Do some service.
Get the fuck out of your head.
Worked like a freaking charm.
I sat and listened to an amazing woman today for hours.
I did a lot of reading.
I did some client work.
I got asked to do a speaking engagement and did that too.
It was fantastic.
To get to be my complete self, lit up, on fire, alive, in love, all the things.
I don’t remember what I said, which is good, that means I wasn’t trying to manipulate how people saw me, I was just sharing.
And my God.
The gratitude.
I smiled so hard.
My face actually got a little sore from smiling so much.
And.
Yes, of course, there were some tears, and love was talked about and I got to reflect on how much love I have been given and how much I still get to give back and out into the world.
It’s amazing.
I was also told this, “you sound like a psychologist!” A sweet man told me after.
That was really nice to hear.
I am grateful for so much in my life.
I have a life, I am alive, that is the start, and you know, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, it bears repeating, if life were fair, I’d be dead.
Life is not fair, I have more than I can have ever imagined or asked for.
I have extraordinary people in my life.
I have people I love and who love me.
I have a full heart.
I don’t do so many of the things that I used to under the guise of it makes me feel better, but really it just made me feel worse, temporary solutions to the pain I was living with.
Like smoking cigarettes, man, I still forget that, I haven’t smoked in twelve years!
No sugar.
No flour.
No booze.
No cocaine.
Sure.
I still use salt, but please, really, don’t take away my last white powder!
I also do things that I always wanted to do but I would just talk about doing them, I didn’t actually do them.
Like.
Oh.
Writing.
I write every motherfucking day.
How amazing is that?
That I consistently give myself the gift of sitting down to paper and pen and getting honest with my heart.
It is no easy task and it always gives so much back to me.
So too, this little blog.
I do love the writing, I love how my fingers fly over the keyboard, I love how the words pour out of my hands, a direct conduit from the love in my heart.
I have a great job.
I have a site to get all my practicum hours so that I can graduate in May.
Jesus.
I get to go to grad school!
How many people actually get to do that?
Granted I was getting hella frustrated with the FAFSA online tools which kept telling me my passwords were wrong and wouldn’t let me access my student account.
I have to file for the 2018 financial year.
I have not applied to school yet, but I have some fairly serious ambitions to do so, to go for the PhD, I’m thinking that I would get in Transpersonal Studies, which is a two-year program at my school.
I have to flesh some things out, when I would apply, what I might want to dissertate on.
“You should totally do it!” My therapist enjoined me. “You find so much richness for yourself in the academic world.”
I had not thought of it like that.
I had thought of it, like I want a PhD, ego stuff.
Then.
When a professor I highly respected told me that I could be of more service in my community with a PhD I thought, yeah, I should do that.
Then.
Well.
I know this sounds kind of crazy, but it also sort of makes sense to me, it would mean being in school two more years and that would give me two more years to acquire hours at my internship before I have to start paying back on my student loans.
I am not in a paid internship.
I’m not sure that I could swing paying back student loans on top of getting my hours.
Then again.
I just keep saying, it’s God’s money, it will work out.
I do believe that.
But.
When my therapist reframed the continuation of school by reflecting to me how much I have gotten out of school, just personally, how much I have grown, that I am giving myself an opportunity to learn more and grow more.
I really liked thinking of it.
So grateful for my therapist.
We started in on a hard piece for me last week.
It was something that I have been holding for a while and I knew eventually it was going to have to come out and the work would need to be done on it.
I have done a lot of work, but there is still more to do, still places of pain that need to be touched into, places I need to grieve, things lost that I don’t know I’ve really let myself see that I had lost.
I don’t want to wallow in my past.
I don’t.
It doesn’t really serve.
But I do want to integrate those experiences, grieve what needs to be grieved, and let it go.
My therapists face when I was getting into some of it, how she pulled me back, grounded me, settled me back, ran over time with me to make sure I was calibrated and strong enough to leave the office.
I had tears on my face and many crumpled tissues, but I also felt a kind of inner awareness that this is where the real work is going to happen and I can get through it all the way.
I wasn’t collapsed in, I was strong, I was lightened, I lightened the load a tiny bit and left a good bit of it in a tissue in the wastebasket.
I have the strength to get in there, dig it out, and let it the fuck go.
So grateful for that.
I am resilient.
I have inner love and joy and strength and light.
I have been given so much love in the last few years, so much more than I thought I deserved, so much appreciation for who I am and what I do.
I really am loved.
I really am lovable.
I am enough.
I have enough.
And.
I get to give it all away.
Which.
Oh.
Glorious paradox.
Is.
The only way I can keep it.
The only way.
Auntiebubba 