What happens when we open only to have hope and then find it was false hope? Do we stop hoping or is it a maturing process, and what then too, of faith?
I was going to post something on Australian singer Helen Reddy who died a short while ago yesterday, I may post it after this but listening to the music show on radio a little while ago I heard her speaking about the need to have ‘faith in ourselves’ and it struck me as how sad it is when we don’t get a solid foundation built up within us to have that inner faith in our feelings, needs and perceptions nor stay connected to our deeper intuition.
Last night I listened to a sleep meditation on feeling safe, it inspired a post I posted before lunch.. Listening to it I deeply recognised how unsafe I felt in the world and how unsafe my body feels having been cut into and smashed about so much. I recognised I don’t feel safe to open up at times, I fear people cutting me off. I fear if I say too much or express true powerful feelings I will be rejected and yet each day I post a post here or ignore the voice that tells me I won’t be safe to share something on my blog I usually do not regret it..
At times the critic tells me my blog is all over the place, other people’s poetry is far better (true a lot of the time but not always) Today the critic was telling me to shut my blog down, for what have I got to say that is of any use? That said I know we all share here as an outlet and to find what helps in trauma and recovery and I am continually grateful for confirmation from others that similar tools work for them too.
Having faith in myself has not been easy… I had faith in someone and they let me down. Recently with my inheritance struggles I don’t know who to turn to any more or who to put my faith in.. Calls to the accountant seem to be achieving nothing.. Everything I have tried with my brother to get help, my pleas seem to fall on deaf ears or end up making him angry. My sister is in a collapsed state and no condition to fight, at times it burns me and I just feel helpless. I spoke to an old friend of the family yesterday who knows my brother well and she said to me “Deb he is an innovator and an artist (architect) he isn’t that great with financial issues” that had not occurred to me as I had seen that he and his son have run a high profile design and construction company for years and sadly my Mum chose to make him executor.
Lately I am trying to put my hope in my own efforts and I just keep my life as simple and meaningful as I can. I am also trying not to leap to disaster thinking as far as putting a very lovely house on the market I have now lived in for over 9 years and have put so much of my energy into. Early in the morning voices try to tear everything apart and I have noticed I am not thinking that realistically before getting myself up and eating, getting showered or bathed and dressed. My thinking changes when I get into the body that on waking is often a ‘storm’ of trauma symptoms and push through the freeze and paralysis. I have noticed though that these symptoms they are abating, not half as bad around lunch times as they used to be.
Hope and faith, are two energies that when absent make life feel very dreadful, but also two precious gifts that can so often be shattered or destroyed by painful, abusive or damaging past experiences.
Emerging From The Dark Night 