Weighty Thoughts

   "And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all He has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice--the kind He will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship Him. Don't copy the behaviour and customs of the this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God's will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect." Romans 12:1-2

  There are no such things as coincidences. This was the passage in today's service. In light of the dietary changes I am introducing into my life, it fit perfectly.

  So I got thinking in church about my attitudes towards food, weight, and goal setting in particular. As thoughts wandered, I realized this is another sort of pilgrimage, a journey towards being and feeling healthier. Losing weight will be a bonus for sure! I am thankful to have a friend travel alongside, but I need to remember the One who is also in this with us.

  Part of Gina Livy's program is teaching us to be mindful of what we eat and how our bodies feel. It's not something I've ever done except for a chocolate mediation one time. That's when you put a small piece of chocolate in your mouth and focus on the sensations it causes. I want to be more mindful of the flavours, textures, and colours that are on the plate as a way of giving thanks to God for what the world brings to my grocery store.

  Then I got thinking about my mental health journey, how for so many years, I was utterly disconnected from my emotions. Numbing was done to simply survive. This disconnect was the birthplace of the depression that began when I was a child. I've done the same thing with my body. It's been the thing that carries my brain around. (Smile.)

  You see, when the lessons were learned that my body was the complete opposite of beautiful, I hated it. I ignored its wants, its needs, its warning signs. Part of my mental health journey has been overcoming many of these lies once adopted as truth. I guess God is ready for me to make the next steps.

  Heck, I am ready!

  I've done much repenting this morning but, true to the grace of God, there is no shame in the choices that have been made. There is only a turning towards a better way: God's way towards wholeness in body, mind and spirit through Jesus Christ, guided by being part of a program.

  That's not to say I don't want chocolate. Sugar withdrawal is a real thing. But through a God who strengthens each of us, I can take a sip of water and move on in the hope that these cravings will eventually stop. If that's a goal, then it's as good a place as any to start!

  In time, I can allow myself desert but only when I know I can control my appetite for them. Hmmm...another goal. 

  So is turning towards a better way. Three goals in one post! I just like knowing the success is already happening!

  Praise God. Amen.

  

Making Changes

   "Father, may your name be kept holy. May your Kingdom come soon. Give us each day the food we need, and forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. And don't let us yield to temptation." Luke 11:2-4

  Monday saw the start of another journey towards another kind of wellness. I signed up for the Gina Livy program. While it's geared to weight loss, it's more about giving the body what it needs. I've learned a lot about why it stores fat, of which my own storage compartments are full of to the point of overflowing.

  Initially, I signed up because my friend wanted to do it. It was easier if both of us had to eat the same types of food. I signed up to support her in her own efforts. But here's the thing, I've already lost around 4 pounds by following the food plan and upping my water intake.

  It's not a diet like most diets. There's no starving, there's no calorie counting. There is also no food weighing which suits me just fine. No gym workouts required. Yay!

  There's also no shame or guilting (one of my biggest issues with other diet programs.) In fact, it's just the opposite. Grace rules here because if you get off track or are unable to follow the meal regime, you skip what you have missed and carry on. 

  It's early in the three month program and so far the focus is on learning about what our bodies need to prevent it from storing "emergency" fat reserves. It's about learning to listen to it, too.

  My take-a-way from this is if I consistently give my body what it needs, it won't store fat so the reserves can go. Another Yay!

  I've already experienced the impact on my physical health by eating better because I hadn't realized part of my mental health challenges were tied to malnutrition. Eating better has helped my mood and energy levels up to this point. I can thank my friend for making this possible but it's time to take it further.

  Because I feel better already on the Gina Livy program I am no longer in it just for my friend, I am in it for my own health.

  It's a gratitude kind of day. Thank You, Lord, my mental health has been consistently stable so there's an ability to focus on something besides just making it through the day. I give thanks that the occasional hiccup or life challenge hasn't dragged me down. I give thanks the Lord brought a food strategy, science based approach to weight loss instead of a fad diet because He knows just how fearfully and wonderfully made we are!

