Though unable to find a cure, the *healing* you describe is powerful and poetic. I've lived this and witnessed it many times as a nurse, yet it brings new awe each time.
I’m touched by your response, and how you’ve witnessed this other kind of healing as a nurse. What a profound experience, especially from within the medical field where the care administered might not directly translate to the expected outcome. I’m guessing that your presence and compassion have played a role in this kind of healing’s occurrence.
I guess we never really know. It’s one of those mysteries that we all share as humans. Sometimes we get a glimpse together. I’ve found connection and tenderness in honestly being with a person and not covering my own feelings—to let them know: I’m sad with you. It’s an honor to offer a hand to hold and whatever small comforts are available in the moment. Bodies are fragile and temporary. Spirits are enormous and forever.
Having read this chapter before ~ and your entire Unfixed memoir ~ I feel deeply moved all over again. The unanswered prayer you are describing I have experienced countless times in my work...
You are summing it up right here »to be in relationship to what is, and not what might be«
To come into relationship with what is ~ rather than chasing what might be, what we'd planned to be, how we had, in childlike innocence wished for life to turn out ~ that is the challenge, I believe. It's what I call 'unconditional acceptance'. This is usually counterintuitive. The word 'acceptance' is used so casually, as if it can be done in a moment (and sometimes it can). But often it's a process of several steps. That makes sense, BECAUSE it makes no sense to the current paradigm (as you describe here so well!).
That's the whole point. The healing journey is about leaving the shores of the old paradigm and sailing into a whole new world of being. It's a risky voyage, forcing us to navigate unknown challenges and dangers.
The sailing vessel in the stormy sea is the perfect image. I love the suggestion of picturing yourself sleeping on the bow of the ship. And your poem!
“Unconditional acceptance” is such a great way to put it… understanding that this is a process and lives outside of circumstances. Sometimes I use the word “allowing” instead of acceptance, it feels like it isn’t so time-bound and carries a bit more agency. Acceptance at times, and maybe because it’s so over used in our culture and self-help circles, feels like resignation.
This experience of coming into relationship with what is can be so profoundly transformative and is at the heart of your work too. I love how you’ve expanded on this process so others will be able to practice it with real, tangible tools.
Yes, you're right. I've spent a lot of time (years!) trying to get my head around what 'acceptance' really means. I've found that genuine unconditional acceptance (= not that different from love) is a gradual process. People often talk about it as if it is a decision you make, and then 'bang!' acception done.
That's not how it works in my experience. It's more like something we can nurture and grow into. I'm going to write more about that process in the next round.
“a deity shopping spree” - I love this phrase and feel the urgency of desire for change. Lovely and spare. I’m glad you have Dave for comfort and bearings.
It's funny... I read the title of this post and thought (smugly, unhelpfully, unproductively): There's no such thing as unanswered prayers; the answers are either 'yes' or 'no' or 'not yet.' The problem is when we don't get the answer we want. But that's smug and unhelpful and unproductive, and as a person who lives with an invisibly disabling condition along with chronic pain and weird neurological stuff, I recognize some of the neighborhood you've been slogging through. And if somebody had come up to me that that smug, unproductive BS when I was going through some of my worst days, I would have wanted to slap them.
Once I actually READ what you wrote, I realized that perhaps one of the answers to prayer is the Divine trying to attract our attention so that we can face a different way, drawing arrows in the sky and holding up signs that say "OVER HERE!!!" and jumping up and down to catch our attention. And all the while, we just keep trudging along and not looking up to even notice.
So here's to everyone who is unfixed--and maybe unfixable--and our prayers and the answers, no matter how long it takes us to find them. <3
Love your self-effacing and loving comment! What a fun peek into your thought process, and an insight into how often we lead with our own understanding before entering/joining another’s. I love how you describe your experience of unanswered prayers simply being our misinterpretations or blinders, time bound as they often are, until we are able to see and perceive from a new perspective.
And yes to a love epidemic. Love that in your substack tagline. 😉
Yes. It seems as long as we are in search of a “fix” we remain broken. Perhaps consider yourself as you are and accept and forgive reality for being what it is.
“Forgiving reality for what it is…”Oh what a wonderful, thought-provoking addition to acceptance David. And perhaps reality in turn forgiving us for thinking it ever should be any other way!
