I Was So Happy

I was at the coffeeshop recently and something wonderful happened… I was so happy. I was sitting at a table, reading a book, listening to some great music, and drinking my coffee. I thought about it and felt so happy.

Then I started to tear up. It’s happened three more times since then, over other things that make me happy.

Recently I had bought some hot chocolate mix for colder weather and was thinking about that and then happiness and then tears.

I put on a cd of the Cambridge Singers, Christmas music, I really think I should have them on my bliss list. This stuff usually gets me happy every time.

I was looking at the beautiful face of doggie and felt so full of happiness and love. She really is such a black beauty. It was an overwhelming feeling and then came the tears.

I guess I’m on a happiness jag. I think I could get used to having a calm life with happy things in it.

Connectedness to My Healing Path

About ten years ago I started to realize that I would need to work on healing the rest of my life. I remember how that felt. I felt okay with that, really good, in fact. It seemed to sit well with my mind, my heart, my system, and my soul. I was totally able to understand why that would be necessary and where I had come from and where I wanted to go with my life, inner and outer.

So I decided to spend the rest of my life dedicated to living my life on a healing path. I am happy to do so. I am proud to do so.

I am strongly connected to my healing path.

Connectedness to the Boy

There once was a boy. I knew him a long time ago. We knew each other in school, until I was sixteen, and then again I saw him once at age eighteen. He was lovely. Just exactly the kind of boy I thought a boy should be. I loved him then. I love him still.

Something odd happened recently when I stared at his photo in a yearbook I had gotten ahold of. Seeing the photo was fine; he looked as I remembered him. I still miss him, still think of him, and seeing his photo made me miss him even more.

 A huge revelation came over me though. And oh my god. I realized that the guy I was attracted to last year and had recently friended on facebook shared some physical similarities with him. He might very well have some of the same personality characteristics, but that was not much obvious when we met last summer. I don’t think he does. I think the attraction was because he reminded me of the boy.

I was thinking this was a huge revelation for me. Which is hilarious, compared to what I realized later. I realized that the guy I had dated and been involved with for about 2-and-a-half years shared some physical characteristics as well, lacking completely in any of the boy’s good qualities and characteristics.

Here is the other big thing. I have always found really dark haired guys much more attractive than any other guys. And always wondered why I ended up being drawn to guys who weren’t. I see it now. I was being drawn subconsciously to guys who looked like him. But none of them had his good qualities and characteristics. None of them were him. None of them even came close.

When I started working on my 18 wishes for what I wanted in my life, he was there. I see that almost all the qualities I put into my wish for a beloved is him, with just a few additions.

Now I have to figure out what to do with this. Because I refuse to date another crappy simulacrum.

Connectedness to My Shadow Self

The shadow self is a psychological concept of what happens to a child due to social pressure and social control by parents and others to deny and repress their “socially” unacceptable emotions and thoughts, like anger, guilt, shame. Our concept of self gets built up bit by bit through this process.

Our concept of self that we cannot accept becomes the shadow self. These disowned parts of ourselves, though now a part of our unconscious, are still powerful and energetic in our lives. They effect our life choices, our interactions and communications with others, our body language, and our body’s energy that we communicate to others.

Abuse teaches us to blame ourselves; to repudiate our smallness and vulnerabilities, our needs and our need for love and protection. Abuse teaches us to think little of ourselves, causes us to believe in the lies abusers tell us about ourselves, and puts the guilt and shame of the abuser and their own unresolved and denied shadow selves onto their victims.

I believe that survivors retain such a harsh opinion of self because they are not so divided from their shadow self. Though not accepting of it either. It is a lot to accept and is very much overwhelming, like a tsunami.

We can end up judging others harshly for the same traits or characterists we have been made to disown and repress about ourselves.

I remember when a therapist first taught me about this. It was difficult at first to learn to notice those parts of myself that I was forced to disown and deny just in order to survive. With the abuse it was a huge amount of self that had to live under the surface, invisible, unaccepted, and unloved.

It was a lot like the process I went through to learn my multiple system, to accept and love them, though a lot easier, probably because I had already done so much harder work when working on accepting and healing our system.

Learning how to slowly pay attention to what I had been forced to deny and repress and to instead accept repressed thoughts and emotions was a healing, powerful, and tranformative process. Just acceptance was a hugely healing act. 

Today I am reminding myself that all of my feelings and thoughts are acceptable and that I am truly connected to all of them. I am reminding myself that I accept and am connected to my conscious and unconscious mind.

Connectedness to My Ancestral Line

I have a deep sense that I am very connected to my ancestral line. Not to my parents, but through them to those who came before them. And to those who have been born after me as well. I suppose one of the reasons that this feels so deep is because I needed that connectedness to them to serve in place of my parents.

At one time I thought that perhaps the sense of connectness I felt was not as strong as I thought it was. I thought that perhaps it was something I imagined in order to get me through some hard times. I  had doubted my strong connectedness to my hometown as well.

Now I realize that both connections are very real and not at all imagined. They both bring me so much meaning and connectedness to my life. My parents were never an anchor for me to this world. I am thankful for my connectedness to my ancestors and to my homeland. They are very sustaining and healing.

Connectedness to My Spirit Guides

I’ve written about my spirit guides before on the blog. They mean a great deal to me.  

I remember being four years old and seeing and talking to my guardian angel. I still see him. I still talk to him. His image of me as a loveable person of worth still touches my heart and challenges me to come to place where I can fully believe him. Being loved by an angel, to me, is a powerful thing.

My teacher guide has taught me so much about Reiki, energy, and healing; which has been particularly important to me, because I don’t have a lot of regular contact with Reiki people that I can learn from. He loves me and that means so much to me. He teaches me so much. He reminds me to focus on healing. He is there all the way through my healing path. He has had a powerful influence on my life and my healing.

My animal guides give me so much wisdom, acceptance, and respect. I have a strong connectedness to animals through nature. So having animal guides feels very natural to me. My animal guides are so powerful in my life. One of my animal guides is guiding me in cleansing exercises of the emotional aftereffects of child sexual abuse. We swim in the ocean, though I live in the middle of the country. It is an incredible healing journey.

Connectedness to Silliness

I tend to be silly when I am happy. It makes me happier. I tend to make a lot of jokes and tend towards silliness. We like silliness. It makes me smile and it gets me the outlook on life that I like to have and like the most.

For about a year I was not able to do that much. I realize now that I wasn’t safe and so I couldn’t be silly. Who would have thought that safe and functional people were pre-requisites for me to be silly?

I had trusted people who were not trustworthy. I was living in places with people who I could not be silly with. They took offense easily and so avoiding them worked best. They were dysfunctional and abusive and so I couldn’t be silly around those kinds of people. I wasn’t safe and couldn’t work on healing much, but I also couldn’t work on being real, being myself, being silly.

Now I can. And silliness is making me happier and happier with myself. I feel very connected to my silliness. 🙂