  Thank you, as well for my friend. Together we can make changes and lean on each other when the going gets tough. This is the greatest blessing of all. Amen! 

All God's Creatures

 "Then God looked over all He had made and He saw that it was very good!" Genesis 1:31

  My friend and I went for a walk in the conservation area across the road today. The sun peeked out from the clouds a couple of times, taking the sting out of the stiff spring breeze. Some of the clouds were dark and growly. It felt like rain was waiting just beyond the horizon.

  There's a man made lake in the park that is a stopping off point for many migratory birds. Some stay for the summer, others move further north to nest. The variety of waterfowl this time of year is astounding.

  I get excited when I see something new there. This time there was a small, Green Heron scampering along the brush lined shore. I've only ever seen one other and that was many years ago.

  The highlight of our walk was sitting on a bench by the beach. We watched four bald eagles soar and hunt and hover over the water. Three were juveniles but one had its gleaming white head and tail. It helped us figure out the others were actually eagles. It's good to know they haven't left the area and are continuing to nest here.

  I think I read somewhere that last year's chicks will often assist the parents in raising their young the next year but don't quote me on that. 

  The eagle nest up the road blew down a couple of summers ago. We haven't been able to find where the new one is. Maybe that's a good thing. If it's off the beaten path, people can't disturb the nest site in their eagerness to get a good photo of these beautiful birds.

  A flock of seagulls tried driving them off. They are a big bird, too, but next to the eagles they look small!

  On a previous walk, there were Trumpeter Swans at the lake. A male was defending the honour of his lady against the unwanted attentions of another male. It was quite the battle with the intruder eventually flying away.

  There have also been native Mute swans resting there at times. They are such beautiful birds!

  The swans are a relatively new species to the area. I wonder if it's because their migration patterns have changed over the last few years. Is this because of habitat destruction or environmental changes? Or both? Could be. I am glad they have become a common sight in the spring and some even nest at another small lake just northwest of here.

  This morning also graced us with fat Robins, Blue Jays, a Kingfisher, the ever present Chick-a-dees, Song Sparrows, and a smaller, unremarkable song bird that is hard to identify. I am always amazed at the variety.

  Cormorants, Mallard ducks, Bufflehead ducks and Mergansers are common to the area this time of year. Sometimes they squabble with each other but nothing like the Canada geese that are ever present. They are the noisiest bunch, constantly debating whatever it is geese debate about.

  We saw a beaver last week. There's lots of evidence throughout the park that they are there but it's rare to see one.

  I am blessed to have all this so close at hand. Walking through the park this time of year helps shake off the winter blahs. Signs of life are erupting in the forests and fields surrounding the lake. Trees are blooming. A few early flowers brighten the monotonous drab browns of dead grasses. 

  It won't be long before the green mantle of summer is everywhere.

  And that is the best part of all. 

  Until mosquitoes, biting deer flies, horse flies, and ravenous black flies make us walk along the road instead of entering the park for a couple of months. Thankfully the worst of them fades away as temperatures climb. Roll on summer!!

   

  

Art of Prayer Introduction Booklet

 

 

 

 

The Art of Prayer

by

Susan Starrett 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An introduction to connecting with God through imagery

Pilgrimage

   "Jesus went through the towns and villages, teaching as He went, always pressing on toward Jerusalem." Luke 13:21

  'Pilgrimage' is often used to describe an individual's journey through life, sometimes as a general description of personal growth and exploration, sometimes, as in Christianity, outlining a particular spiritual focus or pathway which it is believed will lead to encounters with God. york.ac.au

  The third attempt at writing a small booklet as an introduction to the Art of Prayer has been successful. Trying to use the blog posts as a starting off point ended because the posts contained too much irrelevant information. I tried tackling it the old fashioned way with pen and paper but all the ideas meant I couldn't write fast enough!

  To be honest, I had no idea how to organize the whole thing.

  God is so good! He allowed me to wrestle with the booklet on my own because He knew I'd eventually smarten up and ask for His help. Sometimes I can be about as much fun as a toddler wanting to do up their own coat zipper!

