I stood on a bridge over this stream today.  This stream is one of many on the hiking trail I was on.  The streams turn into waterfalls which splash into a major river that feeds into one of the Great Lakes.  I stood on the bridge, which was just wooden slats, and held out my arms, and raised my head, and closed my eyes.  I could hear the stream rushing by and the wind in the trees above my head.  I imagined this stream of cold pure water rushing through my body and touching every cell in my body, making them clean, pure, refreshed, back to before they were damaged.  I felt the wind blowing through my body, dissipating all that isn’t mine to hold on to.  I was cleansed, at least for a moment, of the demons inhabiting my heart and soul.  I was once again baptized into my adulthood and the knowledge of my inherent innocence and purity.  I was whole.


How We Talk to Ourselves 

One of the things that my therapist talks about regularly with me is the language that I use.  Every session, we consult the thesaurus to look for the best words to describe a situation or feeling.  We also talk about the language I use to speak about myself and my experiences and the affect that language can have on me.   

Today, Jodi, a therapist and shaman that i know, posted this video.  She talks about the affect on us of acknowledging how well we are functioning despite how awful we may be feeling.   This suddenly made sense to me.  Self talk really does make a difference.  I can choose to tear myself down with my words or to build myself up eitwh my words.  Instead of saying to myself that I’m a mess because of all of my flashbacks and nightmares, I can choose to talk about the fact that I’m still functioning well as a parent, a wife, and a friend in spite of feeling tired and drained due to tbe flashbacks and nightmares.

I’m making a commitment to myself to work on being aware of how I talk to myself, and changing it to build myself up, instead of tearing myself down.

Thanks. Jodi!


Once a month, I get a massage.  I met G, my massage therapist about years ago when i was teaching a foster parenting vlass and she was a new foster parent.  After one of the classes, i was talking with G and her wife and G mentioned that she was a massage therapist.  My own psychotherapist at the time had been encouraging me to try massage.  As soon as G mentioned doing massage, i knew that someday, she would give me my first massage.  Later, i looked G up on my friend Google, and found that she had become interested in massage during her recovery from incest issues.  I knew.  I knew.  I knew she would get it.  

It was a few more years, and i contacted G about massage, telling her a little about my healing journey and putting some parameters around my boundaries.    G took everything in stride.  No table.  No clithes removed.  Just touch my back and hands.  Then after my bariatric surgery  a coupke of years ago, i was diagnosed with fibromyalgia.  I needed to find different methods of dealing with the pain.  Acupuncture, meditation, and….massage.  

I laid on the table for the first time ever.  I had nothing but underpants on.  G touched me gently and stopped when things were too hard.  But, she also challenged me and suggested things that might feel good.  We found that more firm presssure was better than soft.  I learned to ask for what i needed.  Do that again.  Not there tonight. Harder.  Softer.  Stop.  Can i please have a blanket?  All of my requests were met with respect and delight.  I found myself becoming more relaxed duriing my massages and benefitting more and more from them.  

Thr last few weeks have been very difficult for me.  Fibro flare.  Nightmares and flashbacks.  My best friend died.  I had a massage the night of her funeral.  G suggested we make a commitment to be quiet.  I agreed.  The table warmer was on.  A warmed rice bag was on my feet.  Beautiful music was playing.  For the time I was on my stomach, i just sunk into the foam pad on the table.  I was comforted by the heat sources .  And i was in a wonderful cozy place… somewhere on the cusp of sleep or deep meditation, yet very aware of the hands ministering to my body.  I felt like I might have finally found my body after all of these years.  I was comforted.

Me, too.

Even without the horrific sexual abuse I endured at the hands of many people, i was sexually harassed by several men in my life.    One of them, notably, was my father.  When i was 13 or 14 years old, he told me that I should wear high heels because men liked the way that legs looked in high heels. And if I didn’t dress to attract a man, how was I ever going to get a man?  My mother was present for this comment anbd agreed with him.  I was 13 or 1r, and they were worried ablaboutut a man being sexually attracted to me.  Most fathers would want to protect their daughters from this kind of attention, but not mine.

Manifesting What I Acknowledge

My therapist recently emailed me this article.  It talks about expressing fulfillment/contentment with what we already have as only then can your wished be manifested.  The article talks about the creative power setting the universe in motion to fulfill your wishes only as you see them already happening.

Create Completeness


When we affirm that we are fulfilled rather than deficient, we are asserting that contentment is a natural way of being.
The creative power of the universe is infinite. A single molecule’s destiny is as important as the consequences of the largest supernova. Human potential is subject to this power, but because we are sentient beings, each of us is permitted to choose whether we will struggle against it or work in tandem with it. When we give voice to our desires through focused meditation or solicit the help of spirit guides, we draw upon the universe’s creative power to achieve certain ends. However, because our words are not all the universe hears, the response we receive may surprise us. The discourse we establish through our appeals is a blend of speech, thought, intention, and subconscious reflection. When we ask the universe for something, the unspoken message is that what we want does not exist, and the universe accepts this as truth. Conversely, we manifest completeness through affirmations in which we declare our desires as if we have already obtained them. 

