Posts Tagged ‘praying’

You’ve Done Enough

February 2, 2018

Crying.

He said to me on the phone tonight as I was driving home from my internship.

I had called up my person to confirm our meeting for this Sunday and to discuss some things that I wanted to do and to basically tell on myself.

He made some suggestions and listened to me and gave me a different perspective than I had and then he said the aforementioned you’re done crying.

God damn that sounded good.

I would really like to be done crying.

I could use a fucking break from it.

And I don’t think I cried today, but I know I teared up a few times.

The crying could have happened but I didn’t quite go there.

I was grateful for the reprieve, truth be told.

It’s been exhausting going through this.

I had expressed how I thought my D.C. trip might be a vale of tears and I was told to have fun, to enjoy myself, to let myself have a good time, that I was allowed to.

That I don’t have to do any more fucking processing.

Or sharing.

I’m done.

I can keep to my work and keep to my recovery and do the things that I need to do for my own self care, but I don’t have to continually process this, I have been in grief for two and a half weeks.

I need a break.

And I know that grief does not have a timeline, that the expression of sorrow is not linear.

It will come.

It will go.

But.

I don’t have to court it and what I was thinking about doing may have been courting the grief.

So I won’t be doing those actions and I am forever grateful for the perspective of another and the wisdom of some one who has great clarity and can see me well for who I am and who advocates for me the best things.

I don’t always advocate the best things for myself.

But.

Man.

I am fucking trying.

I am doing the heavy lifting.

I swear.

I am doing things I never thought I could do, or even thought. that I would do a few months ago.

I don’t think I really entertained the thought of the actions that I so recently took, maybe a tiny peek at them, but most of the time no, I really did not see what happened coming.

I mean.

It certainly felt like a shock to me.

And the aftershocks have been pretty heavy.

It really shook my world and changed who I am.

I believe.

In a very deep, very meaningful way.

I am proud of myself for doing the opposite of what I wanted in the belief that by asking for what I want I would be better off.

Even if I didn’t get what I wanted.

And.

Hey.

Guess what?

I didn’t get what I wanted.

Nope, not at all.

But.

The results weren’t mine, I reckon the results of the actions I take really are never mine, they’re for God, the actions are what are important.

I took very contrary actions for myself.

I did something that I am still a little in awe of.

It was so hard.

It was scary.

It was unfathomable sadness.

And I still did it.

I also don’t know what the final outcome of it all will be.

I don’t have to know.

I just know I did for myself something different and new in hopes of lessening the pain that I was in spiritually, emotionally, hell, even physically.

I won’t say that I was going against my principles, or better nature, but I was doing something very outside my comfort zone and I think I was a bit like the proverbial boy whistling in the dark, nothing’s the matter, all’s good, I’m grand.

But I wasn’t and when it all came crashing down on me I realized how much I wasn’t good with my situation despite how much I didn’t want to change, I had to change.

Nothing changes unless something changes.

I made some change.

Good grief, did I ever.

Oh, all the things I get to keep working on.

So fucking many things.

But for now, I can say, let me rest for a moment.

Let me take a break from the crying, let me surrender that pain up and let it go, I don’t need to suffer, I don’t need to wallow, I can acknowledge that yes, I am still sad and fucking heartbroken, but I don’t have to dig around in it and dredge up more grief.

I can accept that I have done the work and I can rest for a moment.

Yes, there is no actual resting on my laurels, so to speak, but there is an acknowledgement of work done and that perhaps it is alright for me to call a time out from the emotional upheaval of the past few weeks and seek a little serenity for myself in all of it.

I feel that’s fair.

And should I need to cry again, that’s fine too.

It’s just ok for me to not do it today and acknowledge that the heavy lifting is done.

As my dear friend in Paris mentioned to me, “the worst is done.”

Sigh.

Yes.

The worst is done.

That makes me sad to write, in a resigned melancholic way, but also aware that the hardest thing I had to do has been done.

I grow from here.

I change.

I allow myself to heal.

I am gentle and kind and loving to myself and to others and I get the fuck out of my own way, to the best of my ability, one day at a time.

One moment at a time.

One breath at a time.

And everything will be alright.

I just know it.

Because.

Well.

It already is.

 

 

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And Then There Was This

January 24, 2018

January 22, 2018

To:

I am writing to strongly recommend Carmen Martines for your doctoral program. I work with Carmen at the _________________ in San Francisco where I serve as the Director and one of the Clinical Supervisors. Carmen is a masters level psychotherapy intern here, providing psychotherapy services in our non-profit community mental health center.

