The World I See

    Today I am using lessons 199 and 31, from A Course In Miracles, (in that order) so that I can begin to identify more with my soul than my body because in doing so, it will be easier to let go of the ways in which the world has seemed to harm me.

"I am not a body. I am free. I am not a victim of the world I see."

    If we can internalize these two lessons and begin to view ourselves as souls observing the world through human experiences, we can begin to dissolve our victim mentality. Acknowledging that our truest essence is our soul, something that isn't of the physical realm, allows us to change the way we perceive our hardships. These trials, tribulations, and traumas are real and valid, yes, but they happened to your human form while your soul remained your true essence. Identifying as a soul first and as a body second will have an empowering effect on the ways in which we perceive the world around us.

The World I See

I am not a body. I am free.
I am not a victim of the world I see.
I am the inventor.
I am the creator
and the observer of the world I see.

I am not a body. I am free.
I am not a victim of the world I see.
I am the listener.
I am the receiver
and the perceiver of the world I see.

As I acknowledge my soul,
I see my wholeness.
As I acknowledge my etheric essence,
I see my holiness.
As I acknowledge my soul,
I see my worthiness.

I am not a body. I am free.
I am not a victim of the world I see.
I am the artist.
I am the writer
and director of the world I see.

As I acknowledge my soul,
I see my innocence.
As I acknowledge my etheric essence,
I see myself as God's beloved child.
As I acknowledge my soul,
I see the wondrous miracle
that is my life.

I am not a body. I am free.
I am not a victim of the world I see.

One Source of Anxiety

    We are all different, that's why we call ourselves individuals. But some people find it hard to relate to and befriend those who have differences they can't understand. My differences, as I've stated once before, caused me to be an epicenter for misunderstandings which led my peers to go from impatient and frustrated with me, to holding grudges against me, to disliking or hating me. That is what has led me to believe that I am always just one faux pas away from losing people. I get stuck in that mindset and make it my mission to resolve every misunderstanding as quickly as possible and to explain myself with each apology. I always say, "I'm sorry. I did x, y, and z, because I figured a, b, and c." It's a stressful way to view things which explains my constant state of anxiety. I love people dearly and am convinced that I will say or do something that will push them away and that's a big reason why I don't reach out to people in the midst of my depressive episodes. It's my own personal crisis and I feel that I'm the one responsible for getting myself out of it. 

Nothing to Pretend

I've been called to take center stage...
And I've said yes.
Not because I want or like the spotlight,
but because I'm still afraid of the spotlight,
and yet I feel in my heart of hearts
and in the depths of my soul
that this is a fear I must face head on.
It is not my first time swallowing my fear,
but it is the first time I have done so
for something outside the scope
of theater and band.

This time there is no charade; no character to play.
This time there are no accompanying performers
to keep the anxiety at bay.
I must stand on my own
and act as though
I have a great deal of confidence,
as though I have some self-assurance;
and maybe by the end,
there will be nothing to pretend.

A Beautiful Mess

There are times when I look at my life
and all I see is a mess.
There are other times when I look at my life
and I see a beautiful mess.

There have been times when I look at myself
and all I see is the insanity.
But there are also times when I see my strength.

All things considered, I turned out quite alright,
and yet--I often feel ashamed and embarrassed
that I don't know how to be human.
I have felt like an alien from the start,
with a heart no one could reach
and a mind no one could read.

And despite my progress, some things feel harder.
I want to feel whole. I want to feel lovable.
But I question these things.
I feel as though I must reach a certain place
of sanity-- or clarity-- or stability--or--
in order to be loved
and that until I do so
I am annoying, in the way,
or otherwise burdensome.

Of course, these are all lies the ego still clings to.
I know this to be true.
And I shall take the moment now,
to invite God into all the places within me,
that still believe these lies.

Dear Mother, Father, God,
I invite you and I invoke you
into my mind, into my body, and into my energies
so that I may be healed from all the falsehoods
my ego yet clings to.

Dear Mother, Father, God,
please pour Your loving light
into the places within me
that have internalized the condemnation of others
so I may heal my consciousness.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God.

