I Am In Big Trouble. Help me

MountainOfFullMoons BLOGIma did not say a word about my finishing all my chores, but at least she was not mean. I guess if I want to not be in trouble, I always have to do it all. It is not like I did not know that, but I think my anger at Ima for her meanness made me angry. I think I just taught myself a lesson.

But that is not all that is going on. Did I tell you about Sandalphon? I do not think I did. He comes to me like a cloud and talks to me, tells me about life and doing a better job. I talk to him and the other day I got caught by some kids. They went home and told their parents I was talking to the air. The parents went to the Elder Council and told them and know I am in big trouble. This is not the first time this happened, but now I am older, almost thirteen seasons of growth and the whole village is talking about how to punish me.

They do not understand that he is a helper and they think I am crazy. The kids threw rocks at me yesterday. I have bruises all over my arms that I hid them from Ima. I have no say in what the council decides. Women are not allowed to attend the meetings. The council could decide to hurt me or send me out into the wilderness,IMG_0513 - Copy never to come back.

I do not believe in God but I am asking you to pray for me.

Speak if Spoken To

MountainOfFullMoons BLOGIt seems to me that I’ve been alone all my life. Even when I was surrounded by people I was alone. It was a feeling, I know that. But I also know it interfered with my life. It was not that I didn’t want to or didn’t have anything to say, but there was a strong tendency to hold back.

I don’t remember going to anyone’s house where I could play with someone or playing with anyone at home, except the neighbor’s son, Ronald. But he was a boy and didn’t play with dolls or color.

I had a hard time being close. Not with everyone, but a lot of people. It was almost as if I didn’t know how or I was so used to not speaking, that it was natural. That sounds crazy, unnatural but I spent most of my childhood that way, being shut up, and I think it became ingrained.

Those who know me would tell you the opposite. I learned how through the years to take part in any conversation and if asked a personal question, to answer it. But in those years I didn’t offer very much, as if I was on guard.

My father and mother would tell you that I didn’t shut up. I told the principal in first grade that I talked too much because I had a lot to say. And I did have a lot to say. But I had a lot more that was kept inside. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t knowimage-2 how. In my house, it was not acceptable for a child to speak unless you were spoken to. Not that my house was quiet. My parents fought all the time didn’t care who heard them. I, on the other hand, was consulted only when I had to be – what time would I be home, what movie was I going to see, and the rest of the time was filled with orders. Do this, that, or the other thing.

They fought, I listened. I don’t know what they talked about in bed at night. They were on the other side of my wall. I could hear their voices but not what they said. Thinking about it now, I wonder if they ever talked about how they felt because they never asked me. Not even once. ‘How do you feel’ was reserved for the physical. They never asked about friends, if I had any, who they were, where they lived.

Occasionally they would ask about school, but only occasionally. One of the regular orders was, ‘Do your homework,’ after the dinner dishes were put away.
My parents were not exactly approachable, and I was left to my own devices to figure out my world, to maneuver and survive in it. From the very beginning, my world was either harsh-voiced or non-existent and I hated the yelling.

I Did It

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I really did. All my chores. And I did it without complaining. I even did it without being asked.

I think my ima was amazed though she did not say one word. Neither did my abba, but I think they were both happy and did not want to spoil the contentment.
I must admit that I am tired. It was a lot to do at one time. Now I understand better how Ima feels. She works all day. Whether it’s making thread from the wool, or taking care of the garden, cooking the meals, making clothes on the loom, or cutting wood when Abba is away.

How will I be able to do it all when I get married. If I ever get married or even work for someone else. It leaves no time to breathe, to have fun, to sing or play the harp. It is no wonder they are always exhausted and ask me to do things for them. I never thought about that before.

Will I ever play my harp again? It hurts my heart to know it is there right next to my sleep mat and I can not touch it – unless I want a beating. That’s Ima’s way of making me behave. I still do not understand why she is mean – whether it is my fault or is just because it is. It started when I was a child. 


Healthy Eating

Cannellini Beans and Spinach Salad With Mustard serves four

2 Tbsp. Dijon Mustard

3 tbsp. red wine vinegar

scant 1/2 cup olive oil

6 shallots, finely chopped

1 3/4 pounds canned cannellini beans drained and rinsed

2 tbsp. chopped thyme

2 tbsp. chopped parsley

5 1/3 cups chopped spinach

salt and pepper

Combine the mustard and vinegar in a bowl and set aside. Reserve 2 Tbsp. of olive oil and heat the remainder in a wide pan. Add the shallots and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally for 5 minutes, until softened and translucent. Stir in the Cannellini bean and add the mustard-flavored vinegar and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and add the thyme, parsley, and spinach. Cook, stirring continuously until the spinach has wilted. Remove from heat and serve immediately.



