Friday, June 20, 2014

this kind of prayer

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Last night I went to another meeting.  Haven't I been to a million of those 12-step meetings yet? Haven't I reached my quota yet?  I find myself itching.  Like some kind of unseen friction demanding it's time to shed another layer.  

We read step 11, personal revelation, ya know, praying and getting answers and stuff.  The first paragraph stopped me and I began to think of the "...angry, confused times when, if we prayed at all, we prayed either in an attitude of stubborn self-will or whimpering self-pity."

How many times have I stamped my little feet, bawled till my eyes were sandpaper and shook my fist at the man in the moon demanding He change this or that.

A few weeks ago I lost something, a small brown package.  I spent hours tearing out drawers and closets and frantically sifting through piles and toy boxes.  Throwing stuff from one place to another, wearing my impatience like a flamethrower.  Stand back!   

Finally, I hit a hit false rock bottom, I shook my first at the sky and said, "Fine.  I'll say a damn prayer and ask for your help."  

And, so, I said an angry, anxious, demanding prayer with one eye open and one hand still rummaging through the drawer.  It sounded something like this:


Dear God, 
Give me exactly what I want right now before I explode!    
Amen.
I opened the closed eye and dug with full force and and more determination.  Another painful hour passed until I hit the real rock bottom.  The kind where you surrender and sigh and lean for support against the wall, truly aware of your powerlessness.  I picked up a book and a slip of paper fell out that read;
Be anxious for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.  Philippians 4:6
That was the moment I faced my powerlessness and my terrible fiery ego.  With both eyes closed, I gave Him my flamethrower, raised my hands to my heart, whispered my sorrys and gently asked that my heart align with His.  That moment of silence pounded in my chest.

I opened my eyes and opened the drawer I had torn through a million times in the last few hours and my heart burst into tears...there, as if our Fathers' hand had reached down from the heavens and placed it there Himself, the small brown package lay on top of the drawers jumbled mess.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Quizzes are fun

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A few weeks ago I took the {what kind of dog are you quiz}...turns out I'm a mutt.  Yes, we all laughed because it is kind of true to life.  My hair's matted and needs a good comb, I'm game for all things fun, especially playing ball.  I'll eat almost anything and love almost everyone, except men in hats and glasses.  They make me nervous and then I start to bark.

This isn't really a quiz but ADDO has put out a survey asking for our thoughts.  So here's our chance ladies, let's tell them what we need.

A letter from ADDO
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Hi There,

We need your help! We need to understand what you need next.

For over a year now, we have had tremendous success serving women throughout the world with our first program “Healing From Betrayal Trauma.” In fact, our outcomes report trauma reduced by 76%!

However, we realize our free program is not enough. To understand what to do next, we ask that you take 5 minutes, follow the link, and fill out our Trauma Recovery Needs Survey. Here is the link https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/trauma-recovery.

We thank you in advance for your help. Your answers will help us create programs that million of women suffering from trauma need!

We have felt honored to have served you and look forward to continuing to do so.

Warmly,

W. Eric Red
Addo Recovery 

Monday, June 16, 2014

HONY

Humans of New York


"I’m a neuroscience researcher."
"If you could give one piece of advice to a large group of people, what would it be?"
"Listen to your inner voice."
"You’re a scientist. Isn’t ‘inner voice’ a spiritual term?"
"Bullshit! You’ll hear scientists talking about following their inner voice as much as you’d hear a musician or a priest."
"So how do you know which of your thoughts are your true inner voice?"
"All of them are! The question is— how much weight do you give them? How much authority do you give your own thoughts? Are you taking them seriously? Or are you sitting in front of the damn tube letting other people tell you what to think?"

Friday, June 13, 2014

Camp Scabs on Wheels...asap!


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We got our runner!  Thanks for all who emailed and were interested...there's always next year!
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Last summer I ran my first Ragnar.  I had no idea what to expect--a 200 miles relay race from Logan UT to Park City?  In a van?  And you just switch off running?  say what?

But a couple of wopa friends invited me and despite my slow pace and paralyzed leg aftermath, I decide to do it.  It was life changing, literally an impromptu Camp Scabs on wheels.  Plus I met new friend.  This friend listened to us tell our stories and was so inspired he decided to give some serious cash to Camp Scabs and has since been the backing behind our scholarship program.  This wasn't just kismet.

A bunch of wopa friends and I are doing it again but sadly, one of our runners has had to bail on us and the race is in a few weeks, June 27-28 for the Wasatch Back Ragnar (Logan UT to Park City).

Are you interested in joining us?  You don't have to be fast or good or ultra speedy, you just have to be amazing and want to reach out and connect and exercise with other ladies in a stinky van for 2 days.  It's a bond like no other!!

Email me with "Ragnar" in the subject line and I'll send you all the details.  If cash is an issue, don't worry, we have a plan.

EATMYSCAB (at) GMAIL (dot) COM

Monday, June 9, 2014

diving into the inky indigo water


Summer in Phoenix isn't popular.  But, there is something I love about it.  The cleansing heat, loose cotton dresses, copious amounts of ice water and sweet tea, homemade watermelon popsicles but the best part may be the midnight-moonlight swimming.  Diving into the inky indigo water; fresh, cooling, mysterious.  The crystal water by day transformed by the cover of evening into a deep dark pool.  I always wonder if there's a shark or an eel or some other deep sea creature with teeth awaiting the dip of my toe, disturbing the black mirror.  But there isn't.  The pool is the same at night, as it is in the day, or is it?  Is there magic in there?  I float, braving the imaginary eel.  Resting on my back in the still water, my eyes fixed on the enveloping midnight sky and I relax.  I surrender.  Time waits for me.  Sometimes, are we afraid to relax and be still?  Afraid of the creatures with teeth?

I first learned how to surrender with my body--yoga, meditation, running, floating in a dark pool--and then my mind was able to follow.  I met a lady at camp scabs that asked me if I was a kinesthetic learner.  I suppose I am.  I've been fascinated by the idea ever since meeting her.

The irritability washes off me, heavy and dripping, like tar, to the bottom of the dark pool.  Yes, I'm irritated and bothered!  This recovery-self-discovery business is difficult and I feel another layer preparing to flake off revealing the newly discovered parts of me.

Tonight I baked a strawberry rhubarb pie.  I could smell it's sweetness as I floated and then I could smell that crispy burning.  oops!

Tomorrow, we'll have pie for breakfast.

I feel such love for you all and hope you find value in taking quiet moments to surrender and listen to yourself.

xo
Scabs
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