Greater Than the Sum of Their Parts

In the beginning, one might say,
that my soul was torn asunder,
but just like bone, it shall grow back stronger.
From the start, it might be said,
that my heart had broken open,
but just like the parting clouds,
more love and light can now move through me.

My restless, sleepless nights may,
on occasion, fray my mind,
but at times this makes it easier
to sense Your presence, God.
My brokenness has become a blessing.
For it brought me closer to You.
I had searched through the darkness
of my despair for your presence.
And though I could not fully perceive You at first,
there was the smallest glimmer of hope
that I, perhaps, was not alone.

The countless shards of my battered heart,
my scattered mind,
and tattered soul,
are being gently and carefully
put back together
with the ever present,
ever steady hands of Mother, Father, God.

When my heart, mind, and soul have healed,
they shall not only be stronger,
but they shall also become greater
than the sum of their parts;
since each piece shall now carry faith
and a lesson in compassion;
since each piece shall now carry truth
and a lesson in unconditional love;
since each piece shall now carry forgiveness
and the love of an enemy.

Our broken minds can lead us
to a more expansive vision;
our broken hearts can lead us
to an expanded experience of love;
our broken souls can lead us
to an expanded awareness of God...
but only if we make that choice.

So though my soul was torn asunder,
and though my heart broke apart,
the holes and the cracks have since been filled
with unshakable faith,
enabling me
to make a fresh start.

*Not entirely sure if the following lines work or if they make my whole message sound rather cheesy. 😅😆

*May it be that we see God's peace
instead of the pieces.
May it be that we feel God's bliss
as he mends our fissures with a kiss.*

An Unexpected Debbie Downer Day

    Despite waking at 4 a.m. or so this morning, I was flying sky high. I couldn't have been happier. I wish that high came with a warning label...because I just spent a good portion of the afternoon cussing like a sailor and having a very reasonable tantrum about where the hell I am supposed to start living now that my grandfather has passed away.
    My mom doesn't want to share the bungalow, and for good reason; it's nearly impossible to have a private phone conversation in that tiny house. I moved all my stuff out of my friend's parents' basement that I had stayed in up until my grandfather fell ill since their situation has recently changed. And on top of that my dad wants me to move all the rest of my childhood stuff out of his storage area by throwing it out or taking it with me. I could theoretically live in my half-brother's basement next door to my mom's place... On top of this, did I mention I have a Yaris? It's a GREAT car, but NOT for moving the amount of shit I am currently having to store in various places at my grandfather's house. That task alone would take several trips...if I even had a location in mind, which I don't. So I have no housing after having moved locations 4 times last year, no current job since I quit Oct. 2019 so I could have the energy to search for and buy a used car. As I said, a perfectly reasonable tantrum. It's not easy to carry all this around while grieving and pretending I'm fine. Which most of the time, I believe I am. My default state is typically not a sour one...

How My Grief Became a Blessing

So I believe I just found the title of my first book; go no further than the title of this post.

While in the midst of the lowest of lows,
I allowed that feeling to cause me to be
the person who befriended
those whom most needed a friend.

My inability to fit in
led me to deeper connections
with more interesting people;
for neither party tainted the kinship
with judgements or conditional love.

On some nights, I would allow my insomnia,
my sleep deprivation, to make me a clearer channel
and I'd write the thoughts of God.

Without fully recognizing what I was doing,
I would use the pain I have experienced,
again and again,
as a way to empathize and show patient compassion
for those who have also suffered greatly.

Not one of my friends had to tell me
why they felt the way they felt or
why they acted the way they acted
for me to love them wholly and completely,
just as they were.

Time and time again, I would
use the way other people had mistreated me,
to guide me towards the way of love.
People had judged me
before they knew anything about me
because they could not get past the fact
that I was always the epicenter
of misunderstandings.

My heart-ache caused me to lean on
the nurturing presence Mother Nature,
spurring me to travel on foot
through mountains and valleys,
through forest streams and rocky outcroppings.
This journey led me straight to God;
the God out there,
and the God within.

And now--
well now I have reached a place
where I can proclaim that my grief became a blessing
and my wounds a privilege.
For my grief has spurred me
to heal not only myself,

but also those around me
with a fervor that can only be born
of personal strife.

