Work In Progress

Sometimes, I feel like I have been given such a great gift, this time: to reflect, inspect, be vulnerable, allow, give, love, accept.  Each new experience forming the start of a solid foundation for my recovery.   Other times it feels like I have been awoken from the Matrix; stripped bare and raw, where everything hurts, is prickly and hard and bright.  I stumble against each wave of new understanding, struggling to keep my foothold in the ever shifting sand.  Some waves lift you up, others pull you under--treading water gets exhausting and you feel like it might just be easier to climb back in the fast-track, never stop, head down, don't think boat you abandoned because that just. might. be. easier. These last few days, the few days after my vacation, left me wondering if I had made any progress at all in my recovery.    It was an all inclusive, luxury resort---the kind we could never afford and wouldn't even consider because I have never thought spending money on

January is the month of dreaming, and as February approaches I have in my pocket, four seeds---the beginnings of somethings that will be beautiful and wild and strong.  My Sista Perfectionista often talks how our thoughts are seeds we plant in the fertile garden of our mind.  The more we water each seed, the more it grows.  Too often, I water the seeds of guilt, shame, fear.....their roots run deep. Over the last year, I have been preparing for this time.  While not yet spring in the real world, the world of my soul work is ripe for planting.  Rich, loamy soil has been prepared. The sun is shining and the watering can is within my reach. Inside small mounds of dark soil I plant my seeds. Feel.  Allow the heart to have its say.  Logic has a place, but feel your way through things, even uncomfortable ones--ones that hurt and ones that allow for joy and love. Just FEEL. Brave .  Take a leap.  Don't let fear limit my potential to experience greatness.  Do the

For the longest time after my collapse, I was unable to read.  The words were there and my eyes worked--- albeit I now need reading glasses to interpret the small print---- I just couldn't put many words in order and I certainly could not retain their meaning.  To someone who values reading and learning, it was incredibly confusing and frustrating to have lost the joy and comfort of being able to escape this world into another for a time.   Thoughts move in and out of focus, manipulated by an unseen hand.  I feel like if I could just clean my glasses, I would be able to see; to get it; but then it is gone and my eyes are skimming over the next line with only an echo of comprehension for what came before.    I now use a pencil, and fold down corners.  These mark small nuggets of wisdom that resonate with me in the moment.  It is still difficult to string them together.  I feel like I need to take notes; to find the common thread among all a read and knit them together

Maybe it's because I am on this spiritual journey, or maybe it is because I have time to read blogs and cruise the web, but 2014 seems a bit obnoxious so far.   Really IN YOUR FACE. Ok so it is not quite like this, but...... ....picture in your mind a saloon type town in the old west.  Got it?  Ok so now add a slick looking guy standing up on a wooden crate, surrounded by a crowd of people.  Beside the crate is a table, and on it are dozens bottles. He clears his throat, throws out his arms, and announces: It's a new year folks!  New year.....new YOU!  How would you like to tackle your SPENDING/DRINKING/SELF SABOTAGING/PROCRASTINATING/UNDEREDUCATED/OVERACHIEVING/ UNORGANIZED/OVERWEIGHT/GREYINGHAIR/DULL SMILE/SMOKING/BOUNDRYSETTING/DEPRESSED/ANXIOUS/EATINGDISORDER/OBSESSING/INTERNET-DEVICE ADDICTION problems....   RIGHT NOW!!! AND IF NOT, WHY NOT? OMG you think!!! (well OMG probably wasn't around then but...)   OMG I thin

My tiny home feels hollow today.   Devoid of the warmly lit tree so recently in residence, the flat chocolate milk corner is invisible.  Barren of garland and stockings, the timer of the washing machine echoes up the stairwell.  Things are in their place; rooms remarkable due only to the absence of color--- beige and brown and black and Grey ---inside and out. Children are driven back to their alternate homes---school---with their mother.  The stairs are silent.  My heart feels hollow today.  This is when you have to be very careful.  Spring waits to be born, while the Grey winter growls and shrieks and demonstrates its power; promising frigid temperatures, more snow and freezing rain on the heels of so much ice storm devastation. Caution.  On a day such as this, governed by the Grey; muted by snow; the temptation to allow it to blanket your mind with so much numbness is a reality not to be trifled with.  This month, bills arrive from well intentioned holiday purchases and whether

Change is hard.   It is particularly difficult when you are recovering from anxiety and depression.   Your old self, old habits, old mistaken beliefs, sit beside you in therapy looking like a comfortable blanket to throw over your raw, wounded self. It is easy to go back to what you know.  Putting yourself out there; being vulnerable and open to change; that is the hard stuff. In group therapy, I listened to people often lamented that they just wanted to go back to being who they were. That is exactly what I didn’t want.   Before each of my breakdowns (yes, there were two) my daily habits included not taking lunch breaks, working while I was sick, isolating myself, gossiping at work to fuel the fire of injustices (imaged and real), doing for everyone until I was so exhausted there was no time left for myself, then being resentful and wearing exhaustion like a badge of honor. That is what landed me in the hospital…..twice in 15 years.   Clearly this pattern was not serv

For 27 years I measured time not in the usual January to December way that most people do, but by the September to June clock that rules the life of a student and/or teacher.  I still get that flip in my stomach in early September; like I am supposed to be somewhere. And somehow, summers still feel more relaxed, even when you don't take any time off from work.  It may be because I have kids.  It will be interesting to see if I still feel this when my youngest is gone off to university.  I will have to wait another nine years to find out I guess.   In the shiny glow of this new 2014 I am feeling reflective on the last year.    Since my collapse, time has become slippery.  For the longest while, I felt like I was stuck in November 2012 when I went into the hospital.  Time lost its linear nature.  Without work, there was no sense of weekday or weekend. Monday blurred into Saturday.  Sunday was a fixed milestone however.  I meant making lunches, homework checked, backpack re

People say, (and by people I mean my therapists, my psychiatrist, my psychologist, my friends, my family......) that I should not care about what other people think. The way they say it, makes me feels like I am stupid; like it should be easy.  I have been off work for over a year and just recently, I am feeling like I am getting to know my true self, and I am incredibly vulnerable. I am raw and open when I do Reiki. Subtle voices, insidious in my ear, whisper quietly, "Who do you think you are doing Reiki?"  I am raw and open when I go to the women's group where we cook and eat and then do an hour meditation.   I reached out to them.  I needed to belong to something.  I needed people.  No, that is not right.  I needed sisterhood.  I used to pride myself on needing no one and wore it like a badge of honor.  Again the voices hiss, "Who do you think you are coming here? What makes you so special?" The voices are my own. I am shoring up my