Wandering Thoughts on Mother’s Day

We beat ourselves against the role and we bleed our pain.

And while we do this, Heavenly Mother watches and waits. She whispers to us the truth that seems to only become visible through the pain, You are your own mother.

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The Journey of the Warrior

It’s Tuesday morning.  I wake up early, probably 20 minutes before little one starts chant-singing, Mommy-Mommy-Mommy.  I lay in bed watching the gray dawn through my bedroom curtains.  I’m thinking about my journal session the night before.  There are many days when I write and it doesn’t amount to much.  But sometimes, when I’m really…

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All things are true

A few weeks ago, after I wrote the post How to start feeling, I asked my therapist, “Do we ever stop numbing?  I mean, is there some transcendental state that is attainable where we never numb our feelings again?  Is that even possible?  Is even that the goal?”   I’m not going to try to…

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Waking up

I’m just waking up this morning.  I heard River get up out of bed and walk through the house.  Then he climbed back into bed, ate a little dry cereal from the bowl he requested last night and he’s been quiet for a while now.  I have been mulling over this question of how to…

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The Marco Polo Prayer

Sometimes I can’t feel god.  I used to think this was because of something I had done.  That god had withdrawn from me.  I learned in church that god cannot dwell in unholy places so I assumed if I couldn’t feel god then something unholy was going on inside of me.  I felt shame about…

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Day 8: The call is inside me

I wanted to write this post immediately on returning from Hawaii, but for some reason, I couldn’t.  Some things need a little time to settle.  On our last day, Cass and I woke up early, packed up our things and drove with the top down to Pu’uhonua O Honaunau.  It’s a national historic park, south…

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The luxury of play

Torrey Pines has become a holy place to me.  I’ve made it a routine stop on my way back from dropping R at his dad’s house.   I get out of my car and smell the bushy plants of the coast and the estuary.  It reminds me of the smell of the sage brush in…

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There is beauty in the wobble.

Saul was one of the first patients in San Diego to scream at me.  I remember the first time seeing him.  I went into the field with my nurse to see patients in their homes.  We came to his independent living facility (ILF), which was house in a poorer neighborhood in San Diego.  I followed…

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Light and shadow

When I was in Hawaii last week, I visited Painted Church or, more properly, St. Benedict’s Catholic Church.  It’s a scenic, little-white-church tucked away in the greenery south of Kona and worth a quick stop.  The church is famous for the murals covering the walls and ceiling, painted by Father John Velghe, an untrained folk…

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