WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? LOVE?

The beginning, today, of Advent and the excitement of anticipating the holidays made me wonder what each of us is really waiting for. Have you thought about that question and found a personal answer?

People struggling with anxiety are waiting for the anxiety to diminish. People struggling with depression are waiting for the depression to lift. People suffering from the effects of trauma are waiting for the flashbacks and the nightmares and the negative thoughts and the fears to subside.

We’re also waiting, different ones of us, for the bills to get caught up and the shopping to be finished and the party to be attended and the presents to be wrapped. We’re waiting for the next meal, a good night’s sleep, and…… a break.

We’ll get all those wishes. The anxiety, depression and PTSD wax and wane. We’ll get the bills paid, and then they’ll pile up again. Christmas, or whatever holiday we celebrate, will come and go. We’ll be hungry and then satisfied and get hungry again.

After thirty-some years as a therapist, I would tell you with certainty that there are a few things people are waiting for day in and day out which are not so easily found or created or resolved. One of these “things” is love. More people are waiting for love than anything else in the world. More people are hungering for love, starving for love, and dying for lack of love. You probably remember the research: married men live longer than single men. Teachers can easily identify the children who come from loving homes — they’re happier, healthier and better behaved.

As a marriage and family therapist the first thing I do in an intake session is a genogram of the client’s family of origin. My first questions are, “What’s your mother’s first name?” and “Tell me about your mother.” No exaggeration, at least half the time that person I never met before looks at me as if I’ve gotten into his/her head and heart, gives me a rueful smile, and says, “Well, that’s probably the problem.” They’re amazed I figured it out in the first minutes of the first session. I didn’t, of course. Odds are, though, if you are seeking therapy you are NOT feeling loved. If you are NOT feeling loved, odds are something went amiss with the first love lesson we all need: the benevolent gaze of our mother. If she is a fairly healthy, happy person who got a good benevolent gaze herself, she will take one look at us and fall hopelessly in love with the blank slate we are, shriveled and unhappy about being dislodged from our warm womb cocoon, uncombed or hairless, naked, whining or crying, and that besotted woman will start cooing and telling us we are the most beautiful thing she has ever seen in her whole life. Her hands will softly stroke our heads or cheeks. The rest of the world will vanish for her, and she’ll only have eyes for us.

That’s what is supposed to happen.

It’s supposed to continue with kindness, discipline, protection, five years of in-home daily teaching, healthful meals, warm, safe beds, laughter, exercise and endless, fairly unconditional love. A man is necessary for the moment of origination of each of us, that aforementioned man who, again, if things go well, gets and stays married to the mother of his children and, consequently, lives longer than his single friend. This man is a very necessary participant in the raising of the child. It is he who must prepare the child for real life. Therapists use birds to explain the male/female roles. The female is to build the nest and keep the baby safely in the nest. The male is to ready the baby for reality, including flying solo, because it is the male’s job to kick the baby out of the nest. MANY men and women do not understand that these roles are mutually important and mutually exclusive — hard to keep the baby in the nest and kick it out at the same time. If each allows the other, with support and a bit of a good cop/bad cop role play, to do his/her role and sticks to her/his role — all goes smoothly.

Human love, from the very beginning, is complicated and complex. Add the element of choice, when we choose which bird we’ll build a nest with, and you’ve got something resembling Russian roulette. Throw in personalities, poverty, addictions, genetic legacies — like suicides and selfishness — and it is no wonder we are yearning for a simple benevolent glance from someone who sees us at our worst and thinks the best of us. Add on to this impossible scenario people who want to make money. How, they might ask, are we going to get people to spend their money? How about if we tell them they will be more likely to be LOVED if they have sweet breath, straight hair, slim figures, head-turning wardrobes, fast cars and beautiful homes. People will pay anything for the promised possibility of love.

So, what are we waiting for? We’re waiting to buy something which cannot be sold. I remember a couple I worked with who came in with hate and scorn dripping from their lips. They despised each other. (They say most couples seek marital therapy 2 to 5 years too late. Surely these two were too late.) I asked them the question most likely to soften hard hearts: what attracted you to him/her in the first place. The wife looked at me while she waved her arm in her husband’s direction: “He looks like Adonis!” The Greek god snarled, “She’s drop dead beautiful.” They bought the bill of goods. They wanted their money back. All the beauty in the world didn’t give either of them a lick of kindness or wisdom.