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I know I have been complaining a lot and I apologize. My guide says not to do that. But it’s the way I feel most of the time. He says that if I stop, my life and my outlook will change. That I will be able to do things I never thought of before.

I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what those things will be. But I can’t. They are not in the possibility of my thinking.

I tried before, but I must admit that I did not try with a full heart. I need to do better and really try. I know he is trying to help me but sometimes I think that it’s not possible. There I go complaining again. It just comes out of my mouth. It is so a part of me that I don’t know if it’s possible to stop.

My guide says I must. I should listen to him. He has been right about so many other things.

I will. It is no longer about trying. It is now about doing. Doing is now my keyword, the word that will take me forward.

Please help me by reminding me. I really want to do it.  Thanks



Did I Scare You?

It came to my attention that some people reading my posts are quite concerned about the effects of PTSD on me.

First, let me assure you that my ability to drive was never impaired. It was getting to where I wanted or needed to go.

Yes, my mind felt like it was stuck, my body got numb and I shook. It is also true the fear started before I left the house and sat in the car unable to figure out how to get to where I was going tough I drove it a thousand times. 

PTSD demands that you relive the trauma. You don’t know how to fix it. But life can go on – it takes longer to figure things out.

Remember that I was not in a war zone and it was a year and a half ago, so things have gotten much better. Once I drive somewhere, I can now remember how to do it again.

My concern in writing this was a sort of warning to others to be careful on the road. Mine was an incident concerning only me and the car. For others, it can be much worse. Be wary. An accident can mean a long time recovery from the trauma.




Too Tired To Go On.

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I am tired. Young and tired like an old bent-over woman. Life is hard and I don’t know if I want to go on. There is not one thing in my future that will bring happiness. It’s the same thing day after day. Will it change? When will I wake up and welcome the sun? 

Everyone works hard. But there are other families who smile and laugh. I don’t remember the last time I did. Is it me? Is something wrong with me? Is it a sickness?

I’m sorry. I don’t mean to go on and on, but I have no one to talk to but you. Can you help? Do you know what is wrong? I really do not want to be this way, be miserable all the time. I know I will go on but how long can I keep doing this?

It is too dangerous to leave my tribe and have no one. Out in the wilderness, it can be scary.  There are wild animals and bandits who rape, rob and kill. It is possible that I will not survive. And I have nowhere to go. No family or friends to welcome me. 

Can I figure out a way to feel better? I want to but do not know how.  All I can hope is that it will get better. I must do something, try to find a way to make it better. To laugh and play again like a child even though it can only live inside me. They do not have to know how I feel. I will try. I promise you I will try.


What Are the Three Principles?

I just saw this and loved it so am passing it along since it can no longer be retweeted.
One of the questions you somewhat predictably get when you’re involved with a field known as “the Three Principles” is “what are the Three Principles?” But the problem with the question is that it’s tempting to answer it with words – and words are woefully inadequate for the job. As the sage Lao Tzu said over 5000 years ago:

The Tao which can be spoken of is not the true Tao;

The name which can be named is not the eternal name.

But what then to do? Should we hold one finger in the air like the Zen master Joshu and say the word “Mu”, representing the infinite no-thingness of life? Or would it be better to answer the question by sending the seeker out into the woods to discover their own answers, encouraging them to find the wooden flute hidden inside the Bodhi tree?While words are often inadequate, they’re also kind of what we’ve got to work with. And though they may never help us truly “eff the ineffable”, they can act like ​steam on the invisible man, allowing us to see the outline of what’s really there even without being able to fully articulate what it really is.

You know that feeling of aliveness you sometimes get when you’re fully absorbed in a favorite activity or hanging out with some of your favorite people? Your eyes spark up and start to twinkle, and you’re filled with good feelings and an enthusiasm for life that may seem all out of proportion to what’s actually going on in the moment?

That feeling is an experienc


e of the principle of Mind – what the theosopher Syd Banks described as “the energy of all things, whether in form or formless.” That energy is always surrounding us and running through us, but it can get more or less obscured depending on how caught up we are with the content of our moment by moment thinking. It’s the electricity we feel when we connect deeply with another living thing – the animating force that separates the quick from the dead.

