For Thursday doors. No, you can’t see the door. I am standing in one door and there is another.
out door
For Thursday doors. No, you can’t see the door. I am standing in one door and there is another.
…on me…
For Wordless Wednesday.
I spoke to a patient recently about ACE scores. A veteran. Who has had trouble sleeping since childhood.
“What was your childhood like?” I say. “Was sleeping safe?”
“No, it wasn’t. We were in (one of the major cities) in a very bad part of town.”
“So not sleeping well may have been appropriate. To keep you safe. To survive.”
We both think this veteran has PTSD.
“I think I had PTSD as a child. And then the military made it worse.”
I show the veteran the CDC website and ACE pyramid: https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/acestudy/about.html.
Adverse childhood experiences. Leading to disrupted neurodevelopment. Leading to a higher risk of mental health disorders, addiction, high risk behavior, medical disorders and early death.
Ugly, eh? Damaged children.
“But I don’t agree with it.” I say.
My veteran looks at me.
“Disrupted neurodevelopment.” I say. “I don’t agree with that. Different neurodevelopment. Crisis neurodevelopment. We have to have it as a species in order to survive. Think of the Syrian children escaping in boats, parents or sibling drowning. We have to have crisis wiring. It isn’t wrong, it’s different. The problem is really that our culture does not support this wiring.”
“You can say that again.”
“Our culture wants everyone to be raised by the Waltons. Or Leave it to Beaver. But the reality is that things can happen to any child. So we MUST have crisis wiring. Our culture needs to change to support and heal and not outcast those of us with high ACE Scores.”
My Veteran is quiet, thinking that over.
I say, “You may read more about ACE scores but you do not have to. And we can work more on the sleep. And we do believe more and more that the brain can heal and can rewire. But you were wired to survive your childhood and there is no shame in that.”
I took the picture in Wisconsin in August.
the deer remind me
the deer are not a metaphor
nor simile
they don’t mean anything
they are in town
because we don’t shoot them
outside the town limits
they are shy
here they cross at the crosswalks
and teach their young
about cars and trucks
the deer remind me
each time I see them
they have no voice
I remember
we think of bambi, gentle
and tragedy of a mother’s death
are deer gentle?
they are strong
fast, we are told hooves can kick
sharp and wound
I sing to deer
when I come across them
almost daily
they look at me
singing, watch me
the deer want to live
as I do too
the deer are not a metaphor
and yet they remind me
to be gentle
and that I am strong
and fleet
and can run when I have to
even when I do not have a voice
Taken at Kai Tai Lagoon, this week.
Small neighbors in the sun.
For Wordless Wednesday.
For the Photo Challenge: layered. And today’s poem.
release
I can’t do it, Beloved
or no
I don’t know how, Beloved
release old grief, I am told
I am to have the intention daily
to release old grief
it sits in my throat
aching lump, knot, old
I don’t know how old
is it from before birth
I haven’t looked up whether antibodies
to tuberculosis
cross the placenta
attacking
Kell kills
that is one of the antibodies
that can kill a fetus
I have the grief
a tiger by the tail
at first I was afraid
that releasing it would lose
some core part of myself
that the me I have built
is the nacre, a pearl
wrapped around a core of grief
but Beloved
I try to listen
I try so hard to listen
to have faith
why pay for help
without attempting to follow
the ideas
unless they are so clearly wrong
conversation
with myself
the past the woman the girl the child the fetus
let the grief go
gently
Beloved
maybe I am not gentle enough
full speed ahead
maybe I need to cradle the grief more
rock it, comfort it, thank it
grief, you protected me so much
from the patterns in the family
Beloved
maybe I need to thank the grief
before I let it go
For the Daily Prompt: priceless.
What is more miraculous and priceless then each year’s harvest?
Prayers for the flooded and for rescue and care. Sending love. And money.
For the Daily Prompt: critical. It is critical to find everyone who is still lost, flooded, ill.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Or not, depending on my mood
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain!
An onion has many layers. So have I!
Exploring the great outdoors one step at a time
Some of the creative paths that escaped from my brain!
Books, reading and more ... with an Australian focus ... written on Ngunnawal Country
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
spirituality / art / ethics
Coast-to-coast US bike tour
Generative AI
Climbing, Outdoors, Life!
imperfect pictures
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
En fotoblogg
Books by author Diana Coombes
NEW FLOWERY JOURNEYS
in search of a better us
Personal Blog
Raku pottery, vases, and gifts
π πππππΎπ πΆπππ½π―ππΎππ.πΌππ ππππΎ.
Taking the camera for a walk!!!
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
1 Man and His Bloody Dog
Homepage Engaging the World, Hearing the World and speaking for the World.
Anne M Bray's art blog, and then some.
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