129 posts in this topic

Hey EJ, you have just cause to feel betrayed, intimidated, grieve over lost youth, lost sanity, lost mother and a lost father. No-one deserves any of that and yet it happened and still happens. One day, you may loo back and feel compassion for your father but that is not for this time - this is for ranting and raving and expletives, sadness and a deep feeling of loss. No-one reading this post is going to condemn you or justify anything that happened - they are going to mourn with you until the mourning turns into WWSWLTD and watch you walk through the fires and come out like a Phoenix. Hear the song by Glen Campbell and change the meaning yet keep the meaning.

Just a word here on CP - by all means do it alone and practice all the feeling flavours and methods Teal describes. But when ready - there's a bunch of CP'ers sitting waiting to help - find one that resonates with you.

I'd say Good Luck - but honestly, you don't need luck you just need to know that at any time there are people here you can reach out to.
You and I have already and that Project, I thought this morning seems a long, long away away from here at this point in time. One day though. Keep the feelings and sit with them because they are just as important as feeling positive. They are you compass point telling you whether the direction is true or not. Follow those feelings of dead and dying weeds until they turn in flowers and sunshine for they sure will with Teal's and a CP'ers help.

In love and best wishes,
crystal Rob

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Day 38 of 365 days of 'What Would Someone Who Loves Themselves Do?' Can I have a break please?

Insomnia, hives, belching, diarrhea, stomach pangs, dizziness, cold all the time, blood sugar crashes, cravings, brain fog, headaches, nervousness, exhaustion, the everlasting ear infection, and restless leg syndrome, weight gain, muscle twitching, surely thats enough. I’m patiently waiting for this to be over, but the last two days it’s just getting worse. I’m so used to being stressed out with these scary fluctuations with my health. Last winter I was so weak I was hanging onto walls to walk and in and out of the hospital. The thought being healed is so liberating I almost can’t conceive of what it would be like to skip a day of eating. Instead I’m chained to food every two hours with the fun new addition of hives from harmless watermelon. It this emotional work further stressing out my adrenals? Perhaps it’s a vitamin deficiency? Not the mencies? What the hell am I missing now I’m thinking as my legs are burning. I’m doing the best I can. It seems I'm always trying to figure out something in order to take care of myself. 

It’s been 52 days on my fruit diet with a few raw vegetable meals here and there that have made me feel awful after every time. My two raw support group friends are thriving. They are running daily, working and playing with their children meanwhile posting shirtless pictures of their improved physics. I know this sounds like poor me, but I haven’t lost a pound and I’m just happy to laugh on the couch in between Costco runs every few days. Tonight I attempted to glaze my pottery from the class I took a couple weeks ago, but felt so dizzy under the bright lights I just apologized and told the instructor I was feeling sick and had to go. 

Did I manifest this suffering? Why? Is it because I’ve always had a fear of being deprived living in places where my food was controlled and things I wanted were limited? Is this the ultimate backfire? Now If I am deprived of food for a day, I’ll literally die. Seriously can you see why I got caught up in dooms day? What happens to me if I don’t get to eat in four hours. I could sieze, pass out, get really angry, anxiety, break out in a sweat, get a migraine. I’m scared for my life, not being pessimistic. Don’t patronize me, I’m as zen as I can be with a flight or fight hormone imbalance trying to be evolved about death and the world ending. Luckily the sacred question keeps these thoughts from living on the forefront of my thinking. I’d like to run the Completion Process on this but my head is to foggy as I listen to my heartbeat in my ear to even read the steps properly.

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Edited by toemilyjune

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Oh my...

disclaimer:  I am SO not a dietician! 

I was wondering how long you would stay on your fruit-only diet.  It seems to me that the idea is that fruit is really easy on your system.  So fruit-only is just a temporary thing to just give yourself a break.

i don’t think you have diarrhea but I do think you are having a digestion problem.

I just came off a course of antibiotics. It is well known that antibiotics kill off the bad bacteria but also the good bacteria that lives in your gut and helps you digest food.  When you take antibiotics, you tend to get diarrhea.  And so, it is a good idea to eat yogurt or some other probiotic to repopulate your gut with good bacteria.  For me, yogurt is just fine; I don’t need fancy probiotic pills from a health food store.   I have been eating a cup of yogurt along with each meal.  It seems to help my system.  I am planning to keep this up for  while.   And I also plan to use kombucha tea because it is also a probiotic.   But kombucha I think is also supposed to detoxify your liver.  And so it might make a person’s diarrhea worse before it starts to make a person’s diarrhea better.

