Seeing Self through the Lens of Fear

And what might happen if we tried something new

I have one of those friends I’ve never met.  His name is Harry.  I love Harry because he can see me, because he shares his wisdom w/ a dash of humor that is sometimes peppery.  He makes me laugh *just* when I need it.

His response to this post On Being All Grow’d up and Afraid of the dark  was ‘self-compassion’.  He’s absolutely right.

But we have this thing, this stupid human trick, that we’ve relied upon for a long, long time. We have learned how to be afraid, we teach others to be afraid–even when we’re sharing things that sound sorta wise–and it’s our go-to tool.

Two summers ago, I had an interesting exchange with an amazing young lady I adore.  I may have actually mentioned this before but it’s connected so I’m bringing up and my love for trolls (oh, bloody hell, not those!) up again.  She sent me a note on the Place of Face and shared that she was afraid.  An energy or entity kept appearing to her and it made her afraid.   The exchange went like this:

From Miss Awesomeness:  I think this and my question to you about anger/violence also is tied to an experience that i had this summer with a “dark” or malicious entity that was obviously wanting something from me. I attracted it–for sure–by dabbling in some voodoo stuff. but it brings up this near-paralyzing fear in me every so often. it’s feels so uncontrollable, and i get thrown off. i don’t know if it’s all in my head or if there’s something i need to do to protect myself. i feel unable to tap into my intuitive wisdom because of the fear. and it leaves me feeling isolated/grieving/self-hateful/at a loss of where to move. Do you have any advice for me? I’m sorry if I’m just sort of spurting out all of my thoughts/emotions!

From Yours Truly:  don’t be afraid of this other energy. Drop ‘malignant’, ‘dark’, and ‘protection’ etc from the vocabulary. If it shows up, engage with it. Ask who it is, ask why it is appearing/what it is seeking, ask if it is connected to another human energy (alive or deceased), ask these questions and, then, listen/feel the responses. And, before you engage it, get clear with yourself about why you have the response you do to it–is it ‘ugly’? Does it trigger a smell, other physical response or memory, is it a reflection of an aspect of yourself or abuser…

Miss Awesomeness:  Last night i conversed a bit with an energy. Got the response that it was there to give me something which will help me know/be myself, when I am ready. I asked myself why i was intimidated by it and felt that it was because it reminded me of my incredible power.

I’ve had dozens of similar conversations in the 18 months since the above conversation.  Dozens.  With law enforcement personnel, analysts, and therapists; yoga instructors, artists and coaches; spiritual seekers and such.   Each afraid of this thing. And we’ve trained ourselves into a certain way of thinking (not my words. Find more about them and the ballerina who says them here) and it becomes our reality, it’s all we know; the lens through which we agree with ourselves to measure the world around us.  Some therapists associate physical, mental and emotional responses to stimuli with trauma–theirs or another’s–and are afraid they’ll relive the experience now as they did then.  This dancer?  Ballet or the fear of life without it.  Footballer?  Sports or life without it.  Bureaucrat?  Um…never mind.    The point is that we “get used to” that lens, that fear, that thing we assume is outside of us or has been done unto us.

In We Don’t Need no Steenking Trolls I shared the story about a dude and his troll.   The video is longish so I’ll summarize here:  I went to visit a client in DC.  He lived in an amazing apartment across the street from the National Cathedral and I was duly impressed by what was his front yard (total aside: if you’ve not been to the Cathedral, the next time you’re in DC, you want to go).  When I asked said dude why I was there, he said something along the lines of wanting me to get rid of his troll.  Imagine, if you will, someone telling you in all honesty and earnestness that they have their own personal troll.  I’m pretty sure I gave the dude the eyebrow and a uh-huh before continuing.   The Dude shared that this energetic thing, this entity, was not just one to be satisfied with making regular appearances.  It would do things like pull his pants leg for attention.  He could describe this troll in such detail he could artistically recreate it.  He showed me a drawing the resembled the combination of a triceratops, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and some thing else that I can’t remember or describe.   One of the first things out of my mouth was, “Have you talked to it?”

