look over at my gorgeous beauty

and somehow misery has been bested.

Inspired

Inspired by warriors, friends, and the force that brought marriage equality to the Supreme Court!

You think we won't win,
and who I am is a sin?
You think I speak too loud,
and that I am just too proud?
You think it's shoving down your throat,
and believe my rights are your vote?
You think that I'll convert your child,
and that it's okay to condone my defiling?

The world now knows how you feel
and that your ignorance is real.
Marriage is not mine to steal
but your place in history will be revealed.


I'm looking at the flags over Boston today, in support of Marriage Equality at the DOMA Rally at City Hall. I feel proud that I am not devoting my life to robbing life from others who want to live freely, without shame. I am proud to be who I am, regardless of who I say it to, regardless of what the laws will "let me" do.

I'm comfortable to let history define me as a person who won't roll over and die in the face of rampant bigotry and prejudice. I won't stop. I won't give in, and I won't forget about the lives that are changed, hurt or much worse, from oppressive policies/laws/attitudes that put the lives and well being of American citizens, adults and defenseless children, at risk. I won't forget who has been hurt, and I won't forget the people I love, and I won't forget myself. Today and everyday, liberty was intended for everyone.

"When you know your worth, no one can make you feel worthless."

                                                DOMA Rally at the Boston City Hall Plaza 3/26/13

Breathing Phoenix - Reincarnated (revised)

(I decided that the poem needed further work after my first edit, feel free to comment on the two! NOTE: This poem was written/revised for One Billion Rising. Read original Breathing Phoenix here if you wish)

After your invasion,

I thought that I would break.

Me and my big old heart,

what would be left, once I got back up?

Those words were never uttered aloud

but I heard them in the quieted reflections and

muttered memories like amplified whispers.

Sure, I've learned a thing or two about pain

over the years since the terror of your shame.

I lost my innocence on a fateful day, that remains

a distant memory, despite the demise.

I encountered a darkness I had never seen when

I faced the demons incited by you.

But I've learned a thing or two about me as well,

about what is inside me, beyond what you can tell

beyond what others see, or can even hear

underneath my heartbeat, underneath my chest.

Outside of my bleeding heart, yet holding it close.

It pushes me to stand, when my heart wants to rest.

It gets me out of bed, when I want to shut the world out.

It gives me back my smile, when I struggle with my fears.

It encourages me to do my best, when I feel beaten down.

It gives me comfort when I need it the most,

and it understands when my anger roasts me.

It picks me up when I've lost my ground,

and gives me faith far beyond what is "sound."

It's the fire that feeds me when my body runs cold,

and it's the mist that cools me when my passion burns.

It's the reason I stand, and permits me to stand down.

It fuels me when I lose my will, and shows me how to stop when I've had my fill.

It's the reason I'm alive; despite what I do, how much I get hurt

or how much I've been through.

It's stronger than my intuition and even my heart

the spirit inside me will never die.

(My inspiration for this revision)

Breathing Phoenix (Reincarnated)

(I was recently invited to speak for One Billion Rising, and while looking through material I was inspired to reinterpret this piece, as it seems to have taken new meaning in my life over the years, with new vision and growth having occurred since I wrote it. Feel free to share your thoughts!) 

After the invasion,
I thought that I would break.
Me and my big old heart,
what would be left, once I could get back up?
No one ever uttered those words aloud
but I heard them in the quieted tones and the
muttered glances like amplified whispers.

Sure, I've learned a thing or two about pain
over the years since your shame.
I lost my innocence on a fateful day, that remains
a distant memory, despite the demise.
I encountered a darkness I had never seen when
I faced the demons incited by you.

But I've learned a thing or two about me as well,
about what is inside me, beyond what you can tell
beyond what others see, or can even hear
underneath my heartbeat, underneath my chest.
Outside of my bleeding heart, yet holding it close.
It pushes me to stand, when my heart wants to rest.
It gets me out of bed, when I want to shut the world out.
It gives me back my smile, when I struggle with my fears.
It encourages me to do my best, when I feel beaten down.
It gives me comfort when I need it the most,
and it understands when my anger roasts me.
It picks me up when I've lost my ground, and
and gives me faith far beyond what is "sound."
It's the fire that feeds me when my body runs cold,
and it's the mist that cools me when my passion burns.

It's the reason I stand, and permits me to stand down.
It fuels me when I lose my will, and shows me how to stop when I've had my fill.
It's the reason I'm alive; despite what I do, how much I get hurt
or how much I've been through.
It's stronger than my intuition and even my heart
the spirit inside me will never die.

