Hey Grandma. That primitive part of my brain wants to throw a tantrum like a toddler or protect me as if a lion is in the room, ready to attack, signals that need to change. Retraining such a primitive place seems scary and something I do know anything about, despite years of study for this. Now that I have been asked to do such a thing, that primitive brain wants to over ride all control centers and make me believe I should freak out and quit. So here I am, just sitting with you Grandma, reminding myself I can slow down and just take this one moment, right here, right now. I have been taking this course, teaching me all about my brain and how to retrain the neurocircuitry to decrease my chronic pain and to feel it only when its appropriate to feel pain, not hypersensitive to incorrect non-pain inducing stimuli. Something my brain is very confused about. Because of this hypersensitivity my primitive part of my brain wants to convince me I need to feel...
Hello Grandma, is there wind in heaven? Lately I have been feeling a new kind of wind. A gush of impressions, this type of wind full of ideas of who I am supposed to be, suggesting I do and become something different. At times it comes so violently that I struggle to know what to try to hold onto and what to allow to blow away, letting go of what no longer needs to be mine. It is freeing and scary, two feelings that seem to impose the other, and yet both are flying at me with the same force. For years I have been searching for this new wind and I am ready to establish something different for myself. Yet, I forgot that with wind comes rain and debris, uncomfortable counterparts to change. I have prepared for this wind for half my life, I have to trust that through the storm I will hold on tight to what needs to stay mine, and let go of what no longer needs my gasp.