As a counselor here, Carmen is able to help a large number of clients to grow and heal. I can not over emphasize the valuable and unique set of experiences, drive, compassion, and intelligence that Carmen brought to her work here and is capable of offering to the world.

Carmen has overcome tremendous obstacles in order to now be in a position to increase her knowledge and skills. She has an innate drive and professionalism that I believe will be a good match for your program.

I myself am a graduate of _________, where I received a Ph.D. in East-West Psychology. I understand well the intellectual, academic, and practical aspects of the work involved and feel that Carmen has all the skills, natural abilities, and resources to excel as a doctoral student.

In short, the current and future potential of Carmen to be a gifted force in the community is undeniable. Her education in your program and subsequent contributions will surely increase that potential. Please consider her to be an exceptionally strong candidate.

If you have any questions or concerns please do not hesitate to contact me.

 

That is from my supervisor at my internship.

I found it in my file tonight in office.

I was thrilled to say the least.

I was expecting a good letter of recommendation, but this letter really hit my heart and made me realize, I am really going to do this.

REALLY.

It still fills a little strange and as I was sharing with a friend today whilst scurrying from one place to another, I already feel behind for this semester, that I am going to apply to a PhD program.

But.

Yes.

Indeed I am.

It was a nice letter to get.

It was affirming and it was just another soft layer of nice on top of a day that has been surprisingly less painful than the past week has been.

I have been in such excruciating emotional pain that I cannot even believe I made it through the week, then to add the getting a crown shoved in my mouth to the whole deal and navigating my way through my first weekend back in class, well, fuck, it’s been a tough week.

Let me also add I haven’t had a day off in I forget now how many days, but ten?

And I’m on track to work overtime this week at work.

I got a message from the mom asking me to come in early tomorrow, one of my charges is sick.

Sigh.

I said sure.

I could use the money frankly.

The unexpected out lay of $1300 for the dental procedure rather stripped me down on my reserve.

Plus.

I am getting a tattoo on Saturday.

Two pieces actually, and I’m not sure how much that’s going to be, although I have a ballpark feel for it.

So sure, I’ll come in two hours early tomorrow.

Sigh.

I feel like I can do it though as I actually got some sleep last night.

It was the first night in a week, longer? That I didn’t fall asleep crying.

There’s been a lot of nights falling asleep crying, but this last week it wasn’t just slippery tears and sadness, it was all out weeping and consternation so deep it felt like I was being torn in two.

Emotionally shredded.

I haven’t been able to write my blog for a few days, there was so much emotionally happening for me, I can’t even begin to know how I got through the week.

But it started to ease last night.

Thank you God.

I got some sleep.

I didn’t wake up crying.

Oh yeah, crying, like that’s what it was.

It was more like.

Falling on the floor and sobbing.

I went to bed weeping every night and by the time I hit my knees to do my morning prayers I was crying again.

Now.

I won’t lie.

I had therapy today, so there was crying there too, but not the deep gut wrenching, heart-sick, soul rending crying that I had been doing all week.

It was more of a processing cry.

The session went by fast.

I had so much happen this past week it still rather astounds me.

I grew a lot.

Inevitable that, when I go through a lot of pain I either grow or I wither.

I was forced, it felt, in a way, to grow and grow in ways I never even imagined I could or would.

But fuck me.

I certainly did.

I suspect the growth is still going to happen, I don’t know how it can’t, but I feel that I am through some of the hardest parts of it.

I sincerely fucking hope so.

That kind of pain is just not sustainable.

I don’t know that I could have taken much more of it.

I ran into an acquaintance tonight who remarked on how different I looked, saying how obvious it was the amount of pain I was in on Saturday.

Of course, he thought it was all about the tooth pain, and truth be told when I saw him at the spot, it was painful.

 

 

 

 

 

And oh.

There.

Look.

Pain.

Again.

And again and again and again.

Hey, surprise.

You don’t get off the hook that easy.

Thought you were going to make it through the day didn’t you?

Fuck.

I’m just going to go now.

I’ve lost all ability to string a cogent sentence together.

I’ve been crying for the last hour.

I don’t know why I even bothered to try to write.

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

May god bless you and keep you and hold you tight, warm and safe and secure in the knowledge of all the love I have for you.

I can’t express all the love there is for you.

I can only go and cry my heart out some more over you.

Cry and cry and cry.

And.

Fucking cry.

 

           

 

Write It Out

November 7, 2016

To work it out.

I’m so grateful for my little old blog.

It does help me with the practice, with the writing, with the working it out so that I can work it out on paper too.

I just wrapped up another paper for school.

One more down.

One more step down the long, winding road toward becoming a therapist.