Oh how many wrong turns I’ve taken because I wanted/needed to understand or had a different agenda in mind! Unfathomable to my ego (even to this day) that surrender was all I needed to do. 💛
I am moved by this recounting. While I had a diagnosis people’s inability to understand what I was going through was mind boggling. Sometimes the injury is not visible on the outside. I continue to struggle with a brain injury that changed me forever and have to listen to people say I am the same. It is a lonely process. While our stories are different I understand the search under every rock.
I felt that loneliness too Sharon, thank you for sharing. Invisible disorders/illness can be so dispiriting. Dealing with the symptoms are challenging alone, but then juggling scrutiny and misunderstanding on top of it can make the experience feel very heavy at times. I think the key for me was realizing just how many of us are out there, in our own little corners, and when we find each other or hear voices of resonance, I could tap into that collective heart.
Kimberly, forgive me if you’ve already covered this, but will you be trying to get the whole memoir published? I’d really love to hold the whole thing in my hands one day. Your writing is luminous 🌟
Awww, thank you for saying this Amy! I’m unsure at this point, I hear so many horror stories about the publishing industry and am timid to embark down a path that may lead only to frustration and disappointment. I’m not opposed to trying, but after working with Dylan on his memoir and feeling so much resistance from the gatekeepers, I may opt to self-publish. That could be a satisfying option and I know some other respected writers over here are quite happy with that route. I’m open to suggestions though if you have any advice for this novice!
What you shared about the publishing experience of Dylan's memoir was the final nail in the coffin (of traditional publishing) for me!
I have published one book with a German self-publishing company called 'Tredition' 7 years ago. They are now offering their services to English language authors too. The company is called 'tredition', publishing quality is very good, distribution goes via all the usual channels, and costs are much lower than other self-publishing options. You might like to take a look. https://tredition.com/en/about-us/
It’s such a disheartening industry, from what I’ve learned, especially from some of the more experienced authors over here. Sounds like you’ve been experiencing that too with your most recent masterpiece? Your work is an essential and life-transforming contribution to humanity, I can’t fathom how publishers would pass you up. But I’m grateful there are now alternatives. I will check out your recommendation and let you know if I have any questions. Thank you!
masterpiece or not, I just have no idea how to get past the gatekeepers, and can't imagine myself getting drawn into the relentless game of post publishing booktours etc...
The answer is, I haven't even tried with this book. I believe it is time to take our power back as writers. And Tredition offers that opportunity (as a fair collaboration)
I’m even more of a novice at all this than you! But when people tell me I should write a book about what I’ve been through with long COVID, I think of how many published writers here on Substack have had trouble breaking into the book publishing world and that is a big turn off, I agree. I trust you’ll let us know if you decide to self-publish?
"As I study the acrylic likeness of my experience, my beloved atheist—still drawing from decades of Fundamentalist Baptist indoctrination—offers a parable about Christ at sea during a large squall. While disciples are physically sick from the swells and gripped with fear for their lives, Christ lies on the bow of the ship and sleeps."
EPIC, your depiction of Christ as He sleeps in the midst of the storm, for He knows that our days "Unfixed" are but temporary, as we dutifully trudge this side of heaven for His Joy set before us! This is not our home - this is our 'practice field.' The machinations you've been through with all types of false gods have ultimately lead you to Truth, and the Truth will set you free! Congratulations, you've passed the test on the practice field, and UNBELIEVABLE things lie ahead for you!
Thank you Bob, I find it fascinating (and comforting!) that my own spiritual path (and perhaps everyone’s) that perhaps don’t use the same words/texts as yours, still resonates… makes me want to believe that ultimately all of life is founded from and speaks with the same origins of love.
"...makes me want to believe that ultimately all of life is founded from and speaks with the same origins of love." And it does: "For God so loved THE WORLD (emphasis added) that he gave us His only Son that whoever believe in Him, shall have eternal life." As you say in your comment, all stems from "the same organs of love!"
Your essay speaks to me. I fell down a flight of stairs in 2000 and remain "unfixed," with chronic pain and no answers. I try to find acceptance and peace and Scriptures like the ones you shared help. Thank you for writing about your journey, Kimberly.
What a scary initiation into living unfixed Linda. I join you in the lean toward acceptance, a day by day practice, though it always seems to create a buoyancy around the suffering when I’m able. Thank you for connecting with me here, sending you much love.
I loved this: "His energy is heavy, sure, and undoubtedly marred by unprocessed trauma, but fathering a daughter with intellectual disability for twenty-one years has taught him to be in relationship to what is, and not what might be. Being next to him, I inch slowly—ever so slowly—closer to myself, as I am." To celebrate what is. To be at peace with who we are. Such wise words from an old soul. Your writing makes our hearts float on calm seas. I hope you feel better.