Craving

Do you ever feel as if you are craving attention and you have no idea why?
Does it make you feel motivated to find out why, or do you beat yourself up over it?

What's interesting about this feeling for me is that I am a person that likes to go about my life and make decisions independently without garnering attention or unnecessary praise for the things I do. I don't like to be the center of attention and there's a little voice inside telling me its childish to long for attention.  Whether that is true or not, valid or falsehood; that is what my mind shoots back at me when I feel like I'm feeling right now. This feeling is difficult for me because I see it impacting the way I interact with my partner, and it creates a lingering pain that hovers because of the lack of presence of friends in my life.  Graduate School has required more of my time and energy than I could have ever imagined that it would, despite the numerous  warnings from friends and family members that had already been through it. But it has created a distance between me and the small group of friends that I have, both because of how busy I have become and due to the stress making me want to isolate myself.  It's left me feeling cold and very lonely, throughout much of the last two years.  Being lonely to this extent, at the depth that I have- for the length of time that I have; has created ripples in my spirit.  It really has had an impact on me, and I guess I am writing now; slightly desperate and a little afraid of what exactly has happened inside of me as a result.  I've become quite practiced on putting my deepest emotions on the back burner, to stay focused and open at school, and for the ability to be present with my clients. However, when I have some time for myself and I try to re-visit my "self," often times it is difficult to translate my feelings. Or, to find them at all.  Sometimes I just want to be with someone so I don't have to think about any of it, what I feel or what I see on a daily basis. Just to be me without any title or job description. To put my "healer" hat down for a moment and just live.

Guess I am not very practiced at being forgiving. Or being able to be present with the loneliness and not just feel haunted by it. This is right now, not forever; and my life will always be what I create out of it. *Sigh.* Just keep breathing!  Feel free to share your thoughts, in a poem or just a comment!

Free Fall

I think I'm falling

or the floor beneath me is rising

but I can't seem to stand still

and my mind is reeling

for the sake of feeling

Am I falling?

Or are we emerging?

I can't tell up from down

it feels like we're spinning around

and my pulse is multiplying

I know I'm falling

yet here you firmly stand

with a calm spirit and a flow

of energy that gives me chills

and jump starts my idle heart

For you...

my chest is a revolving door
and you just reach in and pull me out
but I'm no fish out of water in this, love
I'll hit the ground running.

Abandoning Anchor

"We could keep things just the same
leave here the way we came
with nothing to lose
but I don't want to, if you don't want to." -Sugarland

We could sit here on the shore, and
watch as the water moves without us
or walk hand in hand, and
take the boat and actually sail in it.
who cares what the weather brings
we don't need to know everything

just one thing at a time, because one of "us,"
is one more than most can say
the bond we share, and seas we'll sail
are worth more in kind, than
any value could define.

The shores have always been kind to me
soothing and calming me with her waves
protecting my spirit with a wealth
of sea breezes to refresh my tired mind, and
endless depths of strength to guide me.

Perhaps for the first time in my life, I don't
want to think, I just want to jump in.
I know there's no telling where the water will take us
but I know that we'll swim, and I've already won.

I've got a lot of failed sails, sore memories
stowed away wasted messages in bottles that beg us to
map a plan, to navigate the waters and avoid the sands
but for the first time in my life
I don't want to think, or fear
what i could be feeling in reality

Electric Veins (sister poem)

(Sometimes when I post, unfinished... "poems in flux" it is a catalyst for change. This poem has been on the tip of my tongue for a long time, and I'm not sure where to go with it so... here it is so far.)

Charged energy courses through my veins
sparking capricious frequencies in my spirit
that unscrew my consciousness, and set my mind ablaze.
Despite the status quo, my state of being or my life...
When it courses through me...all bets are off.

When the hair on the back of my neck
stands up like the arched back of a startled cat
the air feels thick and appears more sudden
more vulnerable, less connected.
I don't know whether to go to the source
or run for cover to the nearest tree.
Either way I might be stopped by lightning
seizing the wiring inside of me.

Should I be brave? Or more certain for sure...
I'm a self-made woman, fit for the fight.
But I'm tender around the edges
prone to condoning deceit.

Directions

Just to open my eyes, I find that
I must also open my heart, to know that
Everything around me is predestined, to be what
I never thought it could be, and show what
I never thought I would see.

Why didn't anyone tell me the compass is a crock?
That the only way to find direction is to stop
looking for the way the wind is blowing, instead
walking forward to, where your feet lead you.

Just to be able to find you, I had to stop seeing
the image of what I didn't have, instead
of what I wanted for myself, to let go
to be happy to be, completely and genuinely me.