 Probiotics might be the thing that provides “pranic energy” that some spiritual people talk about.  Of course, I don’t know but I am trying it for myself.

what helps me may not help you, but I wish the best for you. 

Scot

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4 hours ago, Scot said:

...So fruit-only is just a temporary thing to just give yourself a break...?

Hey @Scot I am with you on that one - I know that antibiotics do strip the good bacteria out - have a brother in law that counterbalances pills with more pills; has a mindset that this is the way to health and is shit-scared of where he's heading but won't change course. Talk about taking a horse to water.... 

So I also, I think Emily June is stripping her stomach - with food acids - meaning too strong for any health benefit as she is causing problems on top of problems. Doesn't that tell you something? 

It tells me EJ is working at this at all costs. Being the only physical body she has for this life, is that a good thing? What would it mean to me if I couldn't focus on my body? It may mean I have to face my fears. is that a good thing? etc etc

I think you all get the message...

EJ, please give yourself a break. From the sound of you and your state of health yes, you are slowly killing yourself and it is definitely not out of kindness. Alcohol addiction or any addiction has the same result - going way too far but not recognising it. Yet, your body is screaming at you to stop. 

So to the sacred question: What would someone who doesn't listen to their body, or other people, and is trying to mend their mind at all costs and therefore their wilful ego at all costs, do?

To abbreviate: WWSWDLTTB,OOP,AITTMTMAACATTWEAAC,D? Not so much a sacred question as a necessary change in mindset, maybe? 

At least this is my opinion.

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I am not a dietician either but it's hard to pass by and not to say a word when seeing this much struggle.  I'll try to stay as clear as possible and just share my personal experience. 

Emily, I've tried being fully raw for a while. Mostly from mid spring till next fall cold. I was surprised how easy it was for me. I felt great and financially ready for that. So, not having an extra headache surely affects the food choices, from my experience, lol Also I have experienced many shifts during that time. I did occasionally ate bread, rice or potato (Mostly when i was feeling weak and salad was not a satisfying option). Going out was and still the biggest problem when eating differently. I am lucky to find vegetarian/vegan options at least.

Btw the brain fog isn't always a diet issue but diet surely can affect how you feel.

My self-love journey along with my food journey has led me to other changes in my life, including wearing invisalign for approximately 1,5 year depending how it goes... that caused me to have tooth sensitivity,  so I'm kinda stuck with baby food for now. 

In conclusion,  Emily,  listen to your gut! Addiction cures with another addiction.  When your mind is occupied with other things or best with things you're passionate about - you will have no time to think about food! Hopefully by then you'll be with someone who can take care and remind you of that!

All the best❤

Garnet

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56 minutes ago, Garnet said:

...it's hard to pass by and not to say a word when seeing this much struggle.  I'll try to stay as clear as possible...

Hey Garnet, yes I agree and while I may be over the top in advice - it's Emily June who has her own free will and can make her own choices; with every breath she draws.

Emily June, seeing people care about you may not be helpful to your solo journey - but in reality, as soon as you go write your days on open forum you realise being alone in this was never going to be an option. I see that as a positive; knowing life is changing and deciding what you want and choices you want. Just treat these caring people as a little nudge here and there, to help.... wink wink.

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Day 39 of 365 days of 'What Would Someone Who Loves Themselves Do?' Growing up at 14.

In further attempts to unearth the Christmas stuff more boxes were brought out today. This time it was baby clothing and blankets, along with Girl Scout badges and trolls. I have a lot of trolls and I still get excited to see them. Stashed away quite randomly placed was a binder of poems and letters from when I was 14. When the house was empty I sat in front of the Christmas tree reading old declarations of love, songs I'd written, and music from voice class. There was letters from boys along with some talented artwork I'd received as gifts. What really took me back was reading the letters from my first girl friend. The person I'd had my first french kiss with. 

At this time I was 14 and had just left a level 14 group home. The closest you can get to being a lockdown. After a year there I was celebrating my release. I had glitter all over my face and was running around the cottage I shared with some twelve other kids singing and happy. The counselor called me in and told me alas I was not going home after all the trials I had put up with, but going to another all girls group home.  It was a level twelve in Petaluma. In that moment my heart shattered and I broke out in hysterical tears. Glitter ran down my face. I had felt so betrayed by my mother. I had done my best to behave. I had staff taunting me calling me Vicky Victim in attempts to get me to see how I was thinking. I went to school on this property. I was restrained and put in "quiet rooms" on this property.  I was watched twenty four seven including night shifts. I was devastated I wasn't free from all of this. 

