(written April 17, 2020)


I’m sitting in the backyard at a friend’s house with two others I met through Ana David’s Launchpad Inner Circle; the group I mentioned in 6 Feet Apart. An amazing company of people with their own stories about rising from the ashes of their pain and soaring beautiful, healing, and newly, enriched lives. A bond of individuals from all over that only grows stronger every day.


I haven’t blogged much in the past couple of months. I’ve taken a break and done some deep work on myself that I really needed. I have so much content from these new experiences and many “ah ha” moments I want to share with all of you.


I’m still in the discovery and rebuilding stages of myself and my life. I’m trying to be more present for my precious daughters, my gifts from God. And there’s a lot I’d like to do with this website that will be taking most of my energy before I can get to blogging like I once was.


I’m not going to rush my process. I will get there in due time.


I wrote this piece in April when I hit a wall. It was when I realized I needed a reboot. It was when I realized I was sitting in the fire, burning up inside, and I needed to spread my wings so I could soar agin. It was a brief step backwards to get back into the air.


I shared my writing with my group and my group only. I wasn’t planning to publish it, and yet, as I’ve battled this inner voice that has once again became too afraid to speak publicly (I have a piece about Black Live Matters that I started almost two months ago that I can’t seem to finish), I reread this the other day and realized I had done some really good processing I had forgotten about.


Sometimes, we fall back into old habits.


Rafiki recently told me, “It’s the first time hearing that again!”


I’m human and it’s only with repetition and experience that learning will eventually become habit.


Here’s what I wrote over three months ago.

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I’ve identified the intense physical pain.


I feel it coming from my elbows, an electrical charge shooting down my forearms to the tips of my fingers.


My inner child screams, “Get it out! Get it out!” And yet, his screams are muffled under my adult curiosity.


I want to investigate. Understand what it is. Figure out what it means.


In the past, I’ve let him take control.


I will admit, running from these uncomfortable sensations to get them to stop is so much easier. I mean why would anyone subject themselves to physical pain?


I lie in bed trying to comfort my terrified little child. “We know what we need to do to help release this. Let’s try and figure out how to explain what is going on within us first.”


“Who cares! It hurts. Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!” Then under his breath, “it’s her fault.”


How do I say this gently without getting Little Phoenix so upset he takes over? He always blames her.


“The actions are the trigger. It’s nobody’s fault. We need to figure out what’s going on in our body so we can better manage this trigger.”


“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I just want it to stop!” Little Phoenix is pleading with me, begging me to do anything to stop this ache.


“We will,” I comfort. “Until we know more. Let’s be a scientist and experiment.”


“NOOOO!!” my little boy is getting ready to throw a tantrum.

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