i start to make more sense when you realize I’m doing the same thing as Chelsea.
i start to make more sense when you realize I’m doing the same thing as Chelsea.
I love the way she speaks. She’s truly a scholar of her own life and so inspiring to me. She makes it easier for us to be understood.
Because? She went there. To the doors in her mind. And she asked herself the hard questions and wrote about the answers. She’s bravely take us all there.
And I’m grateful for role models like her to help me see myself, going there too for my own answers to write and share.
Spotting trauma has not really been that hard. I’ve always known I took a hit. That something changed for me. And that my mind and words were not like other kids. My words seemed to cut, whether I wanted to cut or not, away at things in people’s minds. My words seemed to be like a light and a scalpel that would just light up someone trauma, and I would show them and then cut and splice the nural pathway and sauder it to form a better connection and leave the person calm and a bit healed in some way.
Maybe I died the day Mama left? And maybe it’s God in here? Peek a booing through this body given up for a higher good, as of to say hello? I see you? I’m in this woman here, she died long ago, but I live in her. This body’s life has been a progression of surrenders to the divine? As I’ve been called deeper and deeper into ministry.
Mama Jean had surgery yesterday. While she? Was under the knife? I was at a crystal shop. Just grounding my energies and following some really good advice to go there from my eldest daughter, who knows me well. The place I went to is in Marysville. The link is below. The woman who owns this place is an amazing soul. And when I am stressed and facing the possibility of facing the possibility of death? I go to work I guess? Helping folks. And God just send me to place like this and then I run into a soul who’s having a ptsd moment.
Trauma is all around. And when you have experienced trauma? Yourself? You are very well aware, whether you are conscious of it or not, when someone’s lit and crying for help.
And that happened yesterday in that shop. God is everywhere. When you are aware of your own gifts and allow God to use them.
These two young woman came into the shop. I was getting ready to leave. I’d only been there a minute and was getting antsy. I do get impatient. Even if God uses me. And if I am introspective? I really think it more like anxious. Like an animal before a storm. It’s like my instincts kind of know, I’m not there for the crystals. I’m there for the demons. Which is kind of a scary idea for some? But not Jesus? Who went to the cemetery to help a guy calm down all lit up in his demons? Thoughts.
And these too woman were covered in them, like fleas. And in so much pain. And she began to talk. Not making much sense at first to anyone but me? I just listened as she was barfing, crying, wrenching, feeling so bad and not knowing why? And everyone else was trying to put makeup on her booboos and think they would go away? But not me. I could see beyond her words. I knew her cry? I’d cried like that before. Hating myself. It brought up all my Mama pain notes. And I just took her to the door of her trauma. With my Mama trauma. I held her hand, giving her comfort in a public place about as I walked and introduced her to her own thoughts and heart.
And we got to the root of it. With love. She gushed to me. I sorted with her and tagged each one. Kisses it lovingly with words of acceptance. It’s wasn’t easy to do. Because her friend was lit too. And very sensitive. But by the time I was through they both knew something had changed for them both. It’s like, “oh? Your alarm systems on babe? Ok. Let’s just get it out, yes, I know. You’re off course with yourself. I’ll walk you back. We can meet the demons then. After we just open this door into you. I am you honey. It’s ok. I won’t let you down. Hold my hand for a minute here. While I walk you through.”
When you are lost in yesterday’s thoughts. And we all do it. Don’t even try to lie? Affirmations are like paint on a rusty price of metal, if you don’t tend to your demons, call them like puppies all rowdy, and feed them people? You think? “Feed them?”, “Why ever would I feed a demon?”,”denomination are bad aren’t they?”
Well? That one of the things that changed for me when Mama left me and her demons that fateful day? I was introduced to them all. And I’ve had to get to know them for years and pay attention to them like yapping dogs directing me back to Mama? Yeah. Sounds crazy, but when I’m done explaining it? You’ll change you mind about that demon? Crazy is her name in my case? Yeah. She’s a demon all right. Crazy is as crazy does is her motto. Albert Einstein was once beloved crazy? Ahead of his time. They call that and forerunner. He didn’t have a very stupendous life? All of his siblings disabled? Yet he got past the labels?
