“Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.” ~ Fred Rogers
“Traumatized people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, they often become expert at ignoring their gut feelings and in numbing awareness of what is played out inside. They learn to hide from their selves.” ~ Bessel A. van der Kolk
“After a traumatic experience, the human system of self-preservation seems to go onto permanent alert, as if the danger might return at any moment.” ~ Judith Lewis Herman
Lately the drafty political video commentary has taken on a slightly different tone, perspective, whatever. Numerous times I have found myself tranquilized by what has turned from perky smartness about current events into an Om-like drone. It’s like Spirit is saying like dude chill, that is all one level of being, there are others. My having come to this revelation suggests that political video commentary can be a gateway to Spirit. If you look at it over a span of linear time you’d be surprised just how many of those gateways there are. They could pop up almost anywhere. Trust me, the more the better. Soooo, no, I don’t claim wisdom on a Monday morning, in fact, I am tempted to make a third cup of coffee, though I ain’t so sure that would be smart, but the thing of it is is that I’ve gotta find some way to amp myself up to dive into the heavy vibes of the workaday world on a Monday morning in late August, and even now, even this early, there are subtle signs, whispers really, revealing the ghosts of Autumn’s tendrils, reaching back in time to call us gently forth, as a hope becomes a certainty who’s time has come. Giggling here – that sentence was a tickle to write! Kind of a Dow Mossman feel to it, though you may asked just who in the dickens Dow Mossman is. Now, I’m going out to look at the Sun rising behind the Sacred Mountain. Bisy backson.
That was one long day yesterday. This morning the lingering body tension is seriously annoying. I had a panic attack on Friday and managed it quite successfully. Management simply delays the full effects until time to let loose arrives. Such a skill is useful, but the piper must be paid. So yesterday was a chore in keeping a rational filter for the chaotic vibes in the aftermath. I accomplished that, for the most part. Yet my body still wants to follow my droopy head right on through to curling up for a good snooze. Nope, not today. Laundry day, don’tcha know. I’m not sure I need much more than that right now.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.