  My friend helped polish it off by adding some pictures and playing around with fonts. I am pleased with the end result.

  There's an introduction, followed by a brief essay on the Spiritual Practices involved in praying through art. The next bit talks about creating a Sacred Space to do the art and what that means. It wraps up with suggestions for what sort of materials would be handy then closes off with a simple art exercise. The hardest part was writing a brief bio "about the author."

  As I was going to bed last night, the idea of pilgrimage leapt up out of nowhere...Smile...well not nowhere. I wondered if I needed to add another page to the booklet. Maybe it's not finished yet.

  It did get me thinking.

  Pilgrimage is a spiritual practice we often forget about. I realized I had only thought of going on a pilgrimage as taking a trip to Jerusalem to walk where Jesus had walked. That's way beyond my bank account.

  I thought about people who are housebound or who had physical disabilities. How on earth would they get to Jerusalem? How on  earth could they ever experience what a pilgrimage is?

  So what is it?

  Like the definition says, it's making a journey towards something Holy, like a city, or like Jesus. In the time spent on the road, there is both time and opportunity to reflect on why the journey is important. It's having time to open our hearts and minds to the joy of what lay ahead. I can only imagine the Disciples excitement as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the donkey.

  I suppose the Disciples had an easier time of it because they walked everywhere. Having cars sure cuts down on prep time!

  Then I realized a pilgrimage can happen without leaving my house.

  The act of clearing off the table, making sure the Bible is near, getting my laptop out of the desk, of making a coffee, of powering up the machine, of pulling back the chair, sitting down and finally writing is a pilgrimage whose destination is Jesus. I go through this routine each time I write. 

  Change the laptop to art supplies, it's the same thing: a mini journey where I arrive at my Sacred Space, my Jerusalem, aka the kitchen table. 

  Unless toddler me decides to take over! But that was it's own pilgrimage, wasn't it? Nevertheless, these steps, these ritualistic preparations are crucial in unlocking both creativity and receptiveness. It helps me change gears which basically means leaving the minutia of daily life behind.

  That's all a pilgrimage is: a leaving behind and a moving forward at the same time. 

   When the day's writing or art has been fraught with emotion I leave it in God's hands because that was the whole purpose behind the day's journey. Having something tangible, like a painting, makes it that much easier because I can physically put it away.

  There's healing in being able to do this. There's often closure. There's often another layer that needs exploration. Smile. I just realized, my kitchen table sized Jerusalem is where the journey actually begins. 

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer: Further Evolution

   "We ask God to give you complete knowledge of His will and to give you spiritual wisdom and understanding. Then the the way you live will always honor and please the Lord, and your lives will produce every kind of good fruit." Colossians 1:9-10

  I took a stab at writing the little handbook about the Art of Prayer but it didn't go so well. Mainly because I neglected to allow the Lord to lead the process. It happens. Frequently. So I repent: that wonderful, marvelous and life giving action of turning away from my foolishness and looking towards Jesus. He's always there, waiting for me to come to my senses. (Smile.)

  There's an ample amount of stubbornness in me, too. Like a toddler who wants to put their own coat on despite it being beyond their abilities. So I confess this morning that it feels writing the little book or pamphlet or whatever you call it is way over my head.

  So maybe I can't do this on my own. (I can't, you know.)

  Maybe I need to get some advice on how to tackle a bigger project than a single blog post. Are there tricks of the trade? Are there easier ways to organize ideas to help decide which to prioritize?

  Should I simply start by printing off the blog posts already written about the Art of Prayer? Paper copies would make it easier for this old school Nana to decide what order they should go in. That makes the most sense, doesn't it, to use what I already have? Why reinvent the wheel?

  Why is there such doubt that what's been written isn't good enough to publish in a paper format? Who says it has to be printed at all? There's all kinds of books out there that never see a single letter emblazoned on paper.

  There's that old enemy showing his ugly face. He doesn't want this project, this calling of God on my life to move forward. He'd be more than happy for me to embrace what he thinks of the whole thing.

  But I am not going to let him. I repent, Lord, of believing his lies and once again, turn to you.