How Our Suffering Can Bring Us to God

    Today I finally took the time to watch the Ram Dass documentary, "Fierce Grace". In the film he mentions that his former guru once said to him, "My suffering brings me closer to God." Believe it or not, I get that. It's because of all the ways I have suffered that I searched for my faith. While hiking the trail, my initial goal, as I once said, was to begin to believe in myself, "to prove myself to myself", yet by the end, I also believed in God. I never expected that transformation. The presence of a god had always seemed like wishful thinking to me. As so many atheists ask, "If there's a god, why would he let _______ happen?" Why would he let people blow each other up? Why would he allow children to be traumatized by their parents and then have those children grow up to hate themselves?
    These are all valid questions and the answer will always be: because of free will and because our pain blinds us. Humans carry suffering forward, generation after generation because they can't see past their own hurts. When that pain festers within their psyche, it begins to cause them to poison those around them. Not all of us have the will power or the inner strength to choose to see beyond it. Many of us sway wildly between wanting to spread our pain and trying to bury it so that we can at least try to give people joy. Our suffering keeps us from being rational, keeps us from being conscious, until we allow it to be our guide. I asked myself over and over again, "how can I find a way out of this?" It may have taken 6 years between the end of my denial and my Appalachian Trail through-hike, but I daydreamed about the AT throughout those 6 years of grief.
    One thing I've been trying to find a way to articulate is that despite how often I may get caught up in the whole "woe is me" bullsh*t, when my thoughts wander to my biological father, I don't feel any anger towards him. The closest word for how I feel about him is indifferent. He was a storm that I got caught in. My biological mother left me in the care of a hurricane and the hurricane did what hurricanes do. Now on the flip side, I hate that this led me to experience an extraordinary level of self-loathing, subtle at first, but then it became all encompassing. I hate that it led me to be incapable of experiencing the emotional intimacy necessary for falling in love (until about 21). I have spent a lot of my time hating the emotional, psychological, and physiological fallout of the experience, but over the last 11 years, I haven't felt even a sliver of hatred or anger towards my father whatsoever. I do not equate this with forgiveness. If I had forgiven him fully, I would hardly ever think about him.

    But I can accept that my biological father was, in his own way, walking me closer to God. There are so many amazing things that HAVE happened in my life that probably never would have, had this trauma not occurred. There are so many ideas incubating in my mind about how we can change the future for the new generations that would not be there if I had not been through what I'd been through. I can accept that as I allow my suffering to bring me into the arms of God, that those around me will also be brought into the arms of God. 

The Importance of Community & How Our Pain Can Become Our Superpower

    I wrote a few days ago that if my own deep wounds are what enable me to heal others more deeply, then it is my privilege to carry these wounds. And I mean that from the depths of my soul. I just want to bring this message a little deeper into my consciousness today by expounding on this statement.
    I read a couple weeks ago a book entitled What Happened to You? by Oprah Winfrey and Dr. Bruce Perry and they say in that book more than once, that the most crucial component to recovering from past trauma and its devastating effects on our psyche is community; a place where one can feel they belong, where one can feel 100% accepted exactly as they are with all of their idiosyncrasies, with their differing needs, and unresolved triggers. This means that there is nothing more important than our connection to one another, there is nothing more important than the time we spend listening to, supporting, and healing each other. So when I say that it is my privilege to carry the deep wounds that I carry, it is because those wounds are what allow me to contribute a more profound level of healing to the communities I become a part of. But I must add, that the community I have found has been essential to my growth. We spur each other onward, we heal in tandem with one another. That's the beauty of the human experience.
    Just last night, I thought about the movie What a Wonderful Life and how the young man began to wish he had never been born. Well, the number of times I have wished to have had a past without traumas has been incalculable. But, just like in that movie, had the survivor version of me never existed, perhaps those around me would be a little worse off. If I had never pulled myself through a massive crisis of faith, my words would have little weight. My anguish is what gave me my power; my power to heal, my power to uplift, my power to inspire; and it would be silly of me to waste any more time wishing that things had been different.