Hero’s are crazy at some point? Dashing into a fire and saving a child? Crazy. Right? Well, Crazy taught me a lot. She’s pretty cool if you ask me? I have actually walked in hot coals and burned my feet? As a child? And I live to tell the story. And watch people cringe? As I even tell it. Walking on hot coals from last nights bonfire. I learned something at seven? About hot coals. I used that lesson to teach my own children about hot things early so they could avoid my lesson.
When life seems to not run on a time line? And swirls all around you? When you realize that life in a swirl and that we live on a ball. You simplest realize life is a raveling and an unraveling all at once. And that visiting the graves of old memories is just paying respects to the lesson. But we can’t visit the grave, unless there is a death to the memories and the demons we faced for those hard lessons that won you so much meat to feed on and share.
I’ve been tried by fire. My demons get fed daily. As I pull fleas of thoughts off folks that can’t see for the weeds? What the root is? I listens first, allow my demons to feed, and then I speak and feed theirs and quiet the noise of alarmed and upset starving demons. Warning. Move. Leave. Go. Stop. Get up. Change. Do it for yourself there is a reason behind the demons. Fear is not of God. Demons are just Hungry Angels we’ve been starving and not listening to.
Because fear is a body response. Fear is what we call excitement too. Instinct kick in when we need to do, something. Fear comes when we deny ourselves what our body knows we need. This woman’s angels were starving. She needed first, unconditional l love. Acceptance that she herself was ok, but that her body was needing some love. Stuck like a robot in a corner all alarms on full alert for love and someone to clean of the fleas. Calm the demon dogs that were just very hangry angels. And I had the goods baby.
When an angel realizes, oh, we made it to the destination for a feeding? Oh yeah! Like Neo. I picked up the phone. She cried and I told her that crying is the bodies response to toxins. That she was ok. Just purging. I told her that she was just not in position. In her mind. She need to make a move and be ok with that move. All I did was take her mumblings and spoke them back to her in clear sentences she would remember later. Alone.
As I reminded her of all her inner child has been though. As I pointed to the God within her that cares about her. As I took her own Mama off the shelf and showed her that her Mama has not been given what she desired to have, and helped her realize her own Mama was not given what she desired. But that she would not and is not her Mama. And that her Mama was just fine and had done her best with what she had been given. And told her that she herself had been given enough to make more for herself by doing her inner child and Mother work.
I shared with her my technic of self comforting. Rocking and holding yourself. Allowing the inner child who is wounded by thoughts that don’t align with her inner truth of value and worth? We all make mistakes. Crying is good. But no need to stay there when everyone’s got an on board Mama inside. I told her to wrap her arms around herself. And rock when your upset. Go and be alone. Go within to your inner child who’s the one crying. Hug yourself and rock. Allow her to speak. Cry for Mama. Cry about whatever. Allow her to just say what she longs to say. I hate you. Say it. Whatever she wants and needs to say will come up. Just allow it. Like I have here on this blog.
Then. Sob. Allow her to just get real and raw. Hold her. Keep those arms around yourself it will feel weird? Yes. At first. But don’t back down. Rub your arms. And head. Stroke your hair. And then. It’s will happen. Like clockwork. Just tell the critics to shhhh. Allow your child to go there where the hurt is and tell you about it. Tell the mind to just be ok. We are not going to stay here anymore. And don’t run for her or him, they need you. You are all you have. I learned that real early Guys.
And then. She will come up. Who? Your inner Mama will begin to speak. But only if you allow the child full right to speak freely. Mama ain’t messing with lies and excuses. It’s might take a minute or an hour. It depends on how long you’ve ignored that inner child? She’s not gonna just cough up her guts to someone who’s in a hurry. Trust and believe that. And Mama ain’t gonna come up if little inner child won’t either. That’s how folks get stuck. Not listening to the internal system dialogue.