  

  I am about to embark on a great adventure, one that I hope will deepen the faith of others.

  To God be the glory. AMEN!

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer: Evolution

   "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do and he will show you which path to take. (He will keep your path straight.)" Proverbs 3:5-6

  I was in Tobermory for the first time at a women's retreat this past weekend. It was one of the loveliest early spring weekends I have ever experienced. The sun shone. The heat baked winter bones as we sat on the deck, enjoying the view. Lake Huron was as still as glass. God's presence saturated the ground we walked on, warming our souls. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the birds singing and the gentle lap of water against the limestone shore. 

  It was so quiet, I could hear a snowshoe rabbit chew! It's the first time I've ever seen one. This particular gentleman was losing his winter white fur, opting for the seasonal protection of a summer brown. Their bodies are much smaller than I expected but their legs are like stilts compared to the bunnies that grace my yard.

  It was a small retreat, only five of us. For me, it was just the right amount of people. I shared with the ladies about God's nudging around running an Art of Prayer workshop. The leader and owner of the property said she would be happy to have me do one at the cottage. All of a sudden, running the workshop became manageable. I could do a weekend with a small number of ladies.

  God knew I was wrestling with where to host a group since my house is so small.

  As the group chatted about the idea, the Lord gave me some solid plans about what it would look like.

  

  The first night would be spent doing a check in and drafting a comfort agreement. It normally includes such things as the need for confidentiality. It's something we do at work and I have found it helps in making the space safe for everyone. It also sets the tone for the remaining time spent together.   

  I thought I would offer colouring pages of illustrated scripture verses. The participants could choose one or two and that would be their focus for the weekend. Taking the time to colour them in is a wonderful introduction to the disciplines of patience, being still, and opening our hearts to hear what God has to say. I will add that there is an element of play in this, of recapturing the child within with a practice most of us experienced in childhood.

  The second day would be an opportunity to learn the art of collage. The scripture verse they chose the night before would be a starting point. This will open the door to any additional thoughts God might bring their way during three two hour timeslots. 

  The last day's session would be spent debriefing about the experience if the participants care to share. It would be a time of prayer for each other, too.

  I feel I need to create a pamphlet or some sort of handout around the Art of Prayer.  Much of the writing has already been done in the blog, I just need to streamline some of the ideas I've tried to share.

  I am not sure when this is going to happen except it will happen with God's perfect timing.

  Each participant can bring their own art supplies in the way of standard back-to-school needs. Pens, pencils, markers, glue sticks, a ruler and scissors. 

  

  During the course of the conversation, every single lady expressed a worry about their "lack of artistic ability" and how it might prevent them from entering into this prayer practice.

  This is not of God. 

  This is what the world has done to crush creativity and artistic expression.

  Why is that?

  Because God will use art to speak an international language that can touch anyone anywhere.

  Wow. How amazing is that! 

  

  

  

HSP: Highly Sensitive Person

   'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for He has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the Lord's favor has come." Jesus   Luke 4:18

  An email came in yesterday. It contained the link to a website regarding highly sensitive people or HSP. As I poured through article after article, I felt the Lord's hand on my shoulder.

  "This is one of your why's."

  There are many, you know. 

  I have no idea where or when "why" became a question we were never supposed to ask of God...oh...my why's aren't asking why God allowed something to happen. They are a child's curious questions as though I am asking why the sky is blue. God created our atmosphere to sustain life. Science has enabled us to understand why it is blue.  

  God knows I love answers.

  He has been faithful in answering the very first prayer I made as a new believer, "Who am I?" As I discover more and more and unravel toxic beliefs, Jesus reveals more and more of who He is. 

  While this may not have been articulated as a direct prayer/question, the unspoken one has been, "Why am I the way I am?" I believed there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

  My whole life I've had people tell me how I should be and that the way I was wasn't good or right. They demanded that my behaviours fit their expectations.

  Acquiescence spoke up loudly so I obeyed even into adulthood. God has forgiven me for denying myself because I didn't know there was such a thing as having the right to be or do anything else. My wants or needs were always negated or belittled and in some relationships still are but I am working on that. 

