Sometimes You Need To Be Reminded What You’re Fighting For

Sometimes You Need To Be Reminded What You’re Fighting For

It can appear subtle, even innocuous. Yet to the recipient the impact of their words and actions can profoundly influence the direction of a life.

Life can lull us into settling in, where making peace with the less-than-desirable situations is preferred to the isolation of standing your ground and honoring the vision and the intention of the life you’ve told yourself you want to create. There is a level of comfort in surrendering and accepting, until you’re eventually made uncomfortable as you’re reminded of the price you’ve paid for your emotional appeasement.

For those willing to move forward with an intentional life, those intentions are often tested in order to evaluate just how committed you actually are. The Universe knows that talk is indeed very cheap. It’s quite easy to espouse your intentions, but it’s a whole different story if you’re Continue reading “Sometimes You Need To Be Reminded What You’re Fighting For”

Our Own Sacred Space To Unfold

Our Own Sacred Space To Unfold

Growth should come with a warning label. Not to dissuade anyone from starting, but just to let them know what lies ahead.

For some, growth is a luxury, a curiosity-based exploration into the further reaches of human potential. For others, growth is a necessity, driven by the consistent and crushing emotional weight of unresolved trauma and pain, to the point where a journey through the fire becomes the only viable option.

Mine was more of a necessity.

A commitment to growth signs you up for a process of learning and unlearning, of discovering and uncovering, of defining and re-defining, of anxiously diving into the deep end of your emotional pool while questioning your ability to swim. 

And knowing nobody is coming to save you once you hit the water.

The journey through my own fires has been a challenging and meandering undertaking, at times Continue reading “Our Own Sacred Space To Unfold”

Trauma, Healing, Compassion, & Empathy

Trauma, Healing, Compassion, & Empathy

Perhaps this would have changed everything?

Just a few right words spoken at the right time could have significantly shifted the direction of that life. Or those reassuring conversations which were vulnerably started yet were met with a defiant wall of silence, the desperately extended hand not grasped by one who could have pulled us to a space of emotional safety.

The seeds of our greatest possibility never watered, the weeds of our insecurities and fears never pulled.

As I sit here this early morning, I find I am reflecting upon some of the stories I’ve both witnessed and experienced, some deeply painful life trauma stories others have bravely entrusted me with and the painful ones I’ve lived through on my own. 

Our deepest pains are personal and seldom understood by others. Or even our self. The screams are often silent, and we carry this heaviness alone, simply moving forward the best we can, sometimes in rather unhealthy ways as we try to numb a pain only we can feel. Trauma is alive and invisibly thriving within all of us at one level or another. 

As I’ve worked with my own traumatic experiences I’ve come to respect their presence in my life. No longer do I attempt to minimize their impact upon me. No longer do I chastise myself for letting events and outcomes I did not control actually control me. The pain and its impact have yet to be fully worked through, and perhaps they may never be fully processed. But there is no longer anyone to blame, neither the ones who unknowingly inflicted a pain that would shape a lifetime, nor the recipient of the pain for letting it do so.

This is where my healing truly begins.

I often wondered what life would have been like had those few right words at the right time been Continue reading “Trauma, Healing, Compassion, & Empathy”

Making Space For The Hurt

Making Space For The Hurt

I bet Mother’s Day has always sucked for Shawn and Zig.

Shawn and Zig were two friends I grew up with in the neighborhood. Both lost their Moms when they were quite young. They were old enough to understand what had happened, yet not quite old enough to understand why it happened.

I don’t think they’ve ever understood why, even all these decades later.

Their pain was never something they brought up. They just carried it with them, silently, as they bravely tried to move on with their forever-changed young lives. Time simply doesn’t heal wounds of this magnitude. You just learn to deal with it, in your own way, in your own time.

To look at them both you’d never know of the heaviness that was weighing them down, their pain undetectable to the uninitiated. But that’s kind of how we deal with our pains, isn’t it? Silently. Isolated. Our burden, ours alone to carry.

While pain may be visibly undetectable, life has taught me that the vast majority of us silently carry our own degree of pain and hurt just below the surface. Life certainly is a contact sport and we all have our scars and bruises inherent with simply being alive.

Everybody hurts.

Yet, do we make space for the hurt?

You’d think with the commonality of pain we all share we’d all be a bit more understanding. Since we do Continue reading “Making Space For The Hurt”

Is It Safe For Me To Talk About Mental Health?

Is It Safe For Me To Talk About Mental Health?

Life certainly has it’s share of pain, doesn’t it?

May is National Mental Health Awareness Month. One of the goals of NMHA Month is to hopefully provide a safe space for uncomfortable conversations around mental and emotional health. The unfortunate stigmas surrounding mental health often prevent any conversations from even getting started. That silence keeps us suffering…alone. Alone with the pain and the hurt and the anxiety and isolation we may be experiencing.

That silence, at times, can even end lives.

That’s how I lost my brother Steve.

As a man, I was taught to keep my emotions to myself. I think most men have been told or shown the same. Expressing emotions is a sign of weakness, they’d say. “Real” men simply “suck it up” or “deal with it” or are told to “man up”. Manhood and emotions don’t mix, I was told. Generational stigma often keeps us from even admitting that we are struggling, let alone actually seeking some help and guidance. And while I’ve only experienced this from my male perspective, mental health stigma is not gender specific.

Mental and emotional health challenges quietly impact every section of our society.

The silence perpetuates the stigma.

This stigma needs to end.

There are many of us dealing with the heaviness life sometimes forces us to carry…the loss, the anxiety, the uncertainty, the unhealed traumas, the emotional scars, the pressure, the unmet needs and Continue reading “Is It Safe For Me To Talk About Mental Health?”

Turkeys, Trees, and The Tradition Of Pain

Turkeys, Trees, and The Tradition Of Pain

There’s nothing like the smell of chicken hearts and gizzards boiling in a sauce pan on the stove.

Deb is a holiday traditionalist. And one of her most important Thanksgiving traditions is making her Mom’s stuffing. It’s become a more significant tradition now that her Mom is no longer able to celebrate the holiday with her. For years they’d gather the day before Thanksgiving to combine the bread and the meat and the spices and, yes, the boiled chicken hearts and gizzards, and create a staple of their holiday meal.

It was more than just making stuffing. It was a bond between mother and daughter forged in the ritual of perpetuating a very important tradition.

Beautiful.

Yet, now bittersweet.

Sometimes the holidays can be quite painful. T’is not always the season to be jolly. Loss and emptiness can be excruciatingly magnified at a time of expected joy and glee. We’ve all experienced our own form of hurt, longing for what once was, longing for what never was, now seasonally contrasted against the backdrop of all things shiny and bright.

I think back to some of the more traumatic events in my life, wounds annually reopening as I balance my own levels of bitter and sweet this time of year. I think of friends and their childhood traumas and how their inner pain silently crushes their holiday spirit, no matter how much they may be smiling on the Continue reading “Turkeys, Trees, and The Tradition Of Pain”