His response was a resounding no.  Mine?  Why?  Him:  Because it’s fucking ugly.  Me:  “Well, that sort of limits any kind of communication when we expect something to appear in a pleasing manner so that we’ll pay attention to it.”     I opened up the living room curtains and gave him either his binoculars or a telescope (can’t remember which he had handy) and said, “Take a look at each of the spires around that Cathedral.  What do you see?”

“Gargoyles.”

“What do Gargoyles dooooo?”

“Gargoyles are protectors.”

“Are gargoyles pretty?”

“Well, no.”

Insert the upward reaching right eyebrow here.

“So you are ignoring this very persistent energy that is trying to communicate with you because it’s not pleasing to your eye.  Something obviously has something to tell you and you refuse to say, Yo, what’s up.  If it were a child, even sort of an ugly one, you would respond. If it were an ugly dog, you’d say, “Aaawwwww…aren’t you soo cuuuute (if you click through to the video you’ll hear the Southern accent that makes this sound just so, well, appropriate)  Why are you bothering me?”  But because this energy isn’t shiny, sparkly, fairy-like or shitting glitter, you’re ignoring it.”

“I’m not here to get rid of you troll.  I’m here to show you how to engage with something that may or may not be of your own creation, may or may not be an aspect of yourself, that you can’t see past because it’s kinda ugly to you.”

Lately the ‘trolls’ people have been presenting me with energetic representations of themselves or aspects of themselves that they cannot see as such.  The see or sense a solidness that frightens them.  Their only relation to themselves is through that lens of fear–fear of trauma, fear of loss, fear of the unknown.

One of the things I find most interesting about this development is with each person I have these interactions, the notion of ‘the shadow self’ as spiritual and psychological form is a basis they use for their own work–with clients, in their own therapy, or on their spiritual path.   I’m wondering how effective this tool is or can be if, it too, is only expected to appear pleasing to the mind, or soothing to the heart & mind, or a mere idea beyond which there can be no manifestation.    What demons are really not at all?  What if they really are us or a part of us merely seeking the attention and release we believe should come otherwise packaged? What if your shadow has shown up to be alighted and released into your vision? Into your own light?

When I say to people, “Say I see you.  I love you” to their thing, their troll or their shadow, perhaps, I’m not saying ‘don’t be afraid’.  I’m saying nothing more than in your own voice, as aloud as you can allow yourself in that not-quite-paralyzed state to say “I see you. I love you.” even if you are afraid; in spite of the fear; to spite the fear if need be.  Until you can see there is nothing to fear.

Until you can see that which in front of you in the dark is always there, even in the light.  That what is in front of you, is you.  See her, love him. Listen to what you have to say to yourself in your own voice or those voices that have been trying to reach you for eons.  In seeing and loving, that is the self compassion of which Harry speaks.  And it brings, as he so elegantly shared this afternoon, “the possibility of freedom”.

Freedom comes in amazing ways.  Simple ways like  “I see you.  I love you.”

Try it now.  Try it tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

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Rumi’s The Self We Share

The Self We Share 
 
Thirst is angry with water. Hunger bitter
with bread.
The cave wants nothing to do with the sun.
This is dumb, the self-
defeating way we’ve been.
A gold mine is
calling us into its temple. Instead, we
bend and keep picking up rocks from the
ground.
Every thing has a shine like gold,
but we should turn to the source!
The origin is what we truly are. I add a little
vinegar to the honey I give. The bite ofscolding makes ecstasy more familiar.
But
look, fish, you’re already in the ocean:
just swimming there makes you friends with
glory. What are these grudges about?
You are Benjamin.
Joseph has put a gold cup
in your grain sack and accused you of being
a thief.
Now he draws you aside and says,
“You are my brother. I am a prayer. You’re
the amen.” We move in eternal regions, yet
worry about property here.
This is the prayer of each: 
You are the source of my
life.
You separate essence from mud.
You honor my soul.
You bring rivers from the 
mountain springs.
You brighten my eyes.
The wine you offer takes me out of myself into the self we share.
Doing that is religion.