  It takes some time to unlearn the guilt that comes from rocking the boat.

  God has given me a friend who encourages and supports my choices; who also helps me see God's truth and plans. I've never had a champion before. I've never had someone who is okay with me being me. Gratitude for this gift is too inadequate a word.

  Then this email arrives "out of the blue" bringing clarity and a fresh perspective. (Smile. God's timing is impeccable isn't it.)

  Oh, how I love science! The sky is blue because of the sun.

  And this is for all the other highly sensitive people out there. Yes, you are different! Praise God!

  www.highlysensitiverefuge.com

  While pouring through the website, reading article after article, my soul laughed and danced with joy.

  Less than one in three of us are highly sensitive. Brain scans and science have proven our brains are more active and attuned to the subtleties of our environment. We unconsciously utilize more of our brain's abilities to process the world around us. 

  Sensitivity is far more than emotional responses to emotional events.

  Our brains are wired with a level of hypervigilance that is ever present. It means when we look at a box of cereal we see far more than a box. It means we are far more aware of the emotional cues from the people around us. It means we can get awfully tired being in a busy store.

  It means we can lose ourselves in the sight of something beautiful: a landscape, a laughing child, the way the sun hits the trees and turns them to gold.

  It means we have a hard time watching the news because our ability to emotionally connect with what's happening can impact us in terrible ways.

  I though I was this way because of PTSD. The PTSD actually amped up what was already there naturally. The article has made me realize this isn't an inner enemy to be vanquished because I am not actually broken beyond repair. It's part of who I am and how my mind works.

  I've also said many times that trauma  has damaged my brain similarly to the damage a stroke causes. What if it hasn't? What if there's nothing wrong with the way I think or process or view the word and my environment? What if I treat my brain and the way it works as the gift God meant it to be?

  How freeing is that! And there's so much more to how these authors have helped me find grace and acceptance. Knowledge is a powerful thing.

  While there are challenges, there are also untold gifts in being a highly sensitive person. It's why the world works so hard to shut it down. 

  And I can say, through the power and love of Christ, no, the world won't.

  There is no such thing as being "too sensitive." God forbid I ever, ever grow a thick skin.

  

  

  

  

   

  

The Black River

   "After they had nailed Him to the cross, the soldiers gambled for His clothes by throwing dice. Then they sat around and kept guard as He hung there. A sign was fastened above Jesus' head, announcing the charge against Him. It read: "This is Jesus, King of the Jews." Two revolutionaries (criminals) were crucified with Him, one on His right and one on His left." Mathew 27:35-38

  Back in 2012 when I chose the title for the blog, the Black River represented my struggles with depression and complex PTSD. It symbolized the all encompassing pain of trauma and abuse that was trying to drown me. I often felt powerless when its strong currents would sweep me into the depths of black memories that would rather be forgotten. 

  God gave me determination when hope was absent. He taught me how to build steep shores and dykes and berms to stop the river from overflowing. He taught me how to divert the river's path with dams constructed of art and words. The waters that would destroy me have soaked the arid land and many wonderful things now grow and continue to grow because of this.

  Does the Black River still flow?

  Yes. It does.

  But the water sparkles under the light of God's Son, of Jesus. The river's inky depths are pierced by dancing beams of light and goodness. 

  I am forever grateful.

  Without the Black River, I would not know Jesus.

  Without the Black River, I would never have realized my need for Him. 

  Without the Black River, I would never have found the determination to search for truth: God's truth. The father of lies would have me believing his truth that formed the river in the first place. He doesn't care if I sink or swim.

  God does.

  All I can say is the sins of men brought me to my knees and threw me into the depths of madness and despair. The stony, lifeless riverbed of the Black River was created in that moment of unfathomable sorrow.         

  My heart breaks for those who never find their way out of their own Black Rivers.

  My heart breaks for those who drown.

  My heart breaks for those who get swept away, never to be found.

   Every Easter I find myself thinking about the dark and terrible and wonderful day, November 9th, 2004, when I risked letting Jesus into my life as death called my name. 