When we affirm that we are fulfilled instead of articulating deficiencies, we are asserting that contentment is a natural and necessary element of human existence. Our essence is an expression of fulfillment–the universe wants to satisfy our needs and desires. When we describe our realities in positive terms, we are not denying the challenges inherent in existence. We choose not to focus on lack or dissatisfaction because we understand that the energy of our thoughts will determine the response we receive to our entreaties. Ask yourself how you would feel if your wishes were granted, and then allow yourself to internalize that emotional state. Try to create a picture of satisfaction so vivid that its reality is unquestionable and tell the universe that your vision is fact. At the close of your appeal, express your gratitude, as it is your acknowledgment of the truth of your fulfillment that will set the creative power of the universe into motion. 

Working in perfect unison with the creative power of the universe will empower you to manifest spiritual realities in your material existence. As you affirm the beauty, peace, and goodness that already exist within in your life, your capacity to sense and understand their influence will become increasingly sophisticated. To meet your needs and achieve your desires, you need then only banish all thoughts of emptiness so that the energy of completeness can attract fullness into your being.

So, what is it that I wish to see and that I can already express gratitude for?  I am grateful for being a warrior.  I am a warrior in surviving my childhood, I am a warrior in parenting my children, I am a warrior in my healing process.  I can show people that it is possible to live a childhood such as mine and not stay a victim.  I will show people that you can also live a childhood such as mine and grow up to live in peace.  I don’t have to fight for every inch of healing.  My healing is happening and I see a universe in which I can have complete healing.  I have the courage to face that which I have not yet and I have support to do that.  I have within me what I need to heal and I have guides to help me on the path to healing.  I accept what happened to me and I accept the pain that comes with healing from what happened to me.  I accept that the journey is long and hard, but also sometimes beautiful.  I was chosen to parent my children because I can do it.  It is hard.  It is frustrating.  It is joyful.  I’ve done harder things and I am here to tell the story.  And so it will be with parenting my children.  I don’t know where the journey will take me, but I can climb mountains and I can walk through fire and I can rest in meadows and by streams.

Lately, I’ve been dealing with an onslaught of nightmares and flashbacks.  They do relate to a certain period in my life.  I’ve been reluctant to really look at that period due to wariness of what my therapist will think and what my body’s reaction will be and if it’s overdoing it to continue talking this time in my life.  I really haven’t talked about it except to relay a couple of incidences.  I experience total revulsion when thinking about the contents of these nightmares and flashbacks, and I’m realizing that some of my apprehension comes from thinking that my therapist will experience the same revulsion and maybe cannot handle it.  She has handled anything else that I have spoken of, but I’m realizing that is a primary fear of mine that people will find me as revolting as I think I am due to the things that happened to me.  Ugh.  That really doesn’t make much sense once I type it out.  I’m not revolting.  What was done to me was repugnant and detestable, but I am not.  But, are these things too gross to be spoken of more deeply than glossing over them.  I hope not.  I can deal with these flashbacks and nightmares through my courage and my perseverance.  I will deal with them and with the inner 14 year old who is putting them out there.  And I will handle my inner 14 year old with compassion and gentleness.


I’ve been having nightmares lately, almost like sleeping flashbacks.  I’ve been almost not sleeping.  I’ve also been doing almost no work on my childhood trauma in therapy.  I’ve had other stuff to focus on…my wife refusing to admit that she is physically falling apart, my oldest son with his increasingly intense behavioral issues, my constantly failing friendships, my seeming social ineptness.  But, I think in not spending time on my childhood stuff, I’ve forced my mind, my heart, my younger parts to leak the stuff out anyway possible; hence the nightmares.  And I’m realizing that most of these nightmares are of events that took place between the ages of 10 and 14.  In fact, this evening, I took time to attempt to list out everything that happened in those years.  It was so much, and so completely horrifying, that I dry heaved through the writing of the list.  It was pretty gross, but pretty telling of just how petrified i must have been as a kid.  I am overwhelmed by the ghastly things I lived through in those years, and for the first time ever, I also found myself totally awed by the child who could survive those things, and not die.  That child, not only survived, but found people to love her.  That child grew up to be a good person….a good wife, good mother, good friend. 

So, that is the state of my heart right now…overwhelmed and awed (and intensely nauseous…yuck).


I’m realizing that lots of times, it’s been me that gets hurt when I don’t know the rules. I didn’t know the rules sbout how to be sa kid in my family.  And right now, I apparently don’t know  the ruled of many friendships.  I guess that if my family were a real family and my friends were real friends, they would make sure I knew the rules.  In fact,  I’m wondering if there should even be rules.  I only have one rule with my friends, “please do not hurt me intentionally”.  However, apparently, supposed friendships can have many kther rules.  And then, i start to wonder, are those people really my friends?