You know why so many people are yearning for love? As a society and culture we’ve forgotten what love is. I saw two examples recently, both from the same man. I was riding with him in a car and we stopped at a light where a panhandler stood with his cardboard sign. “Money,” my friend said, and I dug in my purse and pulled out a couple dollars. My friend rolled down his window and said, “Hey, brother. How you doing today?” He handed him the money. “I hope you have a good rest of the day. Love you, brother,” and we pulled away. We were on our way to a nursing home to visit a bedridden woman he had befriended. He walked right up to the bed and gave her a hug. There he stood in a puddle of pee that had leaked off her rubber mattress and onto the floor. Unfazed, he open a sandwich he had brought her and tore it into bites, feeding her a bite at a time, talking to her as she ate. She scratched her head almost continually. He asked her if her head itched. She told him it had been too long since she had gotten her hair washed. He went into the bathroom, washed the sandwich off his hands, and proceeded to spend about ten minutes rubbing and scratching her head for her.

Love isn’t easy. Love isn’t pretty. Love isn’t sanitized. You know it when you receive it because it is a connection that goes beyond superficial charms straight to the depths of our beings. You know it when you receive it because you feel seen and heard and accepted. You know when you give it because you feel better than you actually are, more real, more kind, more thoughtful, more generous.

Love has no religion and no nationality. Love speaks no one language or has no single skin tone. Love is not kept for those with bank accounts or denied to those whose minds are fragmented or whose bodies are differently formed. Love isn’t a noun. Love is a verb. Love isn’t love until its put into action. So, WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR? As Gandhi said: BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD.

May love flow to and from each of us. May we be that for which we wait. My love to you, Susan

 

 

 

Advertisements

December 3, 2017 at 8:19 AM Leave a comment

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

Are you waiting for this week’s post? Due to a one-day workshop on Saturday, this week’s post will appear (God willing and the creek don’t rise) Sunday morning, December 3rd. Our theme for December is: “What Are You Waiting For?” Until then, a thought to ponder…….

“There is no Methodist or Catholic way of loving.”

— Richard Rohr

November 30, 2017 at 9:58 AM Leave a comment

Would Rumi Have Loved Weebles?

Weebles were popular when my kids were little. Being boys, they couldn’t stay still long enough to watch the chubby little bodies continually find their “set point,” their equilibrium, even when it looked for sure that they were going to topple. I, on the other hand, was fascinated by Weebles and what they had to teach us about resiliency and homeostasis.

This time of year, it is particularly vital we remember that we are going to land back in balance even when it feels like we’re going down and under for sure. Here’s the problem for those of us with anxiety, depression or trauma backgrounds: our set-point, our default gear, is colored, shadowed and distorted by our experiences as anxious, depressed or traumatized people. This is never more true than when we are under stress of any kind. We tend to revert to our old survival methods. It’s too risky to try to stay “positive” and employ the new things we’ve learned. Back to survival we go. We can only worry about thriving when we’re sure we’re going to be surviving.

Here’s the opportunity in this problem. We’re off balance already. The snow in the snow globe is swirling into a blizzard. We have a chance to let the snow land in the side yard instead of letting it block the front door. The snow could blow against the fence or settle itself behind the barn instead of piling up against the windows and shutting out the light. You see, those poor little Weebles never got anywhere. The’d flip and slip and toss and turn and always land back exactly where they started. They had all this potential for movement and remained stuck.

For the next four weeks, Christians celebrate Advent, anticipating the birth of Jesus. During these four weeks, I’m going to be asking you, “What are you waiting for?” We’re going to talk about the chances we have to get unstuck and make some forward progress when we get knocked off balance.

For today, I’d just like to share my favorite Rumi poem. Rumi, a Sufi mystic who died in 1273, believed the ebb and flow of human emotions, the loss of balance, the falls from grace, the seeming stumbles, were all of the greatest value.

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.                                                                                                                                          Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,                                                                                                                                               some momentary awareness comes                                                                                                                                         as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all.                                                                                                                                               Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,                                                                                                                                         who violently sweep your house                                                                                                                                                 empty of its furniture,                                                                                                                                                                   still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out                                                                                                                                                         for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,                                                                                                                               meet them at the door laughing                                                                                                                                                 and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,                                                                                                                                                 because each has been sent                                                                                                                                                         as a guide from beyond.