The Inner Work Continues

    My friends see in me something I have yet to see in myself and I am grateful for that. I can't see what they see because my wounds have obscured my vision; they are often all I see. I'm so caught up with the task of trying to heal from and untangle myself from past hurts, that I can't make out where I'm going or who I am. I've been dreaming about writing a book to help me with this and have been inclined to write under the name I was born with: Charlotte Wolfe. My idea behind this is that I feel the need to give this version of me her voice back since it was so unceremoniously snatched from her. Hopefully, as I write out all my grief and wonder, all my sources of sorrow and moments of elation, I will begin to feel more self-compassion.
    People may not realize this, but self-compassion is hard after what I've been through. In my mind, currently, my trauma caused me to become a freak that almost no one could understand; and as the misunderstandings between me and my peers kept piling on, my classmates first got frustrated and impatient with me, then they began holding a grudge against me, until one day the continual misunderstandings led to outright contempt. I couldn't tell them that I was crazy because of trauma, because I was convinced that my life hadn't been bad enough for me to be as insane as I felt I was. I never felt that I had an excuse to act the way I acted, but I could never stop myself from behaving unpredictably. I wanted, and still often want, beyond anything else, to be "normal" and yet I was crying due to traumas I couldn't remember. This separation, or dichotomy, between my reality and what I perceived my reality to be has caused me to be impatient with myself. I failed to have compassion for myself because I have felt that I was defective for no apparent reason.
    The good news is, I see this now and I am working on mending this misperception and forgiving myself for being extra reactive to events that triggered my body's memory of trauma. What's really hard for me now is that certain things have occurred this past year that have caused me to feel absolutely certain that everyone hates me and is simply pretending; that they have grown tired of my "woe is me" and "loathe is me" moments. In all honesty, the hell-scape that has existed in my head was supposed to remain a secret to the people around me, but it leaked out like the contents of an over-pressurized pressure cooker. The insane train came along and barreled right through my rational mind and all the coping skills I have acquired over the years and quickly convinced me that I was despicable and everyone knew it.
    Again, I'm working on all this. In my quiet moments of meditation, I have been hearing, "Don't worry, beloved. We've got you." At night before falling asleep, I repeat the mantra, "Let me lean into the wisdom of my soul, for my soul knows how to heal itself." 

I Want to See

Expounding upon A Course in Miracles (ACIM) lesson 27: "Dear God, above all else, I want to see."

Dear God, above all else, I want to see.
I want to see that this pain is part of the miracle.
May I learn to love this pain as I would love any other miracle.
Dear God, I want to see.
I want to see myself as You see me, God.
I want to see my life as You see it, God.
For I have seen myself through the eyes of those who would condemn me
and I have learned to see my life through the lens of my pain
instead of the lens of Your ceaseless love and grace. 
Dear God, above all else, I want to see.
I want to see Your children as You do, God.
I want to forgive all those who have harmed me
and all those who have harmed my friends.
Dear God, I want to see.
I want to see all the love that surrounds me.
I want to see the abundance that abounds in me.
I want to see Your hand in all things.
Dear God, above all else, I want to see.
Thank You, God. Thank You, God. Thank You, God.
Let this be so. And so it is. Amen.

To Lean Into the Wisdom of My Soul

Dear God, what would You have me know today?
Dear God, what would You have me see today?
Dear God, what would you have me learn today?

Dear Mother, Father, God, I surrender to Your will in this moment. 
Dear Mother, Father, God, I surrender to Your peace in this moment.
Dear Mother, Father, God, I surrender to Your love, Your healing grace.
Dear Mother, Father, God, I wish to lean into the wisdom of my soul.
I wish to hear Your voice, Your guidance today.
For I have been at a loss.
Try as I might, no matter how much progress I make,
I can only see how much further I have to go.
Let me not judge my moments of relapse.
Let me not judge my moments of instability.
Dear God, help me to recognize that I don't have to wait for perfection in order to receive love.
Dear God, help me to remember that despite my human flaws and shortcomings, that You still view me as perfect, whole, and complete, that You still view me as Your beloved child. Dear God, please reassure me that my best is always enough even when I feel I've fallen short.
Please assure me that I am still well on my way despite my obsession with each hang up I encounter. For every time I heal a deeper layer and then find myself in the midst of yet another break-down, I can't help but kick myself for my folly.
Dear Mother, Father, God, please guide me through the coming weeks, months, and years, for I know not how to reach the vision You've shown me without Your ever steady hand.
Thank You, God. Thank You, God. Thank You, God.
Let this be so. And so it is. Amen.
 