I wrote a nice paper, it was good, I liked it, I’m actually quite happy with it and I don’t have to worry about it over the upcoming week.

Next weekend I have another I have to do.

It’s twice the length and will need to be a lot more focused and detailed.

I started in on some of the reading that I will need to do for it today as well.

I had a full day, but it was good and I am very happy to say that I wasn’t nearly as anxious writing this paper as I have been before.

I did clean and cook like a house a fire.

There is something about having to write a paper that really does motivate me to have a sparkling clean house, fresh sheets on my bed, laundry folded and put away, groceries in the fridge and dinner cooking on the stove.

Plus I met with a lady and did some doing the deal and some reading and that really helps too.

I love that my house is so clean and tidy and smells delicious.

I actually made two different things today, a little extra food prep the weekends before I have a big paper due helps me out.

So.

I made chicken soup with the leftover roasted chicken I had.

And.

I made something new today that I had a hankering to try–coconut curry chicken with cauliflower, green pepper, onions, and carrots.

I don’t often make curry dishes, but I made something similar for the family on Friday and wanted to try it with my own little twist and I rather like it.

It could use a little tweaking, but really, I did pretty good for only having cooked a curry once before this.

It feels nice to have yummy food in my fridge and freezer, soup in Mason jars, clean sheets  on my bed, washed rugs in the bathroom, and that paper done.

That is really a good feeling.

I do have lots to read this week and it’s going to be a long week.

I’ll be doing a full 40 hours this week.

The boys are out of school on Thursday and Friday.

I’m ok with it, though it means less time for me to study, it does mean more money in my pocket and that will partially make up for the time I am taking off around Thanksgiving to go visit my school friend in Nevada.

I’m super happy to go hang out with her and amazed, freaking amazed that it’s November.

How does the time go by so quickly?

I suppose it helps that my days are full and busy.

Full and busy.

Next thing you know it will be Christmas.

The days they do fly by.

I was sharing with the lady I met with today that the time it does speed up, it does go faster, and there are so many things that I want to do.

I mean.

I could have done fifteen other things in addition to what I did do this weekend.

But.

I don’t have the time for it all.

I am however, grateful that I have been letting myself do a little more socially, a little bit more fellowship, a little more out in the world.

It’s a balance.

I’m not sure how that balance is going to look for next weekend.

I’m not certain I can squeeze in a date or an outing around needing to work on the paper.

I don’t have plans.

I’m going to allow myself a little fellowship either Friday night or Saturday night, but mainly it’s going to look a lot like staying home and doing the paper.

Oh, the papers.

I do feel that I’m getting better at organizing them and knowing what I need to address.

I actually wrote an outline of the one I did today.

I reviewed the readings, stuck some post it notes to the parts I wanted to cover, reviewed the directions in the syllabus and then I sat back and did the thing that helps me to push through.

One.

I prayed.

Yeah, I know, sounds hokey, but alleviates the stress of having to be perfect, I just remind myself that I need to show up and the words will come.

Two.

I finished cooking dinner and washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen.

I knew if I was going to write I needed to have it all done and put away or the dishes in the sink would be having a conversation with me while I wrote.

Three.

I took a picture of the notes and books and post it notes and I put it up on social media.

It’s a kind of accountability that I have found works surprisingly well.

Four.

I turned off the volume on my phone and flipped it face down so I would not see incoming messages, texts, or social media updates.

No distractions.

I also turned off the jazz, although I do love me some Sunday afternoon jazz listening, the music distracts.

Then I wrote.

I wrote the 1,956 words in one hour.

Don’t hate.

That’s why I love my blog so.

I have the practice of doing it consistently and the typing just flies out and so when I’m getting ready to write a paper, I remind myself of that.

And that it is a gift.

And an accomplishment.

I have been putting in the work, the practice, the blogging for years.

It is the culmination of that practice that I am grateful for, that helps me so when I have to do the writing.

Now.

Just to slog through the rest of the week with work and do as much reading as I can before next weekend.

I’m sure I’ll find some fun along the way.

Fingers crossed.

But if I don’t I’m ok with getting these papers addressed.

It’s a gigantic gift to get to be in graduate school.

Huge.

And now.

It’s a gift to wrap this up and watch a little video before bed.

I’ve got an early start tomorrow.

But it will feel very good knowing I have another paper behind me finished.

Yippee!

Here’s to starting off the week on the upswing.

Seriously.

 

 

 

I Got A Christmas Tree!

December 12, 2015

Yeah.

I know.

I am a dork.

So what?

I am a happy dork.

A very, very, very, very.

Happy ass dork.

Bwahahahaha.

Oh my gosh.

My heart is so full and bursting with love, it rather hurts.