What a beautiful thing to say Jane. It's quite powerful to feel the possibility that sharing our individual stories may help create calm seas for another. So happy to have you here.
This chapter always wrecks me in the most beautiful way. A magnum opus of confrontation and acceptance. I am with Amy, whatever you decide with publishing…I would love to have a physical copy of your gorgeous story. One of the most beautifully moving memoirs I have EVER read, Kimberly. Whenever anyone asks me what my favorite memoirs are, yours is at the top of that list. I will always be so wildly grateful for your generosity in sharing your story.
Jenovia, you sure know how to make my heart feel like it’s adorned in glitter. Thank you for your gushing encouragement, it was such a surreal experience over the past year to share my story within such an intimate space. You and so many others have become like old friends, cherished in my heart for the rest of my days, and not without a longing for someday our paths to cross irl. ❤️
I’ve felt many times on my journey like I’ve had nothing left to give. Sometimes when we lean into caring, more than curing, our experience and our selves soften and become more malleable for life to move us in creative, nourishing, and unexpected ways. The curing, the healing, starts to happen of its own accord. It is such an achingly painful dance at times. I deeply honor your words and your experience here. 🙏🏻
What a great way to put it, caring vs. curing. Caring requires us to be present and to offer love to whatever shows up in the moment. Whereas, to me, curing is conditional and betting on the possibility of a “future” life/experience to care for. Thank you for this insight!
It's amazing to read your essay, words so fraught with longing frustration and sadness. And then hope unfixed. Years ago when we were struggling, my husband brought me home a painting of Jesus in the boat with his disciples (I think when we were on one of our near separations). Faith has always been the message, but he and I are knuckleheads. Then, a dear person, who I met on Ellis Island in 2014, with her severely handicapped son, came back into my life four years ago during a devastating estrangement and my dad's passing. She had two daughters who also walked out of her life and wouldn't let her see her grandchildren (our oldest son did this for 2.5 yrs). I realized then that God truly brought me who and what I needed. Her wisdom, and visuals blew my mind. The best one I carry with me is to "cocoon" into Christ's arms and rest there. It's a state of letting go. Pure rest.
Ironic, the parable (your body, the storm) that would pull your husband "back to the story," and not the brokenness of each other that often turns us away from church. That's the message without the worldly noise. Letting go and letting God is very freeing. It's big. I pray for your peace every day Kimberly. ox
Your understanding is always so beautifully articulated Deborah. From what you’ve shared in previous comments, it’s clear your heart has faced the depths of despair and loss and sought refuge in that cocoon of love. I admire your faith and the way it’s opened you to that letting go and absolute trust. That’s so beautiful. You call it God, I call it Love (with a capital L!), and I understand more than ever just how important it is for humans to have that refuge of unconditional trust when things fall apart. 💛
Kimberly- this same Bible passage has meant a good deal to my husband and me since I got sick. He even shared a reflection with our church on it, talking about how having Jesus asleep in your boat makes every storm bearable.
Oh how cool is that?! It’s such a powerful story, whether the “storm” is physical or emotional, to imagine ourselves at rest amidst chaos is such an important practice, holding the possibility for opposites to coexist.:)
Reading this beautiful chapter, I feel the way we got to peace is very similar. I too went to a psychic who terrified me and robbed me at my most vulnerable. Then I prayed a lot. And then I gave in to peace. Many many times though. The part of letting go and letting be is always a non-linear process. I do hope you feel at your most peaceful these days. Much love and many hugs!
How interesting to hear this. I think many of us give ourselves over to some of the more predatory healing routes when at our most desperate. We will do anything for relief and answers! Sending you so much love and hugs back. Hopefully someday in person. x
Oh yes. I feel especially sad when people who once were sick decide to take advantage of other sick people, knowing how difficult of an experience it is. I would be delighted to meet you someday in person! :-*
Though unable to find a cure, the *healing* you describe is powerful and poetic. I've lived this and witnessed it many times as a nurse, yet it brings new awe each time.
I’m touched by your response, and how you’ve witnessed this other kind of healing as a nurse. What a profound experience, especially from within the medical field where the care administered might not directly translate to the expected outcome. I’m guessing that your presence and compassion have played a role in this kind of healing’s occurrence.
I guess we never really know. It’s one of those mysteries that we all share as humans. Sometimes we get a glimpse together. I’ve found connection and tenderness in honestly being with a person and not covering my own feelings—to let them know: I’m sad with you. It’s an honor to offer a hand to hold and whatever small comforts are available in the moment. Bodies are fragile and temporary. Spirits are enormous and forever.