Off to the girls group home. I met my boyfriend at the cottage twin sister. She was a beautiful blonde girl with blue eyes and all the innocence one can have whose parents had already died. I remember her and I barked and ran around the kitchen table once to get a sedative drug called Ativan. This time it had worked, a fun memory amongst the darkness. I decided being good hadn't gotten me anywhere so with my broken heart I would run away on occasion. Once me and a girl snuck out the window during the night running through the orchards until we got to the bus depot. There we met a hockey player in his mid twenties. He bought some beer and the three of us went to his place and drank warm Coors Light. She gave him a massage and I just watched drinking up our freedom. After a while she went into his front yard to throw up and I felt the need shortly after but couldn't manage to purge. We left his property and casually decided to call the cops telling them we were run aways and to come get us. The morning was spent on the floor in front of the toilet attempting to throw up. I still remember the sweet relieve of eating a carrot and the poison all flowing out of me. Never again have I had a taste for beer. 

By now I had figured out the town and was running away on my own. I went to downtown Petaluma and met skater boys smoking pot chilling in the grass at town square. I had so many drugs offered to me, but I didn't take anything. I saw what it did to them and honestly I was afraid of loosing control in a situation I knew wasn't kosher. I went hungry and stole food narrowly escaping as an employee listened to a rapper crackling as I stuffed my face in the bathroom of a grocery store.  At night I would sleep in the city bathroom or on a street curb in a safe neighborhood. I did what I could to stay safe and off the radar. One day a group of us went into the basement of the old theatre. Thats when I'd met Steven. I was 14 hanging out guys 19-25. There was no light cover and as I reached for the switch to begin my descent down the stairs I zapped myself pretty good playing it off as nothing as I took in the spray painted dark walls leading down the stairs in front of me. We sat around on an old mattress while they smoked pot, popped pills, and talked about sex. This is when I learned the penis goes where the tampon does. I told them they were all confused the part that feels good was like two inches above that. I guess I had been zapped twice that night. 

Anyways, before I was kicked out of this group home I met Diane. She was a musician, as I was, and my previous boyfriend. We meshed like butter and brown sugar. One night she came into my room pulling me into the closet for privacy and I had my first french kiss. It was wet and uncoordinated and I didn't feel any sparks fly but that began an intelligent love affair between us women. We wrote poetry back and forth while she played the guitar and I played the base. She called me Jade Eyes and I tortured her with the previously given nick name Princess. We performed in a coffee shop a couple times. I sang Foolish Games in a long silk black dress and played the chords she taught me on the bass. Looking over the letters I could see we were loosing ourselves in each other. Both of us had already come from so much pain we were just doing what we could to distract ourselves from a life of monitoring and counseling, varying staff, their moods and control while we dealt with the issues that landed us in there in the first place. She continued to write me after I was kicked out until one day I received a letter remaining only in my memory saying Jade Eyes I'm over you. Running from this place, or was it the next, had cost me. I left behind an acoustic guitar, an electric bass, an amplifier, my entire music collection and who knows what else. I just wanted so badly to be free. 

The next place was coed. It was a two story large piece of property somewhere near Petaluma in California, not far from the all girls place. By this time the boys I had met on the street wanted to sleep with me and I had got in my mind that if I lost my virginity then they would all leave me alone as I wasn't some rare commodity. This is when I learned I could run my fingers through a mans hair behind the back of a staff member and melt him in attraction to me. I had multiple boys playing for my heart and the letters to show for it. At the time I was using them to find my worth so naive and careless I was then. Looking back on the letters and art I can in each their talent and tortured beauty. I snuck into their rooms because I could, because it was defiant against the rules, and because it was a rush for me and, well, both of us. I attempted to have sex with two different boys and loose my virginity here, both unsuccessful from the pain and their gentle kindness. 

Wild as I was I ran away again. I met the boys in the square, turned down some more drugs, listened to their stories and had fun. In the parking garage of some building I had my first french kiss with a boy overlooking the city. I sat on a concrete slab with his body pushed against me the hormones racing through my body as I considered myself lucky to be with a guy who was 19 when I was 14. When his tongue entered my mouth it was like we had kissed hundreds of times before. It was pure clockwork. I no longer felt self conscious about my ability to attract men. I may have had braces, thick glasses and been a dork but no one knew that. I was an adventurous rebellious prize. Later that day Steven said we was off to Modesto and wanted to know if anyone wanted a ride out there. In a Volkswagen Beatle with three people in the back seat, I laid across them making out with Dylan the man I had first french kissed whom everyone called Pickle. 2 hours we made out until we arrived at a house with two feet of garbage on the floor, rats, roaches and no food. When the lights were turned on things scurried. 

