cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Sound Trauma Therapy: As in other forms of somatic psychotherapy that attend to the psyche (mind) and soma (body), sound healing sends sound vibrations into the body to target areas of pain, stress, and tension, or trauma. I throw another Epsom salt square into the filling bathtub. She told me to bathe in good salt…
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Our wedding anniversary came and went. Although my husband and I love each other very much, I felt empty, cold, and distant. We are attempting to conquer the dark places in our story, rewrite the narrative, and break out of past bondage; however, on our anniversary, I longed to barricade myself away from feeling or thinking.…
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Like the air, dreams are thick. “Where do they come from?” Slowly moving through stories. Stories electrify my body and paralyze me, strung together much like an addict strings up a row of sober days and calls it enough. These are my sober days. I feel the buzz in my head grow louder, the words…
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Who am I, and which part of me is real? It happens in the flick of a switch. The war within me between the “best version” and the “far-from-the-mark” mother. It doesn’t take much for this duality to be activated as pieces of my own story are stirred up. Both have a significant impact on…
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For my son’s high school senior retreat, we were asked to write him letters that he could open during a period of reflection and meditation. The theme was “Where do you come from?” We were encouraged to tell stories about grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. My throat tightened in an all too familiar feeling. My German great-grandfather…
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“I’m dying. I don’t know how to do this!” Laying on the bed in the dark, these words played over and over in my mind. I had felt a little off for some time, but there was nothing I could put my finger on. My family urged me to go to the doctor, but what…
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Weeks before the collective pandemic upheaval in March 2020, I found myself stepping off the Seattle-to-Bainbridge Island ferry. I am carrying a backpack chock-full of books. Some of the books are mine; others are not. Books are friends, holding words I want to remember. Piles of them are stacked in both my home and therapy…
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“Where do your boys think you are right now?” my counselor asks. I am surprised by her question, which seems out of left field. “I told them I had an appointment,” I reply. It’s vague, I’ll admit, but it’s not a lie. “What would happen if you told them the truth?” she asks, interrupting the…
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The computer keyboard looked alive, warped and waving as my eyes roamed over the keys. They were everywhere. Ants crawling in and out of the space between the letters and numbers, piling over each other to get to…Where were they going? Wait, where were they coming from? I searched frantically around the desk, my heart…
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*The following is posted in honor of National Slavery and Human Trafficking Prevention Month. This post includes words that may be triggering for some trauma survivors. What comes to your mind when you see a woman standing on a corner alone, under the glow of a street lamp? Close your eyes for a moment.
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