  As I remember the inexpressible pain of the day that changed the course of my life, I find myself wondering, "How much more did Jesus feel on the Cross that day?" 

  And I hear His answer, "Your sins, too, my child."

  That's when I know, once again, I have been forgiven for helping to dig the riverbed.

  

  

The Art of Prayer: Of Meadows and Mountains

   "Yes, I (Jesus) am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pastures." John 10:9

  "The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green meadows; He leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honour to His name." Psalm 23:1-3

  This pen and ink drawing came as a result of one of the suggested prompts I shared in a post about the Art of Prayer. It's my meadow. 

  Although it's a black and white image, I see it in glorious colour. The grass is the deep green of mid summer, dotted with purple and yellow wildflowers. The mountains are shades of lavender and gray, highlighted by the silver of the sunless sky. The clouds barely hold the sun at bay as shimmering beams break through in Jacob's Ladders of gold and orange and white.  

  The stream is a thousand colours of blue and gray and green. Green covered stones make the water sing and laugh and burble joyfully. 

  The flickering buzz of a dragonfly's wings makes me duck away as it races past my ear. I've never heard a butterfly but they are there, too, feasting on the nectar filled flowers.

  The pine trees stand as dark sentinels, guarding the base of the mountains. They whisper poems of awe and wonder as their branches are stirred by the fresh breeze coming off the mountains. Deciduous trees can't grow here because this meadow is closer to Heaven than I 've ever been before.

  The time worn grays and blacks of the fence are subdued by the freshly painted, bright red farm gate. It creaks a bit as it sways but never hard enough to close off the way in and out of the meadow.

  And there Jesus walks.

  And I walk beside Him. 

  Smile. It would appear sharing about the Art of Prayer wasn't finished after all. When I sat down to write this morning, I had no idea this was where it would take me.

  My meadow is a composite drawing, created by leaning into precious moments of stillness when I have sat and listened and looked. That's how these full on sensory photographs are seared into my mind. It's a form of worship, this being still with my mind at rest yet fully focused on everything that is around me. It enables me to close my eyes at any time and mentally "see" an object as though it was in front of me.

  I might just focus on a single flower and watch the petals bend and flex under the weight of a bee, its busy buzz silenced for a moment as it probes the flower for food. Maybe the flower dances because of a miniscule hurricane created by the invisible wings of a hummingbird moth. 

  I might just focus on the sky, even if there are no clouds. It turns different blues depending on the season. I love the rich depth of an autumn sky.

  And water. Oh, how I love to spend time looking at water. It has a thousand thousand different visual voices. Sound and sight go hand and hand when it comes to memory. 

  It just dawned on me as I took a momentary break...this worship practice is actually a form of controlled, in-the-moment, hyper-vigilance. Just like when I don't feel safe or am in a new environment, all my senses are turned into a full awareness of the least movement, smell and sound. 

  When it's worship, the fight-flight response is missing

  When it's worship, I feel the presence of the Holy Spirit because the hyper-vigilance hasn't been ignited through my fears of the unknown. (Smile, I refuse to beat myself up about this any more. It is what it is and based on the post from a couple of days go, I won't have to wait 'til heaven to have this healed. I give it all to you, Lord.)

  When it's worship, I see colours there are no names for.

  When it's worship, it's a celebration of all that God has created.

  

  What a gift God has given me, us. He has redeemed a fundamental piece of what makes us human by taking an instinctual survival response and making it His, for Him and His glory.

  Maybe, when the evil twin of joyful worship starts trying to take over, I can now declare that the enemy of my soul has no right to take what is God's. 

  How cool is that! AMEN!

  

   

Taking a Leap

   "For You created my innermost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be." Psalm 139:13-14

  I got the calendar out this morning to map out a path of days aimed at reducing one of the medications taken for anxiety. It's a long, slow process and will take several months. It will take just as many months for my body to adjust. Psychotropic medications are one of the hardest types to stop taking. I learned the hard way to never, ever quit them cold turkey because it threw my body and mind into utter chaos. 

  Nobody warned me this would happen.