“If you want peace of mind, I suggest you resign as manager of the Universe.”

That line comes from Dan Millman’s Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior.  Here, Mama Chia is reminding Dan that really, seriously, we don’t need to do anything. Period.

It annoys us humans–particularly those w/ amazing gifts, to think that we don’t need to, or in fact, should not DO something.  I bring this up because as England burns amid other violence, there has been a repeated call among those of the proclaimed Lightworker (I’m really not quite sure what that means these days) persuasion that we must intervene, must heal the situation. In addition, there are organizations who have created for themselves the purpose of interrupting, intervening, ‘transmuting’ political systems, economic institutions, and other foundations of countries and entire regions.

This is a reminder that there are processes, systems, billions of people, mysteries, and a bigger picture involved than anyone can really grasp.  Some may have a distinct ‘sense’ of it but not hold a true understanding of: a) what is really happening, and b) how interference in those things can cause harm to others no matter the original, personal intent. It’s uncomfortable to know that these same processes, systems, people, mysteries, and other unknowns are working themselves out in their own way and maybe not to our liking. But our liking isn’t the point.  Each person involved in the aforementioned is working himself out in his own way and influencing those around him.  It is not for us to decide what’s good or unnecessary and change the ripple effect of or for others.

We quite often forget that this is about us.  Us, first.  It appears that, even for those who claim to be more ‘developed’, it is much easier to identify (subject to our own definition, of course) something or someone else in the world that ‘is wrong’ and try to ‘heal’ or ‘fix’ it rather than focus on ourselves  My request to those healers, transmitters, foundations that we truly do that and rather than intervening in things around us, we work within and help in matters rather than ‘heal’ those that don’t fit into how we think the world should/would/could  be/behave/process.  Get active in politics if you want to change political systems.  Get involved with your local police force or corrections system if you want to see that change.  Participate in the opportunities there are to feed and comfort others, create ones that don’t exist if that is your calling.  Bail someone out of jail. Mentor a child or two. Help another rebuild their home. Put compassion to work in things that you can influence.

As further food for thought, I share this from Frank DeMarco’s “I of my own knowledge” here: http://bit.ly/oaj8gR   A snippet here:

“Everybody to his own work. What is one person’s true work is another’s evasion.

Here is your dilemma, and it is the dilemma people of good will must always face. Whatever your intentions, your ability to change the way things are is going to be limited…

Life is vastly too big for anyone to comprehend…

So, if you are tempted to abandon your siege of a hencoop to march off to a pretended siege of Babylon, remember that only you are created able to do your work. And what is your work? It is to be present to your opportunities and problems, and make of them what you will. For some it is the expansion of their awareness along social lines. For others, it is the absorption of patterns. For still others it may be the dissemination of insight or learning. For others, it is the day-to-day execution of defined responsibilities. How are you going to say that any of these life’s paths is wrong? How can you know how any one is going to react with others? The short answer is that you can’t and no one can. And, since it can’t be done, obviously it can’t be the path.

Live your own life; and live it your way.”

And Be while letting others do the same.

A Taste of my own Medicine, Self-Worth & Pissin’ People Off

Every now and again, I feel the need to get a taste of my own medicine.  When I do that, I click around and find out when and where Panache Desai is going to be.  This time it was Black Mountain, North Carolina.  What’s little road trip?  Only seven hours between here and there, right?  Yup.  Something like that.  Seven hours to drive for an energetic ass-kicking.