You are a big, generously beautiful human. 💛
Kimberly, thank you 💛
Having read this chapter before ~ and your entire Unfixed memoir ~ I feel deeply moved all over again. The unanswered prayer you are describing I have experienced countless times in my work...
You are summing it up right here »to be in relationship to what is, and not what might be«
To come into relationship with what is ~ rather than chasing what might be, what we'd planned to be, how we had, in childlike innocence wished for life to turn out ~ that is the challenge, I believe. It's what I call 'unconditional acceptance'. This is usually counterintuitive. The word 'acceptance' is used so casually, as if it can be done in a moment (and sometimes it can). But often it's a process of several steps. That makes sense, BECAUSE it makes no sense to the current paradigm (as you describe here so well!).
That's the whole point. The healing journey is about leaving the shores of the old paradigm and sailing into a whole new world of being. It's a risky voyage, forcing us to navigate unknown challenges and dangers.
The sailing vessel in the stormy sea is the perfect image. I love the suggestion of picturing yourself sleeping on the bow of the ship. And your poem!
"more demanding than giving
The exhale replies
for the lifetimes of resistance
and delivers grace unto both."
💗🙏
“Unconditional acceptance” is such a great way to put it… understanding that this is a process and lives outside of circumstances. Sometimes I use the word “allowing” instead of acceptance, it feels like it isn’t so time-bound and carries a bit more agency. Acceptance at times, and maybe because it’s so over used in our culture and self-help circles, feels like resignation.
This experience of coming into relationship with what is can be so profoundly transformative and is at the heart of your work too. I love how you’ve expanded on this process so others will be able to practice it with real, tangible tools.
Yes, you're right. I've spent a lot of time (years!) trying to get my head around what 'acceptance' really means. I've found that genuine unconditional acceptance (= not that different from love) is a gradual process. People often talk about it as if it is a decision you make, and then 'bang!' acception done.
That's not how it works in my experience. It's more like something we can nurture and grow into. I'm going to write more about that process in the next round.
Wonderful! I’m eager to read what your brilliant mind and heart have to say about it.
Same.
“a deity shopping spree” - I love this phrase and feel the urgency of desire for change. Lovely and spare. I’m glad you have Dave for comfort and bearings.
Thank you Tara. Certainly having a loving companion by my side makes “allowing” more accessible and friendly. 💛
It's funny... I read the title of this post and thought (smugly, unhelpfully, unproductively): There's no such thing as unanswered prayers; the answers are either 'yes' or 'no' or 'not yet.' The problem is when we don't get the answer we want. But that's smug and unhelpful and unproductive, and as a person who lives with an invisibly disabling condition along with chronic pain and weird neurological stuff, I recognize some of the neighborhood you've been slogging through. And if somebody had come up to me that that smug, unproductive BS when I was going through some of my worst days, I would have wanted to slap them.
Once I actually READ what you wrote, I realized that perhaps one of the answers to prayer is the Divine trying to attract our attention so that we can face a different way, drawing arrows in the sky and holding up signs that say "OVER HERE!!!" and jumping up and down to catch our attention. And all the while, we just keep trudging along and not looking up to even notice.
So here's to everyone who is unfixed--and maybe unfixable--and our prayers and the answers, no matter how long it takes us to find them. <3
Love your self-effacing and loving comment! What a fun peek into your thought process, and an insight into how often we lead with our own understanding before entering/joining another’s. I love how you describe your experience of unanswered prayers simply being our misinterpretations or blinders, time bound as they often are, until we are able to see and perceive from a new perspective.
And yes to a love epidemic. Love that in your substack tagline. 😉
Yes. It seems as long as we are in search of a “fix” we remain broken. Perhaps consider yourself as you are and accept and forgive reality for being what it is.
“Forgiving reality for what it is…”Oh what a wonderful, thought-provoking addition to acceptance David. And perhaps reality in turn forgiving us for thinking it ever should be any other way!
Yes, of course it goes both ways at the same time…
Yes David, that was how repaired my damage. The traces remain to serve as a reminder should I find the need again
A path taken seems to leave footprints
“peace that passeth understanding”
The faith you had in these words despite all evidence, were those that ultimately showed you the right path…
Thank goodness you were strong enough to weather a few wrong turns though ♥️xx
Oh how many wrong turns I’ve taken because I wanted/needed to understand or had a different agenda in mind! Unfathomable to my ego (even to this day) that surrender was all I needed to do. 💛
I am moved by this recounting. While I had a diagnosis people’s inability to understand what I was going through was mind boggling. Sometimes the injury is not visible on the outside. I continue to struggle with a brain injury that changed me forever and have to listen to people say I am the same. It is a lonely process. While our stories are different I understand the search under every rock.