Rumi — translated by Coleman Barks

May peace rest in your heart and blessings sprinkle the path before you.

And, please, remember, you are not alone.

Love, Susan

November 25, 2017 at 9:03 AM 1 comment

A DAY FOR GIVING THANKS

“We see no need for the setting apart one day in seven as holy. For us all days belong to God,” said Ohiyesa, Dakotah Sioux. I wonder if this thought strikes you as it strikes me: Duh. Of course. How obvious. I read the words of a Native American from another century and realize the irony in setting apart ONLY ONE day in SEVEN.

The irony intensifies when we think about setting apart ONLY one day out of every three hundred and sixty-five to be thankful. I think we might just have zeroed in on one of the reasons this world seems so selfish and entitled. But that is for the theologians and spiritual teachers to talk about. I’m here to focus on the mental health issues of anxiety, depression and PTSD. Does GRATITUDE, on a single day or whenever we become attuned to it, effect our mental health?

Anxiety, depression and trauma reactions all change our brain and body chemistry. Please always remember that I understand that, and I hope you do, too. Sometimes out of nowhere, we get flooded with the mania of anxiety, the flat, exhaustive apathy of depression, or the white, hot rage of PTSD. We are knocked to our knees and can find no thought or feeling or action on our part which precipitated this flood of chemical misery. I get that. When this happens, the best thing we can do is simply be still and wait for the flood waters to subside.   We have to give ourselves a time out. We wouldn’t hesitate if we had the flu. Time for a day off, cancelled plans, the couch or the bed and a warm blanket.

What I want to talk about are the anxiety, depression or trauma reactions over which we do have some control. Fear, sadness and anger are all emotions, and every emotion we feel is preceded by a thought. Therefore, what we think determines how we feel, give or take the physical or emotional flu over which we are mostly powerless. I’m repeating this point to make sure that you know I am not expecting either myself or you to be able to think ourselves healthy twenty-four/seven/three sixty-five. We can, however, think ourselves healthier in more ways, more of the time. We can certainly do so more than one day a year.

It turns out gratitude, a grateful heart, and a mind full of thanks giving are wonderfully health-promoting, physically and emotionally. Gratitude may well be the Vitamin C of our emotional medicine cabinet. Maybe even the multi-vitamin.

Gratitude relieves tension. We involuntarily relax when we are thinking about people and things for which we are grateful. Try it. See what happens when we say to ourselves, “I am so glad . . . Whew, was I ever lucky when . . . What a blessing that . . .” One of my granddaughters is now eleven plus years beyond her cancer diagnosis and surgery. My daughter-in-law and I still use that momentous event as our watermark. Nothing else matters. Everything else is small potatoes. With a gift like that recovery, we do our best to never ask for anything else. We simply say, “Thank you,” and we do this routinely when things we’d like to complain about pop up, and we want to rail about the unfairness of life. You have such blessings in your life, too. Use them as your watermarks. See what happens to the tension in your body when you focus, gratefully, on what went right.

This month’s AARP Magazine (yes, I’m old enough to read it) features an interview with Ted Danson in which he describes himself as “a mess and a half,” living with “an undercurrent of anxiety that no level of fame or success could squelch.” There is always fear, he says, “and it’s all the human stuff: jobs, work, money, kids, health. Now, when I have a fearful thought, I flip it into gratitude.” He gives the example of worrying that something has happened to his wife if she’s delayed getting home. “Thank God I have the opportunity to be married to a woman I love so much.” He realizes his love is what activates his fear, so he steps back into the love and tells himself: “Aren’t you lucky?” Interestingly, he also shares that “the right SI pelvic joint on his L5 vertebra acts up whenever he goes into panic mode.” That mind/body connection!!!

Gratitude stirs hope. Hope provides energy and the courage to look forward instead of staying stuck in the past. While anxiety is rooted in fear for the future, depression is firmly grounded in regret from the past. If it happened before this minute in time there’s not a thing you can do about it, except, learn from it. One of my goals in life is not to make the same mistake twice. There are so many exciting, fascinating new mistakes to make. Why ride the same old merry-go-round? Rethinking it will not change the outcome or bring us to a different destination. Let’s try something new. I’m convinced this is why people love travelling. New sights, scenes, places, and cultures are energizing. Mastering new skills is confidence building, and travelling demands mastering new skills. On my last trip, I finally mastered using my phone for my boarding pass. I felt brilliant and quite a modern woman. On the same trip, for the first time ever, I hoisted my suitcase over my head into the luggage rack instead of checking my bag. Heaven only knows what I’ll conquer the next time I go somewhere. It is hard not to be grateful for new accomplishments which stir energy and hope.