Let me divert a bit with a little back-story. I first saw Panache about a year ago.  He ‘accidentally’ showed up on my computer screen.  Riiiiight.  You know how I feel about ‘accidents’, right?  I knew in less than an instant that I needed him like I needed air.  I drove like a bat out of hell for 14 hours to St. Petersburg, FL, to the Unity Church there to see him.  I sat. Looked around at the eclectic crowd and tried not to fidget (remember how I have to practice patience?).  When he began speaking I almost fell over.  He was using the same language, the exact same words I did while working, the language that others thought I channeled.  I was brilliantly relieved and tickled that I wasn’t alone.  Then, he started doing his thing.  He wandered around the room touching folks and when he finally got to me, I was just ‘struck’.  That’s the only way I know how to describe it except to add that in one moment, in less than a second, I just ‘knew’.  I knew everything.  I knew that what I’d begun doing a few months beforehand had little to do with healing torn rotator cuffs and a lot with changing the world.  All in a flash of light (although that doesn’t quite describe it) and presence that moved in and through me in a split second.  And, then, it was all I could do to not interrupt the still, meditative manner that others had settled into without laughing hysterically!  Guffawing, snarfing, snorting…the whole shebang.

The mystical experiences clients had been describing to me finally made sense.  Those may have made sense but the “holy shit” factor remained at the forefront of my brain all night.  The 14 hour drive back to Virginia was filled with self-conversation that went something like this: “Oh. Shit.”  “Holy CRAP!”  “HOLY crap!” “Whatthehellisthatallabout!”  “Crappity, crap, crap, crap!!”  “Damn, there’s responsibility here!” “Now what the fuck do I do with that bit of information?”   Enough that the chatter sent me straight to the computer before the bathroom (after 14 hrs on the road, no less) to send an email that said, essentially, “Holy crap.  Now what the hell do I do?”  The response, bless him, was, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Moving back on track to this summer’s trip.  Only 7 hours, not 14. And I knew what I was getting into.  Didn’t feel the ‘need’ but wanted to feel what others feel through me.  A reminder, really, of what we’re about. As far as I know, he and I are the only ones that work in this strange and usual fashion (odds are, though, that if there are two of us, there are bound to be more around the globe).  What’s a state line or two between us, I thought?  So I went.

Hauled ass (safely, of course!) through the heart of Virginia into some of North Carolina’s finest spaces.  The two-hour session on Friday evening was nice.  I was tired and it was a great way to end a day of travel.  Just a nice energetic high of the warm, fuzzy kind.   On Saturday, though, initially it wasn’t.  I found myself annoyed.  Annoyed that I was listening to myself. Really annoyed.  Remember, we really do speak the same language–damn near word for word.  It was only toward the end of the day that the smack upside the head occurred.  The universal, “Yeah.  You.  You big dummy.  You ought to listen to yourself!”

A week or so before I made the run to NC, I met with a really awesome woman from Northern Virginia.  During the course of our time together I looked at her and said, “Quit being a pussy.”  (Yes, I really did. I don’t have to make any of this up, kids. These aren’t therapy sessions.  And, seriously, wouldn’t you love to hear your therapist say that?).  After listening to what Panache had to say toward the end of Saturday, I realized I’d been speaking to myself as well. I’d been settling for being a pussy.  Preaching on one hand while my other hand chose to hold me back.   Although in some respects I have behaved fearlessly, in one key aspect I had chosen not to.

Because I am ridiculously  human, I’d held onto a couple of key beliefs about myself that others had sold me on.  The primary of those (the one addressed now) was that I didn’t have value. Grounded in years of ‘stuff’, I’d held onto that notion.  And, subsequently, have lived recently as if I was of no value, as if my needs and desires, and, yes, my Gift, had no value.  I’d dealt with it at one relational level but not at another.  Silly girl.  Don’t know what I was thinking.  Actually, that’s not quite true.  What I was thinking was, “Oh.  I can’t do that. They won’t like me/come to me/value me/want me (think Sally Field) if I do …”.  In this case, ‘it’ was if I charge for my services what I need to have my own needs met.  As if it were perfectly okay for me to provide what I do for others and martyr myself in the process.