On an uncovered mattress where roaches were moments earlier it was time to loose my virginity. It happened pretty fast. I don't remember a lot. He forced me to suck his dick and after I told him that was it. That night for protection I slept beside Steven the 21 year old who had driven us there. Four of us stayed in this disgusting house starving as I attempted to clean it. I remember getting scolded for leaving food on the counter once as it was immediately covered  by roaches. It was a total waste. My stress rose. On some afternoon Pickle had gone to the corner store in blue Dickies and gotten the shit beat out of him by a gang which gave me relief after how I had lost my virginity. He had left shortly after. Me and Steven now sleeping together lived like we were married for some week before I was hospitalized for sickness. The neighbor had found my information in my things and called my mom. Before this we were friends. She had introduced me to Patsy Cline and her and Steven had attempted to teach me to drive. One night laying in bed his brother burst in. I'll never forget it, he hid a silencer in the closet and jumped out the window. Moments later the light was on, the cops were there apologizing to me calling me mam and I just laid there quietly trying not to give my age as they searched the bedroom. 

Later I heard tales of his brother, even one of how he had fucked a goose and killed it. This really stayed with me out of all the random things unrelated to me to remember. Maybe it was the stress of the situation piling up. I remember one day we were so hungry Steven called Pizza Hut and some company partnered with Taco Bell and like KFC. The deliveries all arrived one by one, even greeting each other on the walkway up to the door. He wrote all three companies a bad check. When we heard the sirens grow loud then stop, we laughed so hard stuffing our faces two houses down. Our aching bellies were finally full. I'll never forget that day. It was a true celebration of twisted joy in the darkness that had become normal. The tales I could tell about running away. When I got sick it was the last time I saw Steven. My mom had picked me up from the hospital and I was sent back to Pennsylvania to live with other family which lasted two weeks before I was returned to my father in Phoenix. I later learned he had gone to jail for a really long time. We found each other on Facebook when I was an adult. A large swastika now tattooed on each arm and a hardened face replaced the person I knew. He wanted to be friends but I told him he scared me. He now has a wife and a baby. 

IMG_8752_2.thumb.JPG.92389dcbfb53cd41d5dfbfb106a28cf6.JPG

Me at 14 with other girls in a group home. 

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Day 40 of 365 days of 'What Would Someone Who Loves Themselves Do?' Moving again.

It was my goal today to process how I felt reliving the age of 14. I waited for feelings to come but I felt nothing. Impulsively I entered the apartment I am to move into to do some cleaning. It’s been my intention to switch apartments from number one to two since July 30 of 2017. This is the official day I changed the address hoping my favorite numbers would be a good omen. 

Two years prior after a heart wrenching break up I had moved from California during Mercury retrograde. My health decreased dramatically despite my obsession with Feng Shui. I had painted every room even the cabinets, cleaned the floors on my hands and knees, put paper on the inside of cupboards. I arranged every corner of my home according to the bagua, careful of the placement of everything assessing the consequences. Despite the many books I’d read on the topic and how many times I had applied this knowledge in each apartment, my life still falls apart every time. Whats irritating, is I can Feng Shui for other people and get big positive changes. It’s a hobby, a lifestyle and I love the idea of arranging things to improve the quality of life. It implies a sense of control over ones fate, the opposite of astrology, which I also love. It represents the stability I have always been desperately seeking without any knowledge of what it has ever felt like

Once I counted how many places I’ve lived in without exaggerating including a few random nights I’d slept on the streets. It was over 60. I’ve moved so many times throughout my life that I’ve always been able to fit everything I own in the car and driving. If shit hits the fan then I would move, or in my teenage years, run away. If my job wasn’t paying enough then I would change it, and move closer to one that did. I guess I never had the self-esteem to really stand up for myself and change things. I’d been raised in an environment where I had no control and that victim mentality just stuck with me. Two years I’ve been in this apartment. The last time I’ve been in the same place for two years my parents were still married and I was barely 11. In January I’ll be 35. 