Gratitude is mutually exclusive of anger. You cannot be angry and grateful at the same time. Suppose I’m angry at my brother. He didn’t do or say something I needed him to do or say which hurt my feelings, and now I feel alienated from him. Then I think about the way he took the burden on his shoulders when each of our parents died. Immediately, I’m over my anger and concentrating on how selflessly he assumed that responsibility and how thoroughly he handled every detail. I am so grateful. Often we get angry at people when they don’t do things our way. Actually, we should be eternally relieved that we all have different talents. In Christian language, we are all the Body of Christ, and, as Richard Rohr says, he is a “mouth.” Others are willing hands or busy feet or strong backs or soft hearts.

So . . . without the turkey or the Norman Rockwell pretence of the perfect family or the need for a holiday, let’s just carry the gratitude with us moment by moment, day by day. Right now, I am very thankful to you – YOU – for sharing this journey with me.

Gratefully, Susan

November 18, 2017 at 9:38 AM Leave a comment

Letting go of “Admiration”

Hello, my friends — check out the statements below:

“Good job!”

“You look so pretty!”

“You nailed it.”

“You are the smartest guy in the room!”

“You must have graduated first in your class.”

“You get promotion after promotion!”

“You have the best figure, so slender and muscular!”

“You sure know how to talk to people.”

“You have helped me so much.”

Whether we’re being complimented on our physical bodies, our sharp minds, or our sweet personalities, we sure do love admiration, don’t we? It feels great to be seen, appreciated, and valued. Here’s the catch, though. (Why does there always have to be a catch?) We are all addicted to praise. Addicted, I say. Addicted, I mean.

An addiction is something we get a little of and then develop an insatiable appetite for. If we are not getting a steady diet of praise and adulation, we get anxious: What am I doing wrong? We get depressed: What’s wrong with me? And we get angry: why are people so withholding and stingy with compliments. Or we get angry at ourselves: I am such a screwup. Or we get angry at the traumatic events and people in our past and decide that since we are trauma survivors we don’t deserve praise — those people or events have ruined our lives.

Something else really tragic happens, too. We have elevated our faith in the praise from others and ignored our own voices. We know if we’ve done something well, whether it’s make the bed or be a good friend. We know when we’ve done something poorly, whether its road rage or a snarky comment to the clerk at Aldi’s. But, we’ve stopped looking inside, if we ever did, for our own validation and affirmation. We’ve come to only trust the judgment of others. This is another way in which we desert ourselves, diminish ourselves and slowly destroy our SELF-esteem in preference for the esteem of others.

We’ve stopped paying attention to our internal feedback. Much of the feedback happens on a cellular level. When we behave admirably, our bodies hum. We feel a sense of peace and well-being. We tend to feel energized and upbeat. We are more likely to sing, whistle or smile. We feel generous. We have just filled our own “pot,” as Virginia Satir, the Mother of Marriage and Family Therapy, called it. She saw low self-esteem as the biggest problem in the world.

When we behave poorly, our bodies reveal our self-condemnation. We get defensive, bitchy, irritable, cranky, and often develop somatic issues: stomach aches, headaches, heartburn, and body aches of all kinds caused by the tension we’re trying to hide from ourselves. A quick admission, like, “Wow. I need to do that better next time,” can cure a ton of ills.

A word to trauma survivors in particular. Self-editing, taking responsibility for our own behaviors and self-forgiveness come very hard to those who were abused as children. That segment of the population tend to feel shame — I AM WRONG — instead of guilt — I DID SOMETHING WRONG. Shame is a heavy burden to bear. It’s so sad because children who are being abused are usually dependent on the abuser. Because they can’t blame someone on whom they are dependent, (the abuser or the silent parent who allows the abuse,) they learn early to blame themselves. Abusers are only too happy to support this innocent acceptance of childhood shame.

All of which is to say: learning to free ourselves from the praise of others and depend on our own self-knowledge is difficult enough for those of us who feel guilty when we act inappropriately. It is extremely difficult for those who were raised on shame. BE GENTLE WITH YOURSELVES.