Walking the Line of a Paradigm

Does it take time
to shift this paradigm?
I guess it does,
'cause I'm just walking the line.

While I don't wish to live
with my ego's lies
lurking in my head,
I have yet to lean into
the wisdom of my soul.

I've done the mind fraying, soul wearing work
of uncovering the insidious, subconscious subterfuge.
After hours of praying and crying and wishing,
I have hit the root of my trouble.
Beneath all the layers of the ego's subtle aspersions
was "You don't matter", and
"Your trauma made you unlovable".

So I struck this root hard,
and now I find myself
in a tremorous, quivering state
due to both the swiftness of the strike
and the harshness of the lies.
I am both afraid of and empowered by
what I uncovered.
For now I can choose a brand new mind-scape,
one that's filled with only loving truth.

So what is it I'm waiting for? I haven't a clue.
But perhaps this paradigm shift takes time
and perhaps that's why
I'm still walking the line.

The Privilege of the Wounds I Carry

If my own deep wounds are what enable me
to heal others more deeply,
then it is my privilege to carry these wounds.
It is my privilege to serve the broken hearts of others.
It is my privilege to serve the fraying minds of others.
For I have been in the midst of life's most mortifying battles
and have deep respect those
who have had to endure them longer than me.

I know my story might not be that compelling
to those who did not get rescued as my siblings and I did,
but the trauma I weathered changed the entire trajectory of my life.
I struggled in school because of it.
I struggled to make friends because of it. 
And each interaction that went awry,
felt like someone had picked up a stick
and prodded an open, festering wound.

But I am not here to try to compare and contrast
my scars with yours
or to justify my opening sentiment.
I am here simply to say to other survivors,
I see you, I am you, and I love you.
I know the pain of heartache,
I know the wounding of worthlessness,
I know the horrors of helplessness
and I want you to feel seen and heard.
Your story matters.
Your voice matters.
Your pain matters.

Denial Uncovered

Content warning: discusses past abuse/trauma
    I'm not sure why it took me this long to recognize the level of denial I have been in over the last decade, but, well, here we are. In elementary school, when I would review the few memories I had from my life prior to the adoption, I felt indifferent about them and took that as a sign that I was not a traumatized child. Despite connecting one of my oddest breakdowns directly to a trauma, I refused to label the recalled memory a traumatic one.
    Currently what has been going on is that I only count the sexual assault I survived as the trauma that is most affecting me and all the "smaller" ones were just unfortunate. It has come to my attention that it is most probable that I continue to feel indifferent about the ways in which I suffered early on because my ego quickly came to conclusion that whatever violence happens against me doesn't matter, because I don't matter. Now, had my soul been the source of the indifference, it would have assured me that none of the traumas that occurred matter because I am still a beloved child of God, I am still perfect, whole, and complete, I am still wholly holy. Why I have decided that only one of my traumas is impacting me is beyond me.

When the ego says: I don't care what others think
it is really saying: I don't care if what others say or do hurts me because I know I belong at the bottom of the totem pole.
But when the soul says: I don't care what others think
it is really saying: I know that no matter what others say and do,
I am still a beloved child of God.
I know that I am still wholly holy, still worthy.
When the ego claims fearlessness,
it is really saying: I don't particularly care if my parachute opens.
But when the soul proclaims fearlessness,
it is saying: I am certain that my parachute will always open for me.
When the ego is indifferent about past suffering
it is saying: What happened to me doesn't matter because I don't matter.
When the soul is indifferent about past trials it is saying: What happened to me doesn't matter because I am still perfect whole and complete, I am still loved and lovable.
When the ego embraces pain, it is saying: I accept this pain because I deserve it.
When the soul accepts pain it is saying: I accept the lesson this pain has to offer.

Dear Mother, Father, God, from now on let me choose the assurances of the soul over the wounding degradation of the ego. Dear Mother, Father, God from now on let me choose the faith of my soul over the dread of the ego. Dear Mother Father God, may I leave behind my denial today and accept that I have so much more to heal. I open to your healing grace so that you may heal that which I have covered over in denial. Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God.