It is no longer okay for me to suffer.  It’s no longer okay for me to choose between putting gas in the car and going to the dentist. It’s no longer okay for me to be afraid of what others think of my need to take care of myself.  It is not okay for me to be afraid of every noise my car makes.  It is perfectly okay for me to want underwear that fits.  So, I’ve raised my rates.  I’ve raised them to help support both me and those who can’t afford me at any rate.  I do a lot of work for no fee at all and when I do, it’s done with love.  I choose to do that for those in need who have limited or no income because I fully believe what I call the Gift is of all of us and for all of us.   I have previously set myself up and created limitations that needn’t exist because I was afraid.  No mas.   I have desires to work with veterans groups, pay for advertising, develop a retreat center, and live on my own again.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.

There are those who will say, “Oh, there she goes. Just like all these other healer-types.  All about the money.”  Others have already come right out and said, “You can’t do that!  You can’t charge so much for something that people don’t understand!” “You can’t expect people to pay you for miracles.”   You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.  And, we all know how I feel about that.  So be it. That’s their problem, not mine.  It is up to others to decide what the value of the Gift is for them and to find the courage to say things like, “I really can’t afford more than the $60 I used pay you.”   Those who don’t pay me do that every day and, then, pay with loving kindness, chocolate cake, garden goodies, and the willingness to be open to themselves & others.

A good part of what I teach is grounded in deciding (see above). Deciding how we want to feel.  How we want to experience life.  I’ve finally decided that I want to live freely, without self-imposed limitations.  I’ve got plans and am creating a way to make them happen. I am worthy.

Spiritual Naivety?

There are those who think of me as ‘merely’ naive when it comes to things of spirit.  Here, I ask they consider their own limitation of expression that appears bound by others’ ideas & ideals. The string of logic posed by quite a few is that I’ve not studied spiritualism, metaphysics, any aspect of any religion, and not living/speaking/healing/BE-ing within the bounds of someone else’s playbook.   I’ve not sought out sages or saddhus, not read from mystics and mages, not worshiped at or made an altar,  I’ve not done enough things or read enough of stuff  to know of what I speak and certainly not enough to know Truth–neither my own nor that that is Universal.

So what if I get my inspiration from Dean Koontz as much as I do Rumi?  So what that I don’t have Lama so-and-sos books as reference guides?  So what that I picked up all those books you have on your shelves, read a few pages or chapters and said, “Nope. That’s not it.” So what that I can say I don’t know?  I don’t care to know.  I have no need or desire to understand.   I don’t need to read someone else version of how my life should/might/could be.   So what that I can say I Know more than has ever been forgotten of that for which there are no words to be written in a book?  So what that I don’t assign any more significance to a crystal than I do the chair that supports my ass, the friends that feed my hunger, or the wind that tousles my hair?

So what that I don’t give a crap about past lives, Akashic records, 2012, 11/11/11 or future-&-fortune telling?  So what that I’m not afraid of and cannot explain how or why I go formless; how or why I can feel more heartbeats than my own; how or why my vibrations intensify sometimes so that furniture and the air move around me? I just not afraid and just don’t care.

Why does it bother anyone that I can say with certainty that I am enlightened?  Why? Why does it bother you so that I don’t couch any of this in terms of ‘spiritual’ but consider it merely living.  Not a separate part of me or anyone/thing in the Universe?

With some frequency, I say to as many people as I can, “Forget what you think you know.”  That bugs a lot of folks.  Annoys, confuses, angers and frightens.  There is always one or a few someones who believe they know everything. Can recite left, right, upside down and backwards biblical & kabbahlistic texts, A Course in Miracles, Eckhart Tolle’s latest; carry around with them photos of their gurus, pocket angel cards, and other accoutrement; wear their crystals and white; repeat “peace and light”, and still live in a state of unawareness.  Unaware, unopen to change or other avenues of experience and expression.

Generally speaking, when I ask folks to forget what they think they know, I’m not trying to challenge the ideas they hold (although, sometimes, for grins & giggles that is my entire point).  We connect to and engage with those things that resonate with us, interest us and excite us.  I get that. I want, though, to push people past their limitations.  I want to push people past the ideas & attitudes of others that they hold so dear, onto so tightly that they cannot see their own.  There are a lot of people saying the same thing and slightly different versions of the same thing for a reason. I don’t know what it is and don’t care to.  What I do know and care about is people remaining comfortable and complacent in the ‘same thing’ in the same manner we, as humans, have done over the course of our existence.  The ‘same thing’ that leads to dogma, doctrination, discrimination of the negative sort without the discrimination of the discerning sort.