So as I’m cleaning number two i’m feeling good about getting something done, yet at the same time obsessing over placement of things still hoping for the best Feng Shui avoiding the negative outcomes of years prior. I’m vacuuming and sweeping and suddenly after all these months moving furniture. What hit me later showering was that I wasn’t cleaning to process my thinking. I was moving again. I was running. Instead of taking a moment to be present with what I’d written and sit with my experiences, I cleaned like I’d always done subconsciously hoping to create order in my life, and in my mind by moving my things. This is why I’m a neat freak, it’s what I’ve used to process, my counselor. It’s what I use for security and control, just like my father forced on me.

So here I am in my half naked apartment with a busted TV from Mercury retrograde and all this up heaval of energy sitting here attempting to do a very hard and self loving thing of just sitting and processing. How do I feel about my story? My adult self says this is mine and it’s all I know. I don’t tell it for sympathy. I tell it to share with you, connect with you, and find some comfort. My 14-year-old self now admits holy shit a lot happened this year. I just wanted stability and to be loved without being controlled. I’d run from anything that felt stifling or controlling and still would it’s how I show myself love by standing up for what I believe in and leaving the situation. No one should have to put up with abuse. 

Now, with a compassionate eye, I know the reason this year stands out so dominantly from so many others. It’s because I was separated from my best friend on the same day I was abandoned again by my mother. On this day, after a year and a half of trying to be good in hopes to live as a family again with her, it was tossed away in the trash. With a broken heart, I had given up, and still without the skills to process my emotions, the consequence for my way of coping was shocking, like skin being ripped from duct tape. I learned about adult mental illness, drugs, drinking, sex, what it’s like to go hungry, and what I’m capable of to eat. I got cold, was alone, learned about driving, money and marriage. The adventure in the story is what leads me to tell it optimistically. Whats valuable to me now is I caught myself coping by moving again instead of sitting with 14 year old Emily. It’s probably my most self sabotaging behavior and now for the fist time, I’m understanding it, along with coping through cleaning and my beloved hobby Feng Shui. Now I understand why I do these things. I can almost laugh thinking how much easier it will be sit with myself verses, purging my possessions, changing zip codes, and reading books on where to place my things in order to live happily. IMG_1657.thumb.jpg.4404d3d76a4b1ddb66cf6b93b2fdfa18.jpgThis picture was taken in 2010 after living in Austin nine months. My cat, bless her heart rode with me from WA to TX and back. She wouldn't let me forget her. I'm still packing the cracks here. 

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You go girl. I love Emily's Tale. You tell it like it is and the rest of us sit in awe, wonder, nod and shake our heads at the same time - well I do anyway; all three of me...

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Day 41 of 365 days of 'What Would Someone Who Loves Themselves Do?' How are you doing?

I'm wicked tired. My things are moved into the new apartment, but I remain in the same place. The chemical smells are too much for me. The self loving thing is not to force myself in there. Instead, I'll sell off the new furniture sprayed in formaldehyde and flame retardants and replace it with older pieces that have already off gassed. I was up throughout the night staring at empty walls, twitching, crying from exhaustion, with the worst restless leg. It's deeply frustrating not to be able to sleep when my body feels desperate for it. Finally, around 4am I turned on some 432hz music on YouTube and passed out. I woke feeling hung over only to continue moving. I'm not going to push myself to talk about processing emotionally tonight. It's already 10pm. My head is spinning, and my blood sugar is low. I'm just going to eat some watermelon, watch an episode of Six Feet Under and attempt to sleep.

I will say, I'm continuing the effort to listen to myself when I'm feeling apprehensive instead of pushing through it. I must have done over twenty trips walking back and forth between the two places casually tuning in looking for the source of my uneasiness. I don't want this move to be about running or coping. I realize now I’ve been through such a consistent amount of stress thats its normal. I was also born into a family that values how tough I am, and that means absolutely no whining and very little expression of needs. Turning off my feelings and acting muted became not only became a way of life, but a virtue, and I became an antenna. I was hyper tuned to everyone else’s moods in my immediate vicinity while estranged from my own. Now I'd really like cultivate an honest in depth dialogue based on trust with myself. Instead, Im finding a stubborn child with her arms crossed who doesn’t really have any healthy experience getting her emotional needs met, and consequently doesn’t know how to communicate when she’s feeling vulnerable. It will take more than half hearted attempts for sure. So much is even realizing when I'm checking out to begin with. Is my blood sugar low, or is this overwhelming? My goal is to understand why I feel the way I do in the moment and be kind to myself and supportive. Leaving my feelings in the dark is no longer worth a disconnected unloving quality of life. It’s cold.