And you know how sometimes you just know things without knowing how you know them?

That’s the principle of  Mind in action. When something new occurs to you, it occurs via the deeper Mind. Or to put it another way, when you’re in a creative flow, what comes to mind comes from Mind.

I sometimes talk about the principle of Mind as the intelligence behind life, in the sense that it seems to act as a sort of an organizing principle, insuring that acorns become oak trees, planets and stars almost never bump into each other, and nearly every time you open your mouth to speak words come out, even if you had no idea what you were going to say before you said it (and even if you regret having said it a few moments later… 🙂

Have you ever wondered how it is that you can close your eyes and still know that the world hasn’t disappeared? And how in fact, sometimes when you turn your attention inwards the world feels even bigger than when you’re looking out into it?

That feeling of spaciousness is the principle of Consciousness – what Syd Banks described as that which “gives us the ability to realize the existence of life.” It’s the space of meditation – the sky within which the clouds of thought create the weather of feeling and the sunshine of the deeper Mind brings everything within it to life. It’s “the blue” out of which new ideas come and never before thought thoughts arise.

It’s consciousness that’s allowing you to read these words and make sense of them in your own mind. It’s that within you which notices that which is around you – the blank page that invites you to scribble all over it and brings those scribbles to life with the skill of a Hollywood special effects department.

And what makes up those scribbles?

The principle of Thought in action. Sometimes people attempt to dismiss an intense experience as “just a thought”, but that’s like saying a nuclear weapon is “just a bomb”. Thought – the creative force – is the most powerful scribbling pen in the universe. It lets us create heavenly, transcendent experiences when our circumstances are hell and can make us feel like hell even when we’re resting on a king-sized mattress in heaven.

Together, the principles of Mind, Consciousness, and Thought create our reality. And in order to learn how to make better use of them, we first have to glimpse the fact that we’re made up of them.

One of my more memorable teaching experiences came a few years back when I was working with a group of coaches in New York City and someone asked a question about “the limitations of the three principles as a model for coaching”. After letting the conversation run for a bit, I jumped in and pointed out that while any coaching model is inherently limited, the fundamental principles of Mind, Consciousness, and Thought are the very things that make our own creative power unlimited.

I got on a bit of a roll, as I am sometimes wont to do, and before I stepped back off my soapbox I completed my rant with a line that my then sixteen-year-old daughter immortalized by tweeting it out from the back of the room:

I have PTSD. Help

What was the outcome?  PTSD from a car incident where the only thing that got hurt was the car?


Many years ago it was called shell shock for men and hysteria for women. Can you imagine? Hysteria was the best they could come up with. How does it interfere with my life? PTSD is a lot more serious than I thought. It is now one and a half years since the car incident and is as bad now as it was then, maybe worse.

I don’t have flashbacks or relive what happened, I don’t want to, ever. I’m not in a combat situation, I want to go shopping. I have lived in this city in Florida for thirty years. I am an excellent driver as everyone but one son will tell you and know every shortcut there is. But my mind gets stuck, my body gets numb and I shake all over. The fear starts before I leave the house.

I sit in the car and the shakes before I put my foot on the gas pedal. Where am I going? How do I get there? I can’t think, can’t picture where I want to go though I’ve driven it a thousand times. My forehead is wet and it drips down my back. The PTSD is trying to make me relive it. I will stay in this car and not let it defeat me. But I’m twitching, trapped, don’t know how to fix it.


Why? I am in a brand new car, not the one in the incident. I know my way. I am out of control. I need to be at the dentist’s office in fifteen minutes. My armpits are wet. Will the dentist smell it? This is crazy. I should be able to get there. If I start moving will I know how to go? I am sure I can drive. I sit there waiting for it to pass. It doesn’t. Twenty minutes have gone by with my foot on the floor and I have not moved an inch. I want to scream but that won’t help. I will not allow those memories to come into my head and stop me.

I sit and wait, a picture crosses my brow. A picture of the building where the dentist is. I am still shaking but not as badly. I know how to get to my appointment now. I put my foot on the pedal and begin to move, slowly. I get down the block and am in control again. I will make it on time.

But PTSD doesn’t go away. What will happen tomorrow when I need to go somewhere else? Is this now the norm for me? Where can I find help? There is none to find.