I have the unique ability to see in ways others cannot. Or, more pointedly, in ways others choose not to.  I can see through the veils, the stories, the fears, the mirrors, the cloaks, the stuff-n-stuff that holds people back from their potential. I see the essence.  It has nothing to do with form, fashion, or finessing of words. When I can see it clearly and they cannot fathom because of those limitations, I, quite frankly, get annoyed.  Because of this stuff is so ridiculously simple. Because if you can’t actually practice it, why do you preach it, and hold onto it–that thing–so hard that ?

Let go. Open yourself up. Entirely.  It’s not enough to say, “I’ve got an open heart” when the rest of you is shut down and shut out of the simplicity of the mystery of the Universe.  You don’t need to ‘figure it out’.  There is nothing that needs fixing. Nothing that needs to be rescued or saved.  Sure, tools are good.  As are crutches.  However, when you allow your tool to become the crutch for too long, you forget how to walk on your own!

Breathe. Be. Know.  Know thyself and be true.  And live fully, openly.

So how does this healing stuff work, exactly?

A woman who called the other day to see about scheduling an appointment asked that question.   She’s feeling like one hot mess and wanted to know if I could help.   She’d heard about me through local gossip (free marketing, anyone?) and wanted to know how this “stuff” works, “exactly”.

I dunno exactly.  Here’s what I do know.

There is nothing wrong with you.

You may feel all sorts of things.  You may feel afraid, anxious, awkward, addicted, alone, angry, compulsive, impulsive, enraged, exhausted, depressed, downtrodden, delusional, disorganized, dissociated, lonely, spent, sleep-drived, sad, stuck, annoyed, paranoid, grief-stricken, spent, out-of-whack, wonky, weird, panic-stricken, pissed off, pissed upon, distressed, disturbed, dis-ordered. disconnected, discombobulated, dis-eased, uneasy, uninterested in everything and everyone around you, moody, mad, masochistic, irritated, irrational, inattentive, hypervigilant, hyperactive, startled, sad, guilty, traumatized, spaced-out, stunted, stunned, stressed, suicidal, rage-filled, and, frankly, just generally fucked up.  You’re dealing with some serious shit. It’s your crap and yours alone to try to figure out.

But these things, these feelings are not you.  They are of you, sure.  They are sometimes of others (figure that one out, eh?).   You are dealing with them (or notsomuch as is often case) in the best way you know how.  You feel these things. They suck.  They make you feel like you suck.  However, you are not them.  There is nothing wrong with you. And you do not suck.

Once you know that, once you decide that, you will recognize all the tools you need to heal, to release these feelings that are holding you back, are within you.  It’s simple really.  Not necessarily easy. But simple.  I say that it is simple but not necessarily easy for a couple reasons.  First, frankly, we get used to these feelings.  As uncomfortable as they may be, they often become our comfort zone.  They  help shape our day, our relationships, our responses to life-stuff.  We get used to them and like having at least one reliable thing in the midst of the fuckedupedness.  Others get used to them.  And, despite all the blah-blah about change being good, life being change, a lot of folks don’t know how to and don’t want to.  Change, that is.   Again, though, there is nothing inherently wrong with that.  Some people say it’s wrong, assign it the ‘wrong’ label, but really, it just is.  The second goes back a few sentences to ‘others get used to them’.

What other people think or expect of us has an impact on us that we often don’t realize.  Others might not be comfortable or understand our erratic behavior, frightening mood swings, inability to move farther than the couch, or need for the booze.  However, folks at least have a glimpse of what is going on if we say, “I have PTSD” or “I’m depressed.”  The labels connect them to a definition or label that may not entirely explain your experience but can lessen their fear and open their hearts.   It helps them define you.  They, too, become comfortable in that and become afraid of your own change because they face being in a place of fear again.