feelings-570x380.jpg.a0e9754450be4649698d293cfcbaeb9b.jpg

Edited by toemilyjune
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Solfeggio Harmonics and focus... more than 17 seconds of pure same-thought. Ruddy hard to achieve. Anyway, those relaxing brainwave patterns music is the next-best thing to my singing crystal bowls. (wow, I actually said "my"... when any is more accurate...)... I love listening at night to Solfeggio and to Jonathan Goldman. There are others but this is a good place to start. Besides coming here and getting into my guided meditations, use these sorts of tracks and meditate to the=m. otherwise night-time drifting off... cool-as.

Chemicals: Ups to you EJ - I was never comfortable with that chemical toxic mix you were looking at moving into and being around 24/7. Bum steer if you ask me - where did all that come from anyway - wanting these sorts of chemicals anywhere near you? Is it standard practice for termites or something?

And EJ, just an observation - stubborn child is still scared of being abandoned and so her response is perfectly natural - but, if you think of communication this way... she, via your body, is communicating with you; all the time in fact. It's a bit like listening to a foreign language movie without the subtitles - we try to guess what's said by looking at the gestures and action. Teal's "Silence" Insight may help here - she suggests re-running any episode you like of anybody, even way in the past, but treat it like a movie with Mute button on.
So, Feelings: ON check. Mute: ON check. Sit down and watch the show...
Oh, and look up Metaphysical Anatomy by Evette Rose. There's a Forum Post about this:  Persistent Skin Issues

Edited by Crystal Rob
speed of light

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Hello again!

Have you tried to plan your day by small sections  like 5-10-15 min at a time or hour /two If it's a movie for ex. It was in one of Teal's videos. Don't remember what it was about but the point is to ask yourself what would you like to do next; what would make you feel good(or better) in the next 5-15 min and so on. I still use it today and it has been a life changer and helped me understand and reconnect with my child self.

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1 hour ago, Garnet said:

Don't remember what it was about but the point is to ask yourself what would you like to do next;

It was to do with Soft or Hard option - doing something because you want to, not because you should... I think is how it went.
Light

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7 hours ago, Crystal Rob said:

Solfeggio Harmonics and focus... more than 17 seconds of pure same-thought. Ruddy hard to achieve. Anyway, those relaxing brainwave patterns music is the next-best thing to my singing crystal bowls. (wow, I actually said "my"... when any is more accurate...)... I love listening at night to Solfeggio and to Jonathan Goldman. There are others but this is a good place to start. Besides coming here and getting into my guided meditations, use these sorts of tracks and meditate to the=m. otherwise night-time drifting off... cool-as.

Chemicals: Ups to you EJ - I was never comfortable with that chemical toxic mix you were looking at moving into and being around 24/7. Bum steer if you ask me - where did all that come from anyway - wanting these sorts of chemicals anywhere near you? Is it standard practice for termites or something? It's flame retardants, and chemicals in furniture. 

And EJ, just an observation - stubborn child is still scared of being abandoned and so her response is perfectly natural - but, if you think of communication this way... she, via your body, is communicating with you; all the time in fact. It's a bit like listening to a foreign language movie without the subtitles I like this. Thanks! we try to guess what's said by looking at the gestures and action. Teal's "Silence" Insight may help here - she suggests re-running any episode you like of anybody, even way in the past, but treat it like a movie with Mute button on.
So, Feelings: ON check. Mute: ON check. Sit down and watch the show... Haha
Oh, and look up Metaphysical Anatomy by Evette Rose. There's a Forum Post about this:  Persistent Skin Issues I'm familiar with the book. I'd love to own it. :)

 

2 hours ago, Garnet said:

Hello again!

Have you tried to plan your day by small sections  like 5-10-15 min at a time or hour /two If it's a movie for ex. It was in one of Teal's videos. Don't remember what it was about but the point is to ask yourself what would you like to do next; what would make you feel good(or better) in the next 5-15 min and so on. I still use it today and it has been a life changer and helped me understand and reconnect with my child self.

Thanks for the tip.  I feel if I did that I wouldn't write or brush my teeth. I do see value in this. Maybe its just not the best moment for me to try it. Thanks for visiting the feed. :) Omg enough with the rhyming. I literally can't help it. ;)

 

 

Edited by toemilyjune

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