Soon after your inner child really sees that you see and value them. Which is yourself. Then Mama will bring words to sooth you. She knows what you need batter than anyone. And if you can’t listen to your own heart about it. Why would anyone else want to listen? Right?
Jesus basically said, children are to be seen and heard. So we got that one backwards for sure? So the inner child is to be allowed to speak freely. And to be paid attention too and not poo poo’d away? Children are adults in training and need to be respected if we even want a fighting chance? Children are the forming future. What do we say when we can’t even realize that children are way more than we give them credit for?
Are we not able to even see? Our disrespect for children yet? How many Adoptees on the planet? And this is as good as we can do? Come on. We all need to be listening to the children? Children are wide open channels. No conditions yet? What conditions were you taught? What conditions hold you back? Past conditioning does get in our way. But all is not lost if we tear it down and use the trash to build new?
Neural pathways can be changed people. Little tweaks here and there of truth, can make the difference for us all. It’s took me years to get here and able to allow my inner child a platform at last to speak. But it doesn’t have to stay that way if we just begin today. If you do your inner child work? And self comfort? We all change.
That I have been looking at. When she talks about shutting down. I want to just say. It’s a response to trauma and must be accepted as such. The body is made to shut down. It’s an organic machine, made from dirt, and is 3D in nature.
People act so ashamed for shutting down? The only shame I would entertain is the shame we have not realized and adapted to a common response such as this. And that I don’t see therapist going there. To the shit down. To the root. It’s like they stare like a deer caught in my head lights and just open their mouth and gape at a living breathing person, using the tools they learned and are certified to instruct me to use. And being shut down by my story of turning it all back on.
That’s what therapy is for right? And yet they did not guide me? They told me the words and actions. But I had to figure out how those words and actions were supposed to be used. Kind of like figuring out how and what a screwdriver is for as a child?
So. I took to this blog to hammer or screw it out. What is this? Would if I add that? More of this!! Less of that now. And it seemed to work. On me. But I am not satisfied with just me. That’s the thing. I want everyone to have what I am getting for using all that I learned.
If the mind is shown the way is nature and yet different. Which means changing will feel uncomfortable at first. Fear not. New shoes feel tight and we wear them in. Change is like anything new. Stiff, fresh smelling, and yet moldable with time and use.
I’m walking my Mama in her mind to a field now. Ripe for her harvest. The saying goes, “If you can see it. You can have it”. Mama kept her nose to her own grind stone. Never considered a rewrite. But I did? Or a redue. Just a ball and chain tied to her heart that held her in place so long she thought it was her fate. Fate has her own ideas. I think Fate’s kind of cool like that. Once you get to know fate she’s real cool.
Fate rewrites the rules and make up new ones. And well Mama is quite compliant. A rule follower as she was instructed too. And yet instructions can be out of date and misleading at time depending on who’s reading and writing them. And I don’t know why Papa Gerald keeps coming to my mind? Maybe he instructed her and it hurt her? And maybe God wants Mama to get over that and know that Mamas own Daddy made mistakes too, with her. And I do believe Papa Gerald would want to make that right if he could. If God would grant him access to speak?
And what do I know? I just let the energies flow. Because of my separation from Mama I just blew out the system and was online with all my systems present and lights flashing. It made me aware of everything I could take in. No filter except conditioning that has Fallen away due to being silly and ignorant of truth.
We are taught to edit ourselves. And I’m just done editing so that we can stand on a level playing field. Why is my writing any worse than anyone else or better? I write how I think and feel, all around the issues. Many angles I look at and consider. About how me and Mama got this way? And there are quite a few people involved and how to we all get out of this pattern that seems to go on forever. Rejections loop. Relinquishment loop. Denials loops. Go round and round until someone who’s bold? Disrupts the flow. Disrupt it long enough? It will stop and start and soon, do it enough? It stops.
