Recovery from emotional pain

It doesn’t have to hurt!

brokenheart

Often overlooked is a hidden and mysterious emptiness behind emotional pain. Out of gratitude, I am featuring Dr. Jonice Webb’s program for healing–something you can do on your own at your own pace. During the past few years, her book, Running On Empty, has helped break down walls for hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Perhaps you will become the next to find your personal healing. She is starting a new course on Thursday, October 6. There is still time to sign up. She has several introductory videos that can help you determine if this is right for you. (Tap on the Welcome below to access her website.)

Welcome

Gracefully weathering the tides of change

Graceful
ocean

Fact checking: real, or not?

With so many sources of information available these days, how do we determine what we allow into our lives? Who is to say what is real? Reality is a different experience for each of us. When do we walk on by, allowing tidal forces to wash and renew?

Despite the voices proclaiming fear and ruin, cities are reinventing themselves. Industrial towns like Pittsburgh and Detroit are reawakening and allowing the tides of natural decay to take their course, choosing to learn how to stay in the present, learning to live in individual realities. Churches are re-centering: the third largest denomination in the United States (per the 2010 Census) is NON-denominational. They seem to be focusing on helping us deal with our individual realities. (You can tap on the link for details.)

Enlightenment: real, or not? Nearly every self-help source, religion, healer, and wizened person recommends the practice of meditation. This is a world-wide trend, friends. It is finding our higher selves, becoming part of something much bigger: enlightenment. And it is growing. We are allowing it because “it” works.  “It” weathers all tides.

Meditation, like our very existence, can put us into a tailspin if we try to make sense of it. Some people know it as understanding grace. If we can just stop and learn how to live from a foundation of mediation (learning how to be), the puzzle of life solves itself. We, ourselves, can’t do it. Our energy, our peace, our meaning, flows from a source we can’t define. When we can accept our “nothing-ness” alongside our “something-ness” we connect with ourselves, with creation, with our Creator–even if we have no concept of what that means. We just accept.

Allowing the tides…

I love the metaphor of Jesus words (Matthew 11:28-30 NIV):

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

My father rode the changing tide of farming. By the time he retired, he was harvesting with huge machines that did all the work he remembered once doing by hand. Fortunately, he had taken time to tell me stories of farming with horses: how he and his father and brothers took care to choose compatible teams, how one horse became a leader and would nip encouragement to the other when it wasn’t pulling its own share, and how, if a horse strained to go ahead, the result could become painful and destructive.

Meditation allows us to settle into our yoke and harness for the day. If we strain beyond, our futile efforts become painful. If we ignore the gentle tug of the reins, we antagonize our driver and our team.  Jesus told his disciples to go into privacy and close the door to pray. He said words were unnecessary. When we stop and open ourselves to possibility– when we cease trying to be, we learn to be as we were intended.

As always, your views, experiences an comments are always welcome and encouraged!

Mira

 

 

 

 

 

My Ghost Doesn’t Live in a Ghost Town

via Daily Prompt: Ghost

1200px-Ghost_town_Frisco_in_Utah

I could hardly believe that the WordPress prompt for today was “ghost”. You see, ghost is MY word.

The word, ghost, and I have a past relationship. This word, ghost, is ME. As a little girl, I remember: my dad is not far away, sitting in the brightly-lit living room of our matchbox-size house, right outside their bedroom. I am in their bedroom with my mother. It is dark. I see a figure. It is not my mother. It is not me. It is large. It is rather translucent, almost fog-like.  It does not appear to be trying to approach or frighten me, but I scream anyway. I do not know this being. I run out of the room to my father who catches and holds me. My mother laughs and tells me that I am silly. This is THE memory that has haunted me throughout my entire life.   Continue reading “My Ghost Doesn’t Live in a Ghost Town”