To follow my intuition, fight for a cause I believe in
speaking out so others can speak from within
following my passion as it whispers to my heart
everything you need, is within your walls

The simple rediscovery, of living in all sides of me
is exactly what lead me to you, which leads me to
believe that you've really been here all along
you knew my heart before my eyes ever met you.

Layover

Where has my muse traveled to?
Perhaps it packed my motivation in a carry on
I've been driving along, ambitiously thriving
as my dreams are unfolding before me
but I can't seem to find my luggage
perhaps it landed in a unfamiliar city
and I'm just on a scavenger hunt, minus the list.

I'm on a non-stop flight, almost two years in
The horizon even blesses me, as the sunrise keeps sneaking in
why am I not on the same plane as my dreams?
Where did I go? Why am I flying, if my heart is a no-show?

(to be continued...)

On my Back

(I wrote this almost two years ago, but for some reason I never posted it. But as I am trying to find my inspiration to write again- to connect with myself emotionally in a way that will, make me feel more stable and grounded.... I figured perhaps now, in this time of exploration, is the right time to get it out there.)

How did i get here, how do you figure?
What were we flying on, what was moving us, was it love?
Then why did you shoot it down, how?
Just before i met you, you promised to sweep me off my feet;
and i laughed to myself a little.
I doubted the possibility. But you did. And now i'm on my back.

Why did you shoot it down? How did you feel?
Why did we "work so hard" if this wasn't real?
What were you committed to, if not the ideal?
You said you loved me, beyond the idea of me-
to the person I am in heart and in mind.
Well all I've got left is the ideal now
because you've sworn off loving me.
When I get up now; where do I go?
Wherever I am, you are with me now.
I fear that my love for you will suffocate me
because nobody shares it, so now I must bear it.
As an announcement of my abandonment..
Why am I always left with the scarlet letter?

Why am I always told "you can find something better?"
Why do I always hear, "I care about you, but I'm not ready."
Who's to say that I'm ready either?
What is it about me that pressures you so
when I was around you it seemed that you knew
just what you wanted and just how you felt
but now you've defied it and left me to swell.
The cavity in my chest, feels like it will burst
all while reeling I'm alone and afraid, hurting and denied
I try to stay positive, but it all has been tried.

Even the brightest sunrise

With even the clearest, strongest of my dreams...aspirations, I still struggle with doubts and fears. Lately I have been struggling with feeling inferior/undeserving of the love of my friends and family..or the depth of it. As I am devoting my life to grad school... and getting my MSW, I am dealing with a constant lack of time, energy and/or resources to devote to my connnections and relationships. I am a nurturer... and I treat my relationships no differently. But, I feel disarmed at times, even if that sounds dramatic.. I can't give of myself or be involved in others lives like I'm used to, like I want to.
   Since when did dreams become so important, though; that those I love more than LIFE ITSELF, become 2nd in line? How can I expect others to understand, without my ability to reach out as they/I am used to, that it kills me to feel as if everyones lives are moving on without me, as if I'm a distant memory for the next 2 years....as if their lives move on and happen without me for this chunk of time...like I'm on some type of sabbatical from everyone's lives...but my life isn't complete without them. Without those I love, my dreams have no meaning or value. No wealth is worth it or of any value to me if I can't share it with them. This is a battle for me, but I feel responsible to embrace it, in order to live up to my dreams and make something of myself and my life. But in a way it feels as if I am abandoning my loved ones.. even if others "don't see it that way," it feels that way and I'm struggling to deal with that.
     To be continued.....

Using the trauma, so it will Never Use Me.

I know...deep within my bones that because of my own experience with trauma and being a survivor.. I am endlessly compelled to prevent and help heal trauma in others. Nobody deserves to suffer like that, and certainly not alone. It's an urgent need in me that feels almost tangible, that I can't explain....that moves me beyond any intention that I could ever have. This need in me moves me without my having to decide to stand- it is a part of me. It has been ever since I refused to let the trauma break me, and this need is as central to who I am as the heart that beats in my chest- and the spirit that keeps me alive.

Because of this and countless other reasons; the composition of who I am has changed more in the last four years than in the rest of my years combined. Everything from the complexion of my skin, to the way I walk, the way I hold myself, the thoughts I bear, the words I share, and the decisions I make. It almost seems...unfair... to say that anything good can result from the terrible traumatic events that I experienced. However, today- on this fourth anniversary.. I want to make a promise to myself that this year will be a year I can look back on and draw from. Not because I expect or even think that this journey is over for me, because it definitely is not. I know there are difficult days ahead that I can't predict or even understand right now. But I do want this year to be different; and I want it to be different in the way I work to heal myself, and believe in myself.