Once the pattern has been identified. Tagged and looked at. Which is the most earth shaking part of the process. The wake up call that the story is going into a new book series. Our rough draft has given us a lot to work with. Lots of feelings and meat to draw from to serve. After disruption though. A new story must begin or you fall back into the old ditch if thinking? I’ve been hitting on Mamas mind a while now. Calling to activate her natural love for me. To remind her I am here and she’s not along.
It’s like pulling my big red Chevy up and putting a chain on Mamas car that been rocking back and forth for a minute or two? And pulling her out. Except it’s her mind. The mud was the old story line everyone in the family was stuck rehearsing all day long and wonder why it won’t change? We all needed new lines to help Mama get out of the mud. Support crew to help her with a natural addiction to deny. No one fault. There is no need. It’s just time to get Mama out. Give her the fresh meat. So she can live the life she so desperately wants with me. Not without me.
My sisters. Be supportive of Mama and give what you want to get. To not be supportive of this obviously very traumatic event that happened and the return of a child Mama gave away is important. How we all act is what our legacy is. Let’s choose again. Who we will now be to each other. There is only one direction, yet many ways to get there. Kicking and screaming yesterdays new!
Joyously realizing that what we give we get.
I give all.
Cuz I want it all. I have taken a hit for Mama.
And lived to return. Love still in my heart no matter what anyone told her.
Everyone was wrong. I came home and remembered my roots.
You know you came from it and some day you’ll return to it. Does mean death if your still alive. We all are bags of dirt and water. Lol.
These are songs that remind me of Mama from my point of view. Does make me want to put 10% down on this white picket house on this dirt. And if that raises feelings about my Daddy? Well so be it. I do feel he agreed. I’m owning it.
If all my Mama have known is grief and loss. It’s loss and grief were the energies attached to us. And if we did not let go of each other? Which we did not. It was plain to see I had channeled Mamas vibes at my home in Willows. After visiting hers and feeling them both. I could see we’ve been linked. Unconsciously like most people who are kept except we were not together. Just connected in spirit.
And if grief and loss were the only energies that we held onto anyway? What do we do when we let go? What do we hold onto then? That’s what I am making visible to my own Mama. We have options. Once we let go of grieving a loss we no long must greave? The sky is the limit. God is our copilot. And no one just gets to Walmart by thinking about Walmart here? Ya got to get up and go.
Mama has only know pain about me. And she was fine with pain. Yep. She’s been taking it for years like me? If I’m committed? So is she. That’s how it works when you obey Mama. And the Belinda Walmart of the future scared her. She’s was like? What if she don’t like me? What about those things I did back then? Well? We went there and I called it all up and just showed her. Then tore it up and burned it with my love. Like, ” yeah? Oh that? Old thing? Your right Mama, let’s talk about that. And then burn it! Want too?” And she said yes.
I want a big bonfire. I’m cold in here without you. Our Mama is the hermit. Plain as day to see when you try to drive to her place. Private due to trauma and triggers. Why in the hell would anyone doubt me? Mama’s trust has been torn. But not in me. No. She’s calling this doctor for a house call. Three times. Ask her if she prayed and what she prayed. Go on ask her.
Freaked her the hell out!! And the words I said freaked her out more! I wish she would shut up and listen was one of those prayers! And I did. And she sat down. Blown away at the connection.
Do my sisters pour over their bibles like Mama? Like me? They should if they even want to understand it. Why would she even try to explain? She needed me to do the translations. I could say boo any old way and she would understand me. She’s my mommy! Duh?
People be tripping round here Mama? Oh but I wanted them to be tripped. And get low and grounded. And now before you. Yes. I did. Recent tastes sweetest when you share it with your Mother. At the table. Feasting because we are able. While folks scratch their head and look disabled. That how we like it at God’s table spread in front of enemies that could even consider I’d fail my own Mama?
The truth is a foundation. That she and I shared with grief. Now grief is no longer needed and we share it with grace. Grief taught us a lesson about love and pretending. At the end of the day. The truth always bleeds through what ya painted over a perfectly good picture of a mother and daughter finding their ways back to each other. After adoption stepped out of the way and bowed to the truth.