  It's because the body's coping systems get used to the help. That's why it takes so long for the body to adjust. I've been on this particular medication for years and while I would love to not take it any more the process requires patience. It will take several years to get off it for a number of reasons. 

  I need to be feeling well enough to tackle this because it will increase my anxiety level for a time. That's why it's done in the spring when days are growing warmer and longer. My psychiatrist, who supports a careful reduction also recommended this. I trust him. He's never been they type of doctor who leans towards over medication and has worked with me so I only take enough to allow me to do the work needed to find mental wellness and stability.

  I've seen far too many people who are unable to think or feel because of the massive amounts of meds prescribed to them. It's a sad existence, not a life. This utterly erases any sort of ability to work through whatever led them to the need for meds in the first place. It's like they've had an emotional lobotomy.

  The medications have only ever been one tool in my journey of discovery.

  My environment needs to be fairly stable to facilitate any reductions. The added chaotic and confusing Covid protocols and what happened with Bruxy made it impossible for me to do this before now. 

  Life finally has some semblance of order again.

  Emotionally, I am in a very good place. It's nice to be able to say that.

  Then something new has come across my path. It's not really new, but new to me.

  For a long time, I was reluctant to delve into anything that might lead me astray. I questioned homeopathic practices, not sure if they were really of God. Funny, that. I just realized I never had an issue taking a pill without any doubt they weren't of God.

  So natural things are finally being added as alternative tools in my pursuit of wellness. 

  Taking enough vitamin D was the first. North Americans need more D in the spring. Sadly, this is when the suicide rates increase because our bodies are so depleted after the short, gray days of winter. It's such an inexpensive way to support mental wellness for everyone. It's simply a matter of making sure we take enough. I take 5000 mg per day. It took some experimenting to find that level but anything less, I feel the difference. If I find myself feeling down after a few sunless days, I take more until things are back on track.

  My pharmacist changed my life when she told me all about it a few years ago. Previous experiments with D hadn't worked because I simply wasn't taking enough.

  I now wear a Harmoni necklace that helps protect the body against EMFs. I know, it sounds like hooey. How could a piece of jewelry protect against all the electromagnetic forces in the world today? Power lines emit them, my laptop, the microwave, cell phone transmissions... it's everywhere. All I know is within twenty minutes of putting it on the first time, my stress level dropped dramatically. I took it off to see what would happen. You guessed it...within minutes, up she went again. It's helped me realize there might be environmental influences feeding the anxiety. (It's nice to know it's not all in my head after all.)

  Chronic anxiety is nasty. I suffer so badly because my mind got broken. It's always in high alert, fight flight mode. It's not due to a lack of faith or fear, but to repeated physical  and emotional trauma that damaged my brain. Trauma has been proven to cause the same type of damage a stroke can cause. If the necklace's ability to calm stress is simply a placebo effect, I don't care. If a placebo fools the body and mind into a place of rest, count me in! It's retraining my brain either way.

  Thank You Lord that the brain can be healed and retrained!

  So, about this new to me thing. There's a homeopathic practice that's been around for a long time called Body Talk. (www.bodytalksystems.com) While I am unfamiliar with all the ins and outs of it, simply put, it allows us to listen to what our body is saying at a subconscious level. We do it all the time when our body tells us it's time to sleep. 

  The practice I am tapping into, literally, is called the Cortices Technique. It involves a systematic placing of your hands on your head and tapping. I was utterly blown away by what happened the first time I tried and have since incorporated this into my anti-anxiety arsenal. It turns me into pudding every time. 

  I like feeling like pudding if pudding describes what it's like to not feel anxious! My meds have only succeeded in moderating it, not eradicating it.

  If tapping retrains my brain and body, if this simple exercise brings healing, I know it is of God.

  The effects don't last very long for now but I have hope that, over time, the pudding feeling will last longer. My body needs to learn this is how it should feel. 

  This is the first time in my life I've ever felt an absence of anxiety, however briefly. Ever. 

  I am filled with hope and excitement that my body and mind will one day be at peace. Praise God! I won't have to wait until He takes me home after all.