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The Bliss Blog

The Bliss Blog

Facing Life: A Ten Week Journey- Week Eight

Entering the office of Debra/Deva Troy   today in order to experience the modality called Facial Reflex Therapy created by Lone Sorensen, I already had a clear idea of what I wanted to work on. Although the hands-on aspect of the treatment is designed to work the systems in the body, they are also entering into the realm of the mind and emotions. One thing I had noticed over the past eight weeks since beginning the process, was that my feelings, which I had kept tamped down for awhile, had begun to re-surface. The impact of hormones, I wonder? I have no problems feeling and exuding a sense of joy, wonder, excitement and love. Sadness and anxiety had not felt like my friends for quite awhile and I knew that they were a necessary aspect of the entirety of my being. After having watched the Disney/Pixar movie called Inside Out,  I was even more certain that I needed to let flow whatever I had been holding back.

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A few days ago, I had awoken with a feeling of anxiety over how wonderfully my life was unfolding. Silly, huh?  I took note that I was calling in multitudes of writing and speaking opportunities. All that I had seed planted for was coming to fruition in beautiful ways. So, why the trepidation?  Fear that it would all fall apart. Fear that I wasn’t up to the task. Imposter syndrome had kicked in and was taunting me that I would be found out to be a fraud. None of them pleasant thoughts. Through the help of insightful friends, I had come to recognize the illusion of those beliefs, that God had created in me, the spark of desire and the gift of the ability around these areas. I was reminded that I had earned all of these opportunities and I needed to just relax and breathe into them. Those things I can do

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Deva and I also spoke about claiming our abilities and using them in service to the world AND getting well compensated for them. Nothing mutually exclusive about them.

Then in the wee hours of this morning, I awoke from a disturbing dream. I was sitting in my car when this little girl, with blond hair parted in the middle, looking more like a wig than her natural hair, approached slowly. There was no expression on her face. Her eyes were round and the pupils were dilated black circles. I sensed that she wanted to get into the car and in slow motion, I locked the doors which kept her out. I had the feeling that she was ‘soul-less’ and wanted to suck mine out of me to replace what she had lost. Having learned about the nature of characters in dreams, I know that she is an aspect of me. What part, I ponder, feels like an empty shell, not able to see what is front of me, needing to find a host for its parasitic needs? The other thing I wondered was whether she was part of a recurring dream theme or if I had done several instant replays in this one so that it felt like she kept showing up. Either way, I need to have a chat with her and find out what she wants me to know, so she can be at peace as well.

On the table, once again, I found myself in deep relaxation mode, determined not to nod off. My resolve was tested, as I work myself up snoring.  As always, I left rested and refreshed, ready to be facing life however it presents itself, with all of my full flung feelings.

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Why Do We Write What We Do?

A come clean. When recently reading an artist friend’s post about not being responsible for how her art is viewed or perceived, it occurred to me that often I write with the intention of evoking certain responses in the reader. Like all journalists, I have strong opinions about mostly everything. Love, relationships, spirituality, politics, world events, human behavior, the whys and wherefores of the world fascinate me. I love to wax poetic and philosophical about all of those topics. There are times when I want to go full bore when I read or hear about cruelty and destruction, with a righteous ‘How dare they ….?” That is so whether it is about a ‘protected’ lion murdered by someone who was trained to be a healer and admits enjoyment of  bloodshed , or the numbers of children who are abused on a daily basis, by those who are expected to love them.

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Social media is rife with opportunities to get my stomach churning. Violent videos, Fox News spewing lies or half truths in the form of click bait, people glorifying behaviors that cause harm to themselves others, bigotry, homophobia, war mongering … all of these are writing prompts. Some I follow up on, while others I let be. Even those that demand my attention, call out for restraint. Good thing I have filters. If something stirs up a visceral reaction, rather than a well considered response, then I know I need to take pause and run my thoughts through them, lest I release a firestorm of pushback.

There have been times when on my Facebook page, people have expressed vastly differing opinions from my own and have been confrontational. I have to decide how to address them. Interestingly, friends have responded on my behalf, assuming always that my intentions are good. Am I judgmental? Sometimes. Do I wish people would see the world as I do? Yup. And then I consider that reality is an individual concept. We each see the world through the lenses of our experiences and the decisions we make as a result.  If I had lived the lives that those who disagree with me, have experienced, then I too might feel as they do and I too might take the same actions. Hard to accept that I am capable of engaging in behaviors I abhor. Even as I am writing, I continue to strip away my resistance to having a full range of feelings about every decision people make.

What if I just wrote what I felt and let the chips fall where they may? Unless I do that, I am stifling The Muse, who feeds my soul. I will still use discretion, keep the filters operational and speak my truth at the same time.

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Pleasurable and Effortless

For much of my life, I have resisted struggling. I know that sounds weird, since on some level, resistance IS struggle. Efforting. Pushing against what is, rather than accepting it. I have often denied that some things are just plain difficult, because I haven’t wanted to admit that sometimes I need help. Never liked to feel vulnerable and am learning that sometimes it is necessary.