But it’s that good kind of ache, that feeling when your face hurts from smiling a lot, my hurt hearts like that.

It’s an ache I can get used to.

I am also full and heart happy because I received the most beautiful gift from a girl friend today at school.

Oof.

I’m crying.

I just got so much love in this short little period of time.

I am almost overwhelmed by it.

Monstrous love.

How you try to eat me up, but I a still standing.

I shared something with this girl friend our last session at school, how I once had this angel ornament from when I was a little girl.

She was a porcelain angel, a little girl angel, with brown hair in a pink night gown with little bare feet underneath her kneeling legs and the smallest, prettiest pair of white porcelain wings.

Her head was bowed and she was praying with her eyes closed.

When I was a little girl I would think of that little Christmas ornament as me, as my best self, as that perfect little angel–literally.

I felt like a tiny bit of my soul was thrown away when I discovered I had lost that angel, that it had been thrown out in the trash.

I had forgotten about that angel until I saw my friend the first day of our class retreat across the room from me in a gigantic circle.

She was kneeling, her hands resting on her thighs, relaxed, yet alert with a kind of grace and lightness about her and she glowed.

Yeah.

I know.

Maybe it was because she was backlit.

Maybe it was because I was just actually seeing her true self with no filters.

Just this warm, white glow.

Sometimes people are lit up for you to see.

You just have to take the time to stop and notice them.

We had our reunion today at school.

She lives out of state and commutes in for the weekend.

It constantly amazes me the students that do that, hell I bitch about commuting from the Outer Sunset and there is a woman in my cohort who commutes from Miami, Florida.

It was wonderful to catch up and she told me she had a little something for me.

My birthday is next Friday, but I won’t see any of my classmates after this weekend until next semester.

Wow.

That is crazy to write!

Anyway.

She gave me the gift and said, I was drawn to it, it reminded me of you, open it when you get home.

I gave her a big hug and stuck it in my bag, and though I did not forget I also was distracted by a text that told me I had something waiting for me at my door when I got home.

I pulled up on my scooter after refueling at the gas station (figured I was going to have to do it tomorrow, might as well get it out of the way tonight) for the grand total of $1.63 and I peeked into the gated area of my house.

I didn’t see anything.

I thought, oh, I bet my housemate took what ever it was inside and left it by my door.

I secured my scooter, grabbed my keys, and went in the gate.

And there it was.

The tiniest.

Sweetest.

Most adorable little Christmas tree ever.

My heart, like the Grinch who stole Christmas, broke open four sizes too big and my face broke out in a smile and I laughed with pure joy.

I got a Christmas tree!

My darling, sweet, dear friend had left me a Christmas tree on my door step.

Am I the luckiest girl in the world or what?

I brought it inside.

Arranged my kitchen table.

Tucked my school books away for the night and took out my box of Christmas ornaments from the entry closet.

I strung it with blue lights and hung it with ornaments and my heart grew bigger and my smile grew brighter and well.

I think I just became this beacon of pure love in my little home.

I unpacked my present from my school girl friend and set it under the Christmas tree.

Perfect.

Absolute perfection.

I smiled some more.

I really was the fucking biggest dork, I don’t know if I could have let any one see me in these moments, even now I am a bit ridiculous with my glee.

Then.

I opened my gift.

Oh my goodness.

An angel.

A beautiful angel with brown hair.

Tiny wings on the backs of her strong shoulders.

Hands clasped behind in humility.

Eyes down looked and close.

Serene look on her face.

Roses.

Yes roses in her hair.

And these words carved into the fabric of her long dress:

Seeker

She could 

hardly believe

all that 

was waiting

when she 

finally opened

her Heart

and followed

her TRUE NORTH.

 

Excuse me while I collapse with tears.

The thing is.

It hit me while I was beginning this blog.

It was like she gave me back my little girl angel.

Except.

All grown up.

Alive, whole, beautiful, stronger for having been discarded, standing on her own feet, wings open behind her, serenity etched on her face.

I felt this wash of sorrow and grief open in me and flood out of my heart for the little girl that I had lost and for the gift of her coming back to me.

More alive and real than I could have ever imagined back when I was so young and struggling and lost to the wiles of the world.

I am still seeking.

And may I seek forever and for always.

I know, though, I am well on my way and loved.

Oh.

So.

Loved.

I put my angel at the foot of my Christmas tree.

My little guy is too small to bear the weight of the angel.

So she will be my anchor and my acknowledgement of who I am.

Of how far I have come and.

Most importantly.

How I shall proceed.

From a deep abiding place.

Of

Compassion.

Joy.

And.

Love.

 

 

 


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