A STORY...

​

 

Once upon a time, a girl was born. She wasn’t extra-ordinary or extra-despisable more than anyone else. She was a normal sort of extraordinary just like you and me.

 

Her family was troubled - as all families are troubled in some way. She was a force of nature. She was larger than life. She shined so brightly and with such force that those around her couldn’t handle her precocious antics. She quickly learned to dim down her light. When she didn’t shine so brightly, the people she relied upon for survival didn’t shun and abandon her. So she created a mask and armor to help her be dim, and she wore them everyday, all the time…except when no one was watching.

 

The years wore on, and the little girl grew up. She took off her mask and armor less and less, and eventually forgot she was wearing them. Though she didn’t rely on her family as much for protection and survival as she grew into a young woman, she was so used to the reassurance and comfort of her mask and armor that it seemed it had always been a part of her. She forgot.

 

She forgot lots of things. She forgot how brightly she shined within her armor and beneath the mask. She forgot the powerful force of creative energy that burned within her and could move mountains. She forgot what it was like to be afire with enthusiasm and passion, to live life with the abandon of a child. And because everyone else around her also wore masks and armor that they had forgotten about, she thought she was normal and coasted through life.

 

But something wasn’t quite right, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She was feeling depressed, and had no idea why. She was doing everything she was supposed to be doing, but became more and more depressed. She looked around her and saw all the people with the happy masks and tried her best to look happy too; but inside, dark thoughts chased around her head all day and all night like sinister shadows. The days wore on, and the years wore on in turn, and it seemed that things would always be the same…

​

******************

 

 

This isn’t a story about just any girl. It’s my story, and if it resonated for you, then it’s your story, too.

What does the next chapter in yours look like? 

​

​I am often asked how I can work with a subject as morbid as trauma without becoming burned out or depressed. My answer to this question is that witnessing the transformation that takes place in people when they master their traumas has proven to be a deeply sustaining and uplifting experience in my life.

​

<script>
  (function(i,s,o,g,r,a,m){i['GoogleAnalyticsObject']=r;i[r]=i[r]||function(){
  (i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o),
  m=s.getElementsByTagName(o)[0];a.async=1;a.src=g;m.parentNode.insertBefore(a,m)
  })(window,document,'script','https://www.google-analytics.com/analytics.js','ga');

  ga('create', 'UA-90743049-1', 'auto');
  ga('send', 'pageview');

</script>

 

​

 

​