I have been calling into my life, the opportunities I have wanted in terms of writing and speaking. There are times when I bump up against impatience and pout petulantly that things aren’t happening fast enough for my liking. I then recall where I was a year ago and two years ago and a decade ago and realize how far I really have traveled to get from there to here.

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Today, I attended, via phone, a rehearsal for GMP (Good Men Project)  Live that is a story telling event in which I will be participating next week in New York City. Here I was in my suburban Philly home and through the marvels of modern technology ‘sat’ with the other participants as we practiced telling our tales. I am both excited and nervous about sharing the story called Meet You at the Gate,  since it is about my parents who I treasure and miss. In the midst of counting the years since they have passed; seven for my dad and almost five for my mom, not a day goes by that I don’t think about them. Sometimes they pop into my mind several times in 24 hours. There isn’t an aching longing for their physical presence, but rather a wistfulness. I sense that I have indeed gotten accustomed to living without them.

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Other potential struggles have to do with keeping up with the myriad deadlines I face. It’s not that I can’t keep pace with them; rather it is thinking about thinking that I can’t meet the requirements people have of me. THAT is one the most annoying truths I know. The monkey mind on a hamster wheel keeps on spinning.

Much of my life these days truly feels like I am in the flow. People, experiences, money, messages and creative opportunities arise as if they whisked into my world and all I need do is stand there and let them in. Isn’t that how it oughta be?

I welcome life being pleasurable and effortless.

 

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Facing Life-A Ten Week Journey- Week Seven

I entered into the seventh week of treatment with Debra/Deva Troy  in the modality called Facial Reflex Therapy designed by Lone Sorensen . She has found that when applied, it has assisted with balancing the various biological systems and stimulate the body’s natural healing process.

In my case, I have indeed noticed shifts in my ability to sleep, which has been essential in enhancing my quality of life. For many years, I have had difficulty remaining asleep once I had drifted off. It could be a component of aging, combined with run amok creative thoughts. Some people stay awake and worry. I have been known to stay awake and write.  In the past week, my sleep has been sounder and I have awakened feeling more rested and refreshed.

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Another thing I have noticed is that my hormones still feel as if they are doing a bit of an improv dance, with steps and turns that are totally unstructured as they moved to the beat of their own drummer. Sweats and power surges have been daily occurrences.

As someone with a cardiac condition, we are taking special care with cooling the inflammation in my heart/circulation and offering support for my pulmonary system. Childhood asthma had impacted on my lungs in a manner that had me receiving medication, including steroids around the ages of 4-6 and then in my tweens-teens, I strengthened them with swimming. These days, cardio a few days a week helps to keep them flexible.

One of my emotional issues is still feeling the compulsion to fix, heal and help people in need … savior behavior is how I refer to it. If I am not being of service, I feel as if I am not earning my keep. Sometimes it goes to an extreme and I need to find balance there as well. Deva and I discussed how that was related to the pancreas and she did some work in the area of my face that connects to that particular organ.

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I also noticed a tingling in my arms and hands as if they too had fallen asleep. As much as I wanted to remain conscious during the process, so I could recall what transpired, I found myself nodding off which is an additional benefit. By the time the session was complete, I felt ready to take a walk around town to expand those lungs and pump that blood through my healing heart.

Previous Posts

Facing Life: A Ten Week Journey- Week Eight
Entering the office of Debra/Deva Troy   today in order to experience the modality called Facial Reflex Therapy created by Lone Sorensen, I already had a clear idea of what I wanted to work on. Although the hands-on aspect of the treatment ...

posted 8:23:32pm Aug. 03, 2015 | read full post »

Why Do We Write What We Do?
A come clean. When recently reading an artist friend's post about not being responsible for how her art is viewed or perceived, it occurred to me that often I write with the intention of evoking certain responses in the reader. Like all ...

posted 11:07:57am Aug. 01, 2015 | read full post »

Pleasurable and Effortless
For much of my life, I have resisted struggling. I know that sounds weird, since on some level, resistance IS struggle. Efforting. Pushing against what is, rather than accepting it. I have often denied that some things are just plain difficult, ...

posted 9:37:02pm Jul. 29, 2015 | read full post »

Facing Life-A Ten Week Journey- Week Seven
I entered into the seventh week of treatment with Debra/Deva Troy  in the modality called Facial Reflex Therapy designed by Lone Sorensen . She has found that when applied, it has assisted with balancing the various biological systems and ...

posted 10:39:19pm Jul. 28, 2015 | read full post »

To Those We Treasure
Awake, truly awake and well rested after a weekend that was filled with laughter and joy, music, friends, dancing, singing, healthy eating and a power nap at the end of a long, sun streaming down day. On Friday night, so began one of my ...

posted 5:16:22pm Jul. 27, 2015 | read full post »

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