“If you are always trying to be normal,
you will never know
how amazing you can be.”
~ Maya Angelou
“If you are always trying to be normal,
you will never know
how amazing you can be.”
~ Maya Angelou
Relationships are much like sunlight flirting with shadows or like the scurry of bird’s feet speaking with the earth -- just before flight. Relationships evoke emotions that ride with waves that kiss the tempest inside of us; with learned trust, we are rarely not too far from a lighthouse that will bring us closer to the sea caves of our awareness. This is a place of fierce love. That bold, shy, quiet, raging holiness where we see for the first time, again and again, that our mistakes are our gifts. Our heated complexities double-bind us until we stop running from our shadows and embrace them as one of us. Instead of exquisitely trying to deny and displace them. Such are the projections we narrate that ‘they’ could not be ‘us’ and yet ‘they’ are ‘us’ in the most extraordinary way. This isn’t easy. However, when we begin to see clearer, we can step into our shadows and befriend our personal eclipses.
Our conflicts, distrusts, poignantly distressed relationships, as well as golden ones are almost certainly there to teach our soul the colors are within. And maybe, as we continue to walk along this bridge, we will understand that this love is real as it is whole and holy us.
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When sadness comes, welcome her as you would joy. She has a message too. Joy is simple to share; there’s something warm to hold onto. But with sorrow, there’s an abyss that struggles to find the narrowest ledge. Grey drains to empty. The sands underneath shift with torrential rains. Midnight stays, and songs lay low with the bass of sorrow’s belly. Sorrow is a warrior’s instrument reaching inside and using rib to strum heart. She is alone. Thoughts can drown there. Tiny opaque birds will peck at the remains of the shedding skin too small for what is to come. In sorrow’s snare spiritual growth isn’t vertical; it wanders like plankton far out to sea – lost and speaks a language of eyes-closed-dreaming-wild. Its words burn defeat. Sadness will engulf all successes and erase them to a dried shell abandoned on a beach. And there, the carcass waits for life to circle through. Sorrow’s tears are the sea healing what feels insurmountable. The passage of time ends to let wind blow through the hollow holes of loneliness. Only those who can recognize it will hear the oboe’s lament. A bittersweet song of hope. I’ve been thinking about what is it that I do as a licensed mental health counselor. How can I describe what I offer?
And so, in my truest heart-space, I looked to nature for guidance and started to daydream. Within minutes, two hummingbirds followed by two wild bunnies appeared. I watched and observed. All were playing and zipping in and around the bushes and trees and vying for the feeder. Hopping, darting and exploring. And I said to myself, “Oh my! That’s it!” I am a sensitive creature and quick to notice as I follow the process of my counseling clients. I’m intrigued with what isn’t said as well as what is said. I listen carefully as if I have two large rabbit ears twitching and sniffing the winds and I believe in their pain and stories that too often haven’t been. I notice the tone of my clients as they walk, smile, laugh or shed tears. I hold open space or circle it down to keep it safe. I let their voices rise or whisper. Together, if need be, we ‘die’ and explore the depths of pain, abuse, worries, and fears. I feel images and see feelings and share what has risen. We create a bond of sacred space where authenticity and trust can truly grow. Sometimes we use art or music and let the spirit of colors and shapes and sounds speak what words can’t. Other times I’m reminded that questions don’t always have immediate answers; however, we wait together and explore to see what is your deepest soul’s truth. This one is for those who don’t have emotional support.
This one is for those who feel completely alone. Who don’t have someone cheering you on, supporting every word, holding your hand, listening to your thoughts and dreams. This is for the one who feels lost in a sea of everything. Whose sensitivity is unheard, unseen and not believed. This is for the one who feels defeated because they’ve been ignored, blamed, and shamed. This one is for those who watch and listen and give but are rarely received. I believe, I believe, I believe -- You are worthy. You are loved. You are seen. If I say to you, “how wrong you are in everything you do” sadly you’ll start to believe it.
If in turn, I repeat with sincerity you are creative, intelligent, beautiful, kind, diverse and real – my hope is you’ll start to believe it. And with this fuel of self-acceptance you’ll translate the former assaults into gardens of seeing others who need to hear, “You are creative, intelligent, beautiful, kind, diverse and real.” My hope grows fuller for this to be repeated as vast as the sun and moon stretches over this very earth until we all believe it. |