One final word on how to handle praise without “letting it go to our heads.” For me, the formula is in the Christmas story in the Bible. “Mary held these things in her heart.” We can hold the validation and kind words lightly in our hearts. Who wouldn’t? But we don’t need to let ourselves be inflated or deflated by the opinions of others. We need to let go of our need for admiration and trust our own self-monitoring.

AND, when you do get a compliment, be sure to return a compliment: “How kind of you. Thank you.”

Peace and harmony as we travel more lightly, together. Love, Susan

 

 

November 11, 2017 at 3:17 PM Leave a comment

Letting Go of “Safety”

Hello friends — Welcome to today’s edition of unpacking our bags and lightening our loads. The connection between healing from trauma, anxiety and depression and travelling light cannot be stated too strongly. Picture two travellers in the airport. The one with the multiple suitcases and bags is struggling, exhausted, unfriendly, and miserable. The guy or girl with the simple backpack is light on his or her feet, looking around, interacting with people, seemingly enjoying the adventure. The one with all the stuff is a neurotic mess because he has to protect all the stuff. The vagabond has nothing to protect since there is no excess. I don’t know if you have read Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series, but Jack travels with a toothbrush and the clothes on his back. Now that’s light!

When we are overwhelmed by too much stuff, even if that stuff is the need for security or safety or esteem or affection, we are focused and fixated on getting and keeping all the “stuff” we need. Now safety may not seem like something we want to unpack, but, believe me, it is. Being cautious is, of course, necessary. We need to stick to the speed limit, lock our car in the mall parking lot, and pay attention to our surroundings. If we’re instructed to evacuate the island, I vote for evacuating. It’s not the physical safety which ends up messing with us — it’s the emotional need so many of us have to “play it safe.”

Listen to these familiar words from Robert Frost: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I was that I could not take them both, but I took the one less travelled, and that has made all the difference.” He took the unfamiliar, the uncharted. He took a risk. THAT HAS MADE ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

How does taking the road less travelled make all the difference? When we take the road most travelled, we align with the majority. We conform. We fit in. We swallow and hide our uniqueness. We ignore our inner voice. We push away the soul messages. Most of us have received “messages,” “nudges,” “signs,” to take a stand, speak our truth, be ourselves. Yes, but, if we do  . . . someone will get angry, disapprove, unfriend us, we say to ourselves. Our moral imperative is: DO IT ANYWAY.

Each of us is particularly and specially designed to add our own unique seasoning to the stew. But, we say, no one else is adding oregano. THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE THE OREGANO. No one else is adding honey. THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE THE HONEY. We each have a role in this amazing human drama that no one else has been given. When we don’t listen, when we play it safe and go with the crowd, there is no one else to take our role. Our small, but perhaps essential, part in the drama that is the family of man, goes unspoken, unacted, undeveloped.

“Oh, Susan,” you’re thinking, “If you knew the things I’ve thought of doing, the messages I’ve thought I’ve received, the parts I’ve imagined I could possibly play . . . you’d be appalled.” REALLY? You are saying this to the woman who is writing a blog on letting go of safety? You think you feel weird? The daughter-in-law who actually likes me calls me “ODD.” I don’t even want to imagine what the others call me.

Steve Perkins, a wonderful mentor and friend, was fond of saying, “What others think of me is none of my business.” He totally supported his clients and the therapists with whom he worked in being their own best selves. Phil Hockwalt, another great mentor, gave up a lucrative career in accounting to become a therapist.  No one has ever changed the course of humanity by going with the crowd. All positive, life-affirming change comes from the single voice that dares to have a different, previously unspoken, unique opinion.

Joan of Arc was accused of being imaginative. “Those voices you think you hear,” her accusers said, “are just your imagination.” She agreed. “Of course they are. God speaks to us through our imaginations.” As Richard Rohr says, “There are many holy names for God.”  If “God” is not the name you use, who cares. Use what name you wish. As Jesuit Father and Zen Roshi Robert Kennedy says, “There are as many truths as there are leaves in the forest.” Just listen to your truth and follow your bliss and stand up for what you know to be right and good and loving. Don’t play it safe. Take the path less travelled. It will make all the difference.

