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Sunrise & Etcha-A-Sketch

I love Sunrises. OK, maybe I’m slightly obsessed…. maybe I post sunrises on Facebook most every day… but doesn’t everyone? No? Ok… anyway…

 

I love new beginnings, like New Year’s. Do you have a New Year’s bucket list dream?
I do….

 

The Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach. I’m wearing the couture gown of my dreams. Arriving in a stretch limo (black) to the beautiful hotel entrance, the valet opens my door and my long lean toned leg with an amazing shoe exits first… then my right arm reaches for assistance as I bloom from the car and breathe in the moment. My husband takes the valet’s place on my right and whispers how beautiful I am as we casually make our way inside.

 

End of fantasy… I never got further than that in my dreams. Still, I like to think the party was AH-MAE-ZING…

 

I love Sunrises, New Years, Mulligans, do overs and the childhood toy called – the “Etch-A-Sketch” … you know that square box you draw designs on with two round dials… and if you make a mistake…you just shake it and VIOLA! Clean slate. Ohhhhh I love that idea! A fresh start… new beginning.

 

For me this epitomizes HOPE. We can start over once a year at the stoke of midnight, or the break of dawn, or after a messed up sketch or a full moon or the moment you wake up or…

 

Whenever you damn well please. YOU. CAN. START. OVER. YOU. CAN. BEGIN. AGAIN. Whenever you want, however many times you want.

 

Isn’t that FABULOUS?

 

I have had countless sick and disgusting things done to me. I was abused, raped, trafficking. I have also done illegal and immoral things to others.  

 

If I had to carry these traumas like a stone in an invisible back pack, a hobo sack thrown over my shoulder… I would surely be crushed to death by the weight of it.

 

Healing for me meant picking up each rock and giving that wound space. Space to be heard. To be felt. To be acknowledged, validated, considered, forgiven and assimilated (not dissected, rejected, disowned) … into the wholeness of the capital M… ME.  The memories, the shame, the fractured personalities… all of it. All of me.

 

What I run from chases me. What I chase runs. What I fear paralyzes me. What I hide in the dark decays…

 

Freedom comes when I turn up the light to shine on my darkest corners… the darkest parts of myself. The places I feel the most shame, vulnerable, small, insignificant… all the places I don’t want anyone to see or  know about. That which I own… where I turn up the light… this is where I find freedom and personal power… what my shame would fester in the dark, catches fire in the light and I rise like the phoenix …

 

There is this wonderful thing that comes from experience… wisdom. Wisdom to trust the process. Wisdom to trust that life is happening FOR me not TO me. Wisdom to know that other people’s projections and opinions are about them, not me. Wisdom to believe that if it all goes wrong…

 

I can start over again… tomorrow morning at sunrise…

 

Or… Right this second. Wow life is so good.

 

With Love, Catherine 

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