I felt that loneliness too Sharon, thank you for sharing. Invisible disorders/illness can be so dispiriting. Dealing with the symptoms are challenging alone, but then juggling scrutiny and misunderstanding on top of it can make the experience feel very heavy at times. I think the key for me was realizing just how many of us are out there, in our own little corners, and when we find each other or hear voices of resonance, I could tap into that collective heart.
Kimberly, forgive me if you’ve already covered this, but will you be trying to get the whole memoir published? I’d really love to hold the whole thing in my hands one day. Your writing is luminous 🌟
Awww, thank you for saying this Amy! I’m unsure at this point, I hear so many horror stories about the publishing industry and am timid to embark down a path that may lead only to frustration and disappointment. I’m not opposed to trying, but after working with Dylan on his memoir and feeling so much resistance from the gatekeepers, I may opt to self-publish. That could be a satisfying option and I know some other respected writers over here are quite happy with that route. I’m open to suggestions though if you have any advice for this novice!
What you shared about the publishing experience of Dylan's memoir was the final nail in the coffin (of traditional publishing) for me!
I have published one book with a German self-publishing company called 'Tredition' 7 years ago. They are now offering their services to English language authors too. The company is called 'tredition', publishing quality is very good, distribution goes via all the usual channels, and costs are much lower than other self-publishing options. You might like to take a look. https://tredition.com/en/about-us/
It’s such a disheartening industry, from what I’ve learned, especially from some of the more experienced authors over here. Sounds like you’ve been experiencing that too with your most recent masterpiece? Your work is an essential and life-transforming contribution to humanity, I can’t fathom how publishers would pass you up. But I’m grateful there are now alternatives. I will check out your recommendation and let you know if I have any questions. Thank you!
masterpiece or not, I just have no idea how to get past the gatekeepers, and can't imagine myself getting drawn into the relentless game of post publishing booktours etc...
The answer is, I haven't even tried with this book. I believe it is time to take our power back as writers. And Tredition offers that opportunity (as a fair collaboration)
I’m even more of a novice at all this than you! But when people tell me I should write a book about what I’ve been through with long COVID, I think of how many published writers here on Substack have had trouble breaking into the book publishing world and that is a big turn off, I agree. I trust you’ll let us know if you decide to self-publish?
Oh indeed! And yes to you writing a memoir, your experience would be such an incredible resource and balm to many Amy.
When you have time, we should talk - I'm right there and am seeing some interesting things.
"As I study the acrylic likeness of my experience, my beloved atheist—still drawing from decades of Fundamentalist Baptist indoctrination—offers a parable about Christ at sea during a large squall. While disciples are physically sick from the swells and gripped with fear for their lives, Christ lies on the bow of the ship and sleeps."
EPIC, your depiction of Christ as He sleeps in the midst of the storm, for He knows that our days "Unfixed" are but temporary, as we dutifully trudge this side of heaven for His Joy set before us! This is not our home - this is our 'practice field.' The machinations you've been through with all types of false gods have ultimately lead you to Truth, and the Truth will set you free! Congratulations, you've passed the test on the practice field, and UNBELIEVABLE things lie ahead for you!
Thank you Bob, I find it fascinating (and comforting!) that my own spiritual path (and perhaps everyone’s) that perhaps don’t use the same words/texts as yours, still resonates… makes me want to believe that ultimately all of life is founded from and speaks with the same origins of love.
"...makes me want to believe that ultimately all of life is founded from and speaks with the same origins of love." And it does: "For God so loved THE WORLD (emphasis added) that he gave us His only Son that whoever believe in Him, shall have eternal life." As you say in your comment, all stems from "the same organs of love!"
Your essay speaks to me. I fell down a flight of stairs in 2000 and remain "unfixed," with chronic pain and no answers. I try to find acceptance and peace and Scriptures like the ones you shared help. Thank you for writing about your journey, Kimberly.
What a scary initiation into living unfixed Linda. I join you in the lean toward acceptance, a day by day practice, though it always seems to create a buoyancy around the suffering when I’m able. Thank you for connecting with me here, sending you much love.
Keep trudging!