Next week we’ll be talking about letting go of our need to be esteemed, admired, and looked up to. That is a source of a lot of anxiety, depression and trauma triggering. I hope these thoughts are making sense to you as you read them and that you are allowing these ideas to lighten your emotional load and free you for adventures on some new, less travelled roads!

Peace and love to you, Susan

 

November 4, 2017 at 8:54 AM Leave a comment

Letting Go of “Security” — Take Two

Hello, my friends —

Thank you so much for the comments about last week’s post. Clearly, I wasn’t very clear, so, let’s try this again from sort of a different vantage point. We’re going to start with a short poem:

Ever since the storm

Blew the roof off the house,

I have a much better view

Of the moon.

Sweet, idealistic poem from someone who lives in a hut on a desert island, right? Doesn’t apply to us. Imagine if the roof blew off our house? Why, in one night everything would be ruined — the bedding would be damp with humidity, the rug would get mildew, the drywall would get clammy  and moldy and have to be replaced, not to mention what would happen to our stuff, if anything was left after the thieves and looters got done taking advantage of our easy access. Vultures would swoop in and get the cat. I mean, really, the more I think about it, that’s a ridiculous poem — nothing positive about having the roof blow off our house.

But, you see, the roof blowing off the house is a metaphor for us losing the illusion of security. We like to believe we have the “lid” on everything and we are safe and sound. We’ve got our houses “locked up,” the alarms “armed,” the smoke detectors have fresh batteries, the phone is beside the bed so we can dial 911, and so it is safe to take our Xanax or Tylenol P.M. or trazodone and chemically turn our brains off so we can get some sleep.

I am speaking as a mental health professional who listens to people who are struggling with anxiety, depression and the after effects of trauma. Our demand for personal security, our unending campaign to keep ourselves safe and untouched, our physical and emotional dis-ease if we feel exposed or vulnerable — are doing us great harm.

Here’s the nugget of meaning from the poem: When the illusions of security disappear, we rely on what is there and has been there all along. The moon, the stars, the galaxy, the universe — for almost 14 billion years those stars and planets have been staying on course. For fourteen billion years the ocean has been ebbing and flowing. Which should I align with, something that has been in place for four years — the roof of my house — or something which has been steadfast for fourteen billion years, the moon?

We have complicated our lives so completely that we are like the people in Plato’s famous cave illustration. We have our backs to the opening of the cave and are staring straight ahead at the wall of the cave, jumping and terrified at the shadows on the wall. “Freedom” lies just outside the doorway of the cave, but we’re paying attention to the wrong things. A modern day example is the way people responded to the recent eclipse: they headed to their computers to get the highlights. Who has time to watch a whole eclipse? You could hurt your eyes. Who cares that a miracle of nature is happening outside? The lights of Macy’s never dimmed — shop on!

Again, I say, my concern with this is that we are creating and maintaining for ourselves a cycle of suffering which is unknown in human history. We are the architects and constructors and maintainers of our own dis-eases and discomforts and disastrous mental health issues because we are focused on the wrong things. Our mental health diet is as poisonous as our physical diet. We need to return to the organic, natural feast that has been here for billions of years and is waiting for us, available to us. Think of this as food. If we ate what the ocean and the earth provide, we’d be incredibly healthy. If we ingested and digested more sunlight and moonlight and starlight instead of so much computer light and television light, our eyes would be less strained and our minds less frenetic.

We’ve gotten away from what is mentally healthy — silence, nature, focusing on “the” world instead of “my” world. We need a clearer view of the moon — and not from the computer screen.

Next week we’re going to talk about letting go of the illusion of safety. The template for our taking control of our own health – emotional, physical, psychological – is in our ability to perceive and choose a healthy “diet.” We can do this, and be more robust, more energetic, more positive, and more loving — both to ourselves and others — as well as a more grateful, thankful people for this earth-walking privilege we have been given. One step at a time, one perception widened or deepened, and our anxiety (fear) diminishes a little, our depression (sadness) lifts a little, our traumatic reactions (often, anger) calms a little. Try not to get discouraged, my friends. It is hard work, but a community of us are journeying together.

Love, peace and blessings to you, Susan

 

October 28, 2017 at 4:27 PM Leave a comment

Older Posts Newer Posts


Purchase Susan’s Books by Clicking the Book Below

Book Cover: Many Faces of PTSD

Pillar of Light Foundation

Subscribe To Our RSS Feed

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 203 other followers


%d bloggers like this: