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The first word I shared about was courage

by | Jul 23, 2020 | Uncategorized

Posted: 04 Mar 2014 08:24 PM PST

The first word I shared about was courage.
The next one on the list is: willingness.
Dictionary.com said the definition is:
Willingness: Cheerfully consenting or ready. Inclined, minded, freely or voluntary.

What I have learned in the process of therapy and recovery.
In the beginning we do not enter into it… cheerfully.
Usually we go because we have the realization in our heart; that life is not peaceful inside our ‘spirits’

and we realize something must change so we can heal.
When we are afraid we tend to not move forward, but we must in order for change to take place.
It takes courage to volunteer oneself into a therapy room and open your deepest wounds up to someone
you just met and then slowly begin to trust them.
It is about consenting and giving permission.
It is a knowing deep within yourself that this must take place in order for healing to begin.
What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life. (Leo Buscaglia)
Life is what we are striving for in the process of desiring something different.
.
We are giving permission to another person to ask questions and probe into our ‘darkest places’
in order for us to find healing and health.
I’ve never found therapy to be a sign of weakness, I found the opposite to be true.
As I opened up my heart, healing began to happen and my voice became stronger.

And strength and courage and willingness are all a part of therapy and recovery.
When we understand that this is very needed right now, we will not be the same when we are through with this process.

The first word I shared about was courage. The second is willingness.  
As we move into the rest of the words, may we learn and grow through this process.

Courage is not the absence of fear

by | Jul 21, 2020 | Uncategorized

Becoming REAL with oneself

The first word:

Courage is not the absence of fear but it’s taking action in the midst of it.
Dictionary.com says: Courage is:
The quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, without fear. bravery.
to take ones courage in both hands to nerve oneself to perform an action.
Courage is an action word.
When I first began my journey into recovery, I didn’t know what to expect and was not sure who to see or how to navigate through the unknowns.
There came a point in time when the realization came to me; if I didn’t do something… nothing would take place.
Nothing would change the way I was feeling.
So I began to ask questions.
I searched on line and interviewed well known counselors.
To admit to yourself or anyone else that one needs counseling takes courage.
A lot of it.
Emotionally I knew and was convinced; something had to be done for change to take place.
The journey of healing with a lady counselor began the day she asked me, “why are you in here today?”
That is when you find courage and truth and dig deep within yourself before you answer.
As time moves on you become more brave in finding your voice and
you become stronger each time you go in to talk.
“You gain strength, courage and confidence
by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.
You are able to say to yourself, ‘I lived through this horror.
I can take the next thing that comes along.’
Eleanor Roosevelt
Courage is not an easy word but when we finally become real with ourselves we find healing.
Courage doesn’t always roar.
Sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,
“I will try again tomorrow.” 
And each time I tried and took action to heal; the tomorrows became easier and the pain lessened.
Becoming real with ourselves is a huge part of having courage.
Courage is not the absence of fear but it’s moving in a direction towards it.   

A basket of words to think about

by | Jul 19, 2020 | Uncategorized

I’m revisiting a few of my old writings as many of the new readers have not read them.

Posted originally : 21 Feb 2014 09:51 PM PST
Restoring and renewing our thoughts about life, love and beauty.

Years ago when I entered into a season of therapy.
I was given at some point in time a basket of words.
They are heart shaped and etched into the pottery stone.
The basket is broken.
I don’t remember if it always was that way; but for me now,
it represents the fragile and broken spirit I had when entering into the season of healing.
In the recovery group we were instructed to pick a word and then write about it in our journal books.
Giving voice to our ‘thoughts’ on paper so the feelings would not stay hidden deep inside ourselves.
For many survivors feelings stay hidden and silenced and the only way out of that season of silence is to move through it.
The only way out is through.
We were told that over and over.
The only way out is through.
You must move from the dark places inside to a lighter ‘healing place’ restoring your spirit and your broken wounded self inside.
A broken leg cannot heal if one keeps walking on it, there must be a time for restoration and calm.
Then after a short time of ‘healing’ physical therapy begins so the bone can learn to to accept the pressure.
Emotional healing is very much the same concept.
Restoring the broken wounded child and moving her into a strong voice of an adult.
A few nights ago in the quiet of our room I woke up with the idea of writing the words as a blog post.
Each week one word would be written and focused on.
Exploring the meaning and the thoughts surrounding that word.

A basket of words representing new life.
Peace ~ delight ~ abundance ~ healing ~ beauty ~ rest ~ humor ~ balance ~ change ~ tenderness ~ play ~ willingness ~ courage ~ compassion ~ forgiveness ~ light ~ trust ~ power ~

A basket of words representing growth and health and empowerment.
When we are broken we don’t see the potential for healing.
We only feel the brokenness deep inside ourselves.
(or …we feel nothing at all)
We are not sure what to do with that internal mess; so many times those who enter into this journey go in with great resistance and fear because we don’t know or understand what it will look or feel like to put a voice to words.
Our feelings get misunderstood and jumbled and we remain closed off from them because they feel foreign and new to us.
Those who have lived in difficult places or scenes cannot begin to believe when entering a season of healing that it won’t always feel ‘this way’.
A basket of words is a good tool to start when working with someone who is closed off and resistant.
Our group leaders were brilliant and caring and compassionate and wise.
They were sensitive and gentle never pushing but always encouraging us to become stronger.
A basket of words is a good beginning, when the door to one’s heart and voice is closed.

Words that can bring life, hope, healing, and new awareness.
Words that challenge and re-direct our thoughts and minds.
Words that change the core of who we are and mature us into stronger people.
Words that change us deep within.
Restoring and Renewing our thoughts about life, love and beauty.

Another blast from the past funny post

by | Jul 13, 2020 | Uncategorized

One more blast from the past

Posted: 07 Feb 2015 08:31 PM PST

When my oldest grand daughter was in pre-school I would take her to school and pick her up every day.
She was with me all the time as her mom worked.
One day we were running a bit late, and we got in to the car, she was buckled in to the car seat and I drove down the road.
After coming to a stop, I turned left and began driving while I noticed blinking lights behind me.

Wondering what that was about I pulled over and the officers car pulled over behind me.
Now I couldn’t believe anything could have gone wrong having been in the car less than five minutes.
I rolled down my window and the officer said to me, “do you know why I pulled you over?”
I honestly could not so I told him I had no idea.
He said that I pulled out in front of him.
Anyone who knows me and knows how I drive, also knows I would not ever ‘pull’ out in front of a police car.
At this point while he was talking to me my grand daughter in the back seat lost her patience.

She said, “I am going to be late for school. We need to get going.”
I calmly told her to let the nice gentlemen talk to us.
She again reminded me it was a school day and she was going to be late and she didn’t like to be late for school.
I tried my best to get her to be more quiet, while not looking to obvious with a police man standing by my window.
He then said to her, “let me talk to your mommy and then you can leave for school,”
I thanked him and let him know I was grandma.
He then looked at my license and told me to be more careful before he walked away.
A verbal warning was wonderful and I was free to continue driving.
It was a crazy morning and even more crazy to be stopped.
Then I as we walked her into the pre-school room she excitedly told everyone about grandma and the police and how they stopped us and the lights were flashing and it was so exciting.
Another funny moment in the small town in Oregon.

Binoculars and a wild imagination

by | Jul 12, 2020 | Uncategorized

The next event that happened with the local police department was just a few weeks after the night incident.

My best friend who had recently gotten married after being widowed for almost seven years,
asked me to pick up her mail out of her mail box while they were on a short vacation.
I said, “sure I can do that I have done it before, no problem.”

She just lives about a quarter mile from me and it was easy to drive by quickly and pick her mail up.
When they got home I would give it all to them.
Easy thing to do for a friend, I thought it was no issue.

Only this time the neighbor… looked through her window and saw me at the mail box taking the mail out then driving away.
She immediately wrote down my license plate and yes you guessed it, she called the police department;
and told them I was stealing mail out of her neighbors mail box.
So one more time, around dinner time, we get a knock on the front door and two officers were there;
asking my husband if the white car in our driveway was mine. 
My husband said, “yes why are you asking?”
Well they said they received a report of mail theft and had to come over and check it out. 
My husband explained that she was my best friend and I was only helping her out.

I could not believe the nosy neighbor actually called the police, and they were at my door again, in less than a few weeks.
I am sure they were really beginning to wonder who Officer O’s mom really was.
Another funny moment in the life and small town in Oregon.

I call them night visitors

by | Jul 11, 2020 | Uncategorized

I called them night visitors

The next blast from the past funny moment.
The next funny moment with police officers happened just a few months after the last incident.

One night I was sitting in our family room watching a detective show.
I like criminal minds or NCIS or other detective shows like documentaries; as long as they are not too ‘gruesome’ in details.
This particular night I was in my bathrobe, and it was late around 10:30-11:00 and enjoying a glass of wine and relaxing before bed.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
I could not imagine who would be visiting this time of night.
Looking out the little hole in my door I noticed officers in uniform standing on the step.
I opened the door and saw one of them over by my garage and two of them standing before me as I greeted them in my bathrobe.
I asked them, “Can I help you?”
They said to me, “Mam we think someone is in your home; and we are here to see what is going on inside your house and make sure you are safe.”
I was shocked by what I heard because I knew it was only me and my cat and my husband who had gone to bed earlier.
They continued, “There was a 911 call from your home and we have been monitoring your open phone line and listening to conversations and we feel you are in danger perhaps there is an intruder in there with you.”
I was still shocked.
If there was an intruder wouldn’t I know it? asking myself who on earth would dial 911?
I said to them, “I will be right back”, as I shut the front door leaving them standing there waiting for the door to open again; and not knowing if I really had a bad guy observing my every move.
I rushed upstairs as fast as my slippers and bathrobe would let me, and woke up my husband asking him.
“Did you call 911?”
He was asleep and answered me in a groggy tone, “why would he do that?”
He asked me, “what was going on” and I told him “we had police at our door.”
Then I rushed back downstairs to open the door again, this time I found all three officers standing there requesting to come in to our home.
(In case this ever happens to you it is NOT good advise to shut a door on any officer of the law; especially if they think you might be in danger and especially if you have more than one.)
Of course by this time my husband was awake and downstairs inviting all officers in and we chatted about what might have happened.
The phone was set on speed dial and apparently it fell or was knocked into or whatever and it dialed 911.
There was no answer on my end of the phone of course because I didn’t know the police were there listening to it. They listened to part of the show on tv and apparently thought it was a real situation.
(no I am not making this up… it really happened.)

After chatting with them (I was still in my bathrobe) and after they realized ‘we’ were related to our son who worked at the station they left.

My husband went back to bed
and I went back to my much needed glass of wine.
As I sat down in my chair and thought about what just took place in the last half hour, I wondered what they really heard on that phone call and how long had they been listening?
Was I talking to myself??
or talking to my cat??
What on earth did they hear on the show to cause such a concern and what was I was watching?
Sure hope that never happens again.

Also I wondered what they said to each other as they left our house and what they wrote in the police report.
It must have been very interesting.
The next day I went into my work at the pharmacy and I just had to share with anyone who would listen to
another ‘adventure’ in the little home town in Oregon.

CLIP ART FOUND ON LINE FOR THE PURPOSE OF THE STORY

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