I doodled a smiley face on the breakfast tracker sheet half an hour before life gave me a reason to google the biological processes of death. I wanted to know how long he’d been there like that before I found him. I’m now in a vicious staring contest with grief; the pulsing risk of my vocation, more of a guarantee than a risk, really.

Sometimes our uncomfortable feelings are not entirely the fallout of a trauma trigger, but righteous anger caused by injustice.

I ache for something unknown, and now, with this kind community member’s recognition, the ache calls for acknowledgement: In the hustle of parenting and education/career development to whiteknuckle my fiercely beloved small posse out of poverty and the exhausting complications of multifaceted trauma recovery that accompanied, an entire section of my heart/spirit has been mostly unacknowledged.

When the panic attacks started, I felt betrayed by my almost 40 yr old body for remembering so vividly how panicked my 20 yr old body felt.

This might seem odd to you, but it makes sense to me.

All the right spices for a maddening depression. Restorative however, is my belief that God redeems; makes Holy what was Horrible.

Today's wildflower is reclamation; the sacred work of detaching from harmful energies through realignment with our soul & purpose.