Today I am thankful for the lessons my patients teach me.
I apologize for not writing over the past few weeks. I've been overwhelmingly busy between the two jobs and school.
Even my beloved business is falling to the way side.
I had a guy from high school warn me that I was at risk of becoming "dull" - as he put it - 'all work and no play make Jill a dull girl."
There is a lot I can say about turning 50. I meant to go bass guitar shopping but I wound up at a used record/book store from my youth. I bought a bunch of occult books and pissed off the leftist cashier who bemoaned the Hobby Lobby and Chick Fil-A who have moved into the shopping center.
I guess he thought I was a demoncrat due to the books I bought. I don't remember everything I told the socialist - but I may not be welcome in that store again.
The books I found were worth hundreds of dollars. I picked up five of them for $63. I'll probably keep them to explore. There is a reason for my interest. Carl Jung was into occultism. The readings can help me understand his theories in a greater depth.
Nope, I didn't find a bass I wanted. I have a friend who is scouting the stores for me - I just wish he'd stop trying to get me to buy a cheap Squire bass. There is a $700 blue Steinberger that sounds nice. I can't buy it because I have to spend $5500 to go to court to get my ex to help with health insurance for the girls.
My old Peavey is selling for over $800 now. The store wanted to trade it for the Steinberger.
It's not going to happen.
I'm realizing that I'm not being myself. When I don't do the things I love (e.g. draw and play music), I lose the experience of synchronicity. Without the magick of synchronicity, my life sucks.
I'm also finding that, just as my hypnosis clients tended to be musicians, most of my addiction clients are musicians, too.
My tribe is finding me. I need to stop pretending to be someone I'm not just to be seen as a professional therapist.
People can spot fake a mile away. I may as well be more real.
This is the first lesson I've gleaned working with people in recovery - be authentic.
*****
There are so many other things I can write about: Political bullshit, Colorado wanting to be rid of TABOR while tax dollars go to helping abusive men to legally bully their former wives, Aurora cops refusing to take police reports for property damage from people trying to break into houses (yep, it's happening to my neighbors now) and putting together a stalking resource guide (which I've been working on but have to publish).
There is so much to say and so little time.
I had a dream that is causing me to write.
*****
I am having visions of three bodies being pulled from the mud. I'm wondering if this is in Latin America as I'm seeing the rescuers riding donkeys.
I don't know anything about the sport which requires trekking in the mud.
I know even less about the cultures in which burros are popular.
I only know that I have met ONE man who does that for sport.
I'll put the warning out into the universe.
The last time I had dreams which warned me of a broken leg, it took six years for them to come to pass.
Forewarned is forearmed.
I just don't know what hikers do to protect themselves during mudslides. If I can figure out what equipment will help, I'll send a Birthday/Christmas gift.
Love ya,
S.
I apologize for not writing over the past few weeks. I've been overwhelmingly busy between the two jobs and school.
Even my beloved business is falling to the way side.
I had a guy from high school warn me that I was at risk of becoming "dull" - as he put it - 'all work and no play make Jill a dull girl."
There is a lot I can say about turning 50. I meant to go bass guitar shopping but I wound up at a used record/book store from my youth. I bought a bunch of occult books and pissed off the leftist cashier who bemoaned the Hobby Lobby and Chick Fil-A who have moved into the shopping center.
I guess he thought I was a demoncrat due to the books I bought. I don't remember everything I told the socialist - but I may not be welcome in that store again.
The books I found were worth hundreds of dollars. I picked up five of them for $63. I'll probably keep them to explore. There is a reason for my interest. Carl Jung was into occultism. The readings can help me understand his theories in a greater depth.
Nope, I didn't find a bass I wanted. I have a friend who is scouting the stores for me - I just wish he'd stop trying to get me to buy a cheap Squire bass. There is a $700 blue Steinberger that sounds nice. I can't buy it because I have to spend $5500 to go to court to get my ex to help with health insurance for the girls.
My old Peavey is selling for over $800 now. The store wanted to trade it for the Steinberger.
It's not going to happen.
I'm realizing that I'm not being myself. When I don't do the things I love (e.g. draw and play music), I lose the experience of synchronicity. Without the magick of synchronicity, my life sucks.
I'm also finding that, just as my hypnosis clients tended to be musicians, most of my addiction clients are musicians, too.
My tribe is finding me. I need to stop pretending to be someone I'm not just to be seen as a professional therapist.
People can spot fake a mile away. I may as well be more real.
This is the first lesson I've gleaned working with people in recovery - be authentic.
*****
There are so many other things I can write about: Political bullshit, Colorado wanting to be rid of TABOR while tax dollars go to helping abusive men to legally bully their former wives, Aurora cops refusing to take police reports for property damage from people trying to break into houses (yep, it's happening to my neighbors now) and putting together a stalking resource guide (which I've been working on but have to publish).
There is so much to say and so little time.
I had a dream that is causing me to write.
*****
I am having visions of three bodies being pulled from the mud. I'm wondering if this is in Latin America as I'm seeing the rescuers riding donkeys.
I don't know anything about the sport which requires trekking in the mud.
I know even less about the cultures in which burros are popular.
I only know that I have met ONE man who does that for sport.
I'll put the warning out into the universe.
The last time I had dreams which warned me of a broken leg, it took six years for them to come to pass.
Forewarned is forearmed.
I just don't know what hikers do to protect themselves during mudslides. If I can figure out what equipment will help, I'll send a Birthday/Christmas gift.
Love ya,
S.