Sometimes it is difficult to believe that I have the knowledge and ability to defeat anxiety and other symptoms of PTSD. I feel disconnected, and fragmented today in ways that feel new to me. Each time I find myself on August 25th, it's like the first time I've ever been there. The symptoms aren't the same, and they aren't quite as severe or scarring as they used to be. However, I never can prepare myself for exactly how I'll feel. I can't even guarantee to myself that I'll understand why I'm feeling some of the things that I do, some of the things that I am right now. But if nothing else, I want to love myself a little more this year. I want to love myself in the way that I need to, to get through this day and all of the ones ahead. I want to know that next year, when I feel lost- I can think about today and realize- I'm okay. I'm okay... I'm okay. I'm doing this, and no matter how frightening this may feel. No matter how disturbing it is to know that some of the scars are still inside of me, even after all these years. I've been told.. "I bet you wish you could kill him" and "Don't you want to just cut him (the memories) free?" But this isn't about him anymore. It hasn't been for a very long time.

The emotional aftermath from what happened four years ago from today, was far more harmful and life changing than the actual event itself. I harmed myself in ways that I could not control, and emotionally it felt as if I was literally tearing apart, breaking into pieces. I couldn't rectify the broken parts inside of me, and I couldn't fathom living with the kind of pain that resulted from being violated, and shamed. I couldn't bear the state I lived in, I couldn't bear the feelings I had, and I couldn't cope with the memories without pictures, the sensations in my body that couldn't be explained with images or words. It tore me apart. And when I started to stand up again, started to brush myself off, I was so, very lost. I didn't know myself anymore; I felt like the person I was before, was gone. It was as if I had to learn to walk all over again, learn to relate to others, learn to share myself, and learn to let other people in. It was a painstaking process that took a good portion of the last four years. I still struggle to let people in at times. Eventually I figured out that my spirit was there all along, and if it wasn't, I sure as hell wouldn't have survived. But I did.

Today I want to say, I am still here. I am still in love with life, and I always will be. I still hurt at times, I still have fear at times, and I still am shaken at times. But each time I fall, I get right back up again and I want to use my ability to be strong- to lead me throughout my life. But even beyond that, I want the strength that I've also received from the love others have offered me, the support and the kindness- to bolster that need in me to give to others. There are so many other survivors out there and I feel as if you are a part of me, and I am a part of you. We're in this together- and let us share the light in ourselves that WILL NEVER GO OUT.

With love, tenderness and faith in the collective power of survivors--- be well.
-Phoenix

Electric Veins

So much energy courses through my veins around this time of year; that it causes almost completely unpredictable waves in my spirit that unscrew my consciousness, and set my mind ablaze. Regardless of the status quo, my state of being up until August, or the state of my life in general. When this time comes around...all bets are off.

So I'm checking in. Four years later. Today hasn't even arrived in the queue of twilights surrounding the anniversary. It's not for another 17 days. But the changes have already started. As I sit here with my hands shaking after a sleepless night with unbidden memories and a day on the verge of tears. As I find myself taking stock of where I've been, I realize that this is pretty typical for me to do, while writing entries in here. Be it an appraisal of the events in my life or my own assessment of my efforts to create a life for myself that remains in growth from the point of attention. Today, I don't know where to start. In some ways I have truly arrived in the pinnacle, and in others I'm still tripping over the same speed bumps. I've arrived in the pinnacle of my life in that I am working on my masters degree that will allow me to practice my true life's work. I'm still tripping over the same speed bumps in terms of my drive to cling to routine, my on-again-off-again relationship with my ability to relax, my anxious tendency to harbor my own emotions within the walls of my body....the last of which I can't do right now. The last of which is affecting my relationships and that is when it really starts to wreak havoc within my conscience. Just like it is right now.

Is this what each year will be like, come August? Will I feel stronger each year; will I feel disappointed each year? Each of the last four years has been a battle within myself. A battle between the peaceful, accepting side of myself and the driven, stubborn and even a little prideful side of myself. I've come a long way and worked harder than I ever thought I could, to make it to this day. I struggle to forgive such lengthy hiccups. I struggle to withhold judgment for myself. Even this meditation only scrapes at the surface, as I fear some of my bravery might have escaped me since 2008, when I found it in myself to create this website to release all that was hell-bent on defeating me; if I had let it. Perhaps the fourth anniversary comes with a challenge for me to reclaim my own courage and release the demons that are deep within my consciousness, and admit even to myself once again, that I am not alone.