There is no need to be afraid.  You have all of the answers within you.  And, it’s time to get right with you.

Same client said, “That’s such a freakin’ cliche, Ingrid. I don’t buy that.”  Well, it may be a cliche.  It may be tired.  You may be sick of hearing it but odds are you’re hearing it for a reason.  This cliche is true.  You can’t fully do for others until you can deal with you. All of your glorious, beautiful fuckedupedness.

Client says, “What the hell do you know about this?”  Me: “Been there. Done that.”

I first tried to kill myself sometime while I was in elementary school (maybe before?). I won’t go into details about that part of my story because I don’t want to hurt others but I decided that I didn’t want to be in this world because something wasn’t right.  It wasn’t right that I was afraid all the time.  It wasn’t right that I hurt all the time.   However, as most kids do, I survived.  Sort of.  I mean, I continued to breathe.  After the attempt and through the next few years.

Then I got older and attempted again as a teenager.  And again.  And each time I survived still trying to understand why I didn’t fit in, why I was still here, why no one heard me and why no one could see what was happening.  When all those crappy feelings that I didn’t know how to deal with me caught up with me as an adult, things stepped up a notch. I worked myself into the ground, I became an ‘expert’, I worked hard, partied harder, and hit a brick wall in 2004.  I hit that brick wall with all the force of a Mack truck doing 110.  Bertha was in the mouth more than once, finger on the trigger more than once. I took medical leave from my Probation job after my own physician said, “Well, Ingrid, we call this depression” in only the way a brilliant, sarcastic mind who knows that you know what’s going on can do.

In all of this, I knew things were really, really, incredibly messed up beyond description. FUBARed beyond FUBAR. And as I tried to figure out why I was here, what the heck was going on with me, why I was ready to blow the back of my head off but didn’t really want to, I had to explain it over and over to people.  And each person said something slightly different: “You’re Depressed.”  “You’re Bi-Polar.” “You are really ill.” “You are what we call a PTSDer.  A Complex PTSDer (as if that made it all the more special).”

After two shrinks, four therapists, I finally decided I wasn’t what they thought I was.  I might have been feeling whacked out in more ways than one but I knew that each time someone else tried to pigeon-hole me as a way of understanding me, they got it wrong.

As soon as I decided I was a beautiful disaster that could fix my own-damn-self (dammit!), things changed.  Immediately.  IBS symptoms gone after I decided that caffeine, wine, and nicotine were the causes. Cut those out, cut out IBS.  Cut out the suicidal ideation because I didn’t really want to die.  Sometimes felt like it but didn’t really want to.  Left the husband that I’d talked about leaving for over a year within two weeks, moved 1700 miles to one of the most spectacular places on the planet, and have watched the beautiful disaster morph into a wondrous woman (if I do say so my own-damn-self!) who’s been given an amazing Gift.

I have been there.  Walked the darkest path, sunk into the deepest depths and thrived!! I am the most blessed of all people.  And I am grateful beyond words that I was kept here to be able to do what I do.

This “stuff” work because when you are ready, when you decide that it’s time to let go of all that  holds you back and no longer serves you, the tools come to you clearly.  I am simply one of them.  When I am with you and I breathe and connect to the Divine (however you define that) , I am a tool, a facilitator that allows what you need to release to just go.  It’s that simple.  And, yes, this part really is that easy.

When those things that no longer serve you leave; when you’re not holding on to them, you begin to experience the world and all of its challenges in a different manner.  Those emotions? You still feel them but they don’t define you.  You feel them, acknowledge them and let them go.  As you do, you grow. As you grow into the new experience of life, those things that do serve you just come to you.  In magnificent ways.    This is the healing process.  Maybe I should call it growth process instead, no?

When you’re ready, just get to me.

“I’m careful about miraculous stuff, but for a very real, straight up, down to earth gal, she shares a remarkable undefinable gift with her clients.”  Sandy C, Delaplane, VA (09/17/09)