I loved this: "His energy is heavy, sure, and undoubtedly marred by unprocessed trauma, but fathering a daughter with intellectual disability for twenty-one years has taught him to be in relationship to what is, and not what might be. Being next to him, I inch slowly—ever so slowly—closer to myself, as I am." To celebrate what is. To be at peace with who we are. Such wise words from an old soul. Your writing makes our hearts float on calm seas. I hope you feel better.
What a beautiful thing to say Jane. It's quite powerful to feel the possibility that sharing our individual stories may help create calm seas for another. So happy to have you here.
This chapter always wrecks me in the most beautiful way. A magnum opus of confrontation and acceptance. I am with Amy, whatever you decide with publishing…I would love to have a physical copy of your gorgeous story. One of the most beautifully moving memoirs I have EVER read, Kimberly. Whenever anyone asks me what my favorite memoirs are, yours is at the top of that list. I will always be so wildly grateful for your generosity in sharing your story.
Jenovia, you sure know how to make my heart feel like it’s adorned in glitter. Thank you for your gushing encouragement, it was such a surreal experience over the past year to share my story within such an intimate space. You and so many others have become like old friends, cherished in my heart for the rest of my days, and not without a longing for someday our paths to cross irl. ❤️
Me too! If ever you find yourself in NYC 🙋🏻♀️❤️🔥
I’m only half joking when I say this, You ever consider being an agent? And if so, you’re hired.❤️
I’ve felt many times on my journey like I’ve had nothing left to give. Sometimes when we lean into caring, more than curing, our experience and our selves soften and become more malleable for life to move us in creative, nourishing, and unexpected ways. The curing, the healing, starts to happen of its own accord. It is such an achingly painful dance at times. I deeply honor your words and your experience here. 🙏🏻
What a great way to put it, caring vs. curing. Caring requires us to be present and to offer love to whatever shows up in the moment. Whereas, to me, curing is conditional and betting on the possibility of a “future” life/experience to care for. Thank you for this insight!
It's amazing to read your essay, words so fraught with longing frustration and sadness. And then hope unfixed. Years ago when we were struggling, my husband brought me home a painting of Jesus in the boat with his disciples (I think when we were on one of our near separations). Faith has always been the message, but he and I are knuckleheads. Then, a dear person, who I met on Ellis Island in 2014, with her severely handicapped son, came back into my life four years ago during a devastating estrangement and my dad's passing. She had two daughters who also walked out of her life and wouldn't let her see her grandchildren (our oldest son did this for 2.5 yrs). I realized then that God truly brought me who and what I needed. Her wisdom, and visuals blew my mind. The best one I carry with me is to "cocoon" into Christ's arms and rest there. It's a state of letting go. Pure rest.
Ironic, the parable (your body, the storm) that would pull your husband "back to the story," and not the brokenness of each other that often turns us away from church. That's the message without the worldly noise. Letting go and letting God is very freeing. It's big. I pray for your peace every day Kimberly. ox
Your understanding is always so beautifully articulated Deborah. From what you’ve shared in previous comments, it’s clear your heart has faced the depths of despair and loss and sought refuge in that cocoon of love. I admire your faith and the way it’s opened you to that letting go and absolute trust. That’s so beautiful. You call it God, I call it Love (with a capital L!), and I understand more than ever just how important it is for humans to have that refuge of unconditional trust when things fall apart. 💛
Love is everything. It represents the most unconditional :) and I LOVE all that you do here. Keep going and know that it's touching lives. oxox
Kimberly- this same Bible passage has meant a good deal to my husband and me since I got sick. He even shared a reflection with our church on it, talking about how having Jesus asleep in your boat makes every storm bearable.
Oh how cool is that?! It’s such a powerful story, whether the “storm” is physical or emotional, to imagine ourselves at rest amidst chaos is such an important practice, holding the possibility for opposites to coexist.:)
Reading this beautiful chapter, I feel the way we got to peace is very similar. I too went to a psychic who terrified me and robbed me at my most vulnerable. Then I prayed a lot. And then I gave in to peace. Many many times though. The part of letting go and letting be is always a non-linear process. I do hope you feel at your most peaceful these days. Much love and many hugs!
How interesting to hear this. I think many of us give ourselves over to some of the more predatory healing routes when at our most desperate. We will do anything for relief and answers! Sending you so much love and hugs back. Hopefully someday in person. x
Oh yes. I feel especially sad when people who once were sick decide to take advantage of other sick people, knowing how difficult of an experience it is. I would be delighted to meet you someday in person! :-*