Holistic Healing

Integration As A Spiritual Practice – Part III

I had learned to equate being safe with being in charge.

Question 3: What did I learn about life, reality, or existence?

This question is about universal truths, insights about consciousness, purpose, interconnection, love, suffering, and meaning. What really matters, and what doesn’t?

A little background about me: I was the second-born in a family of 9 children who were all born over the course of more than 20 years. I remember peeling potatoes for 8 to 10 people, setting the table for 8 – 10. I remember heated conversations between my older sister and my father, where she provoked his temper relentlessly with her bold declarations that went along the lines of, “Well that’s not fair!” and observations like, “Well that doesn’t make sense, because you just said…” I don’t remember how those conversations ended. Maybe because I left my body and sent my soul elsewhere until things calmed down. The supper table was not a place where I felt safe or invited to engage, much less to express myself. My body stayed in survival mode and I remained vigilant for cues I would need to protect myself and stay in the good graces of my parents.

So for me, the idea of being part of a group where I share myself and negotiate differences in perspective, needs and belonging is moving from the theoretical into real life as I move through my weeks looking forward to sitting around the table with my coffee group family.

I mentioned false starts in the first of this blog series. Some time ago I realized I could tolerate, and even enjoy groups if I was the one leading, organizing or teaching them, because it is easy for me to set and communicate parameters, envision and create group safety, direct the course of a discussion, and switch the focus of what is happening when I sense things are heading down a destructive path, or even a path that I don’t prefer.

I had learned to equate being safe with being in charge.

This is why, when conversations in the coffee group late summer last year led to the planning of preliminary psilocybin test groups, I eagerly volunteered to be a “sitter” who would be present while the most experienced individuals tested dosages and products. I assumed this would make me the leader. From there we began to imagine and prepare, arranging venues, sharing expectations which involved more people, who were naturally excited about the prospect of being involved, and suddenly things started to turn into a very different animal. And I was uncertain what role I would be playing.

Then came the flurry of text messages where I quickly realized that I was not actually the leader of this group. My feeling about the whole thing quickly changed and after quite a bit of prayer and thought, I withdrew my offer. The venue that I had arranged quickly fell through, and the medicine men, who indeed were the core of the group, would need to start planning again, from scratch. And I was not at all certain if I would have any place at all in their future plans.

The tone of our group changed that fall and winter, and the topic was mostly avoided at coffee. I wasn’t certain if the damage I had done could be repaired.

Looking back, I can see how I stepped up with intentions to be a leader where it was not appropriate or desired by the group that I do so. And the Universe showed me, through this somewhat embarrassing and public situation, that it was time for me to allow someone else to assume a leadership position, and I would need to trust them to do it their way. Very new. But also very important for me.

What I’m learning is that for me, the most challenging part of being in a group that I choose to be a part of–and that I’m not leading–is that I do not have control over the timing or much of anything else, and that I have to wait and trust and allow things to unfold in their own time, their own way. I’ve learned that I can actually do this, and that it is well worth the effort when I can. In fact, it turns out to be 10-100 times more fun, in the end, if I can just tolerate the discomfort of not being in charge and allow events to unfold. In other words, to do nothing. And feel.

What did I learn about life, reality, or existence?

I learned that if I trust, wait, put down my checklist, my carefully curated plans, my tendency to be in control, my pattern of being the one in charge in order to feel safe–other people gracefully and appropriately step up. Things work themselves out. I learned that I will receive the guidance I need, and I can open myself to the gifts, contributions, wisdom, beauty and goodness of others. And that when I do this, things become even more fun, more nuanced, more profound, and more impactful for everyone involved.

I learned that whatever I love alone, I love at least ten times more when I collaborate with others. This is true when I am part of a village, when I see myself as someone of value who belongs, when I admit and declare without shame or guilt what I want, when I see myself as someone who can receive support and good things from other people.

It becomes my lived experience that I’m not the only person I can count on. I become a person who knows what it feels like to have all the skills I need to navigate relationships with both men and women who are heart connected, and are in relationship with Spirit and their own Greatness. I become a person whose life is enhanced by this willingness to wait and allow, this practice of opening to the contributions of others and the magic of flow. And maybe most important of all, this feeling of trust and belonging to humanity that comes with the full palette of embodied emotions and the willingness to risk sharing myself that make it all possible.

I am beginning to allow into my experience the awareness that I have been too terrified to risk rejection, and that this fear has kept me functioning as a person who is primarily alone in the world. Nonetheless, it is time for me to take the risk. To let go of control, because if I don’t, I will have missed out on so much. So…

I wholeheartedly desire to be a person who sometimes leads, but more often is supported and led by loving forces beyond my own knowing.

Come back next week for Question 4: What wants to die or be released?

Integrating Psilocybin – Part II

This week, I explore personal insights during a group experience, overcoming initial reluctance. I confront buried emotions regarding grief and trauma, which have led to greater self-compassion. The ceremony facilitated a shift in my perception of men and a reconnection with my creative energy, opening possibilities for deeper relational bonds in the future.

What did I learn about myself?

This week I am answering the second question of the Integration Workbook: What did I learn about myself? This question prompts us to share personal insights, including patterns or behaviors we noticed, wounds that surfaced, gifts or strengths we recognized, parts of ourselves we met, how we’ve been living versus how we want to live. If you haven’t already, you can access the first blog of this series here.

What did I learn? I was reticent to join the circle, or to have this be a group experience, but once I did, I understood that this was where all the gold was, at least for me. I met the part of myself that could howl at the stars, that could speak what needed to be spoken in the circle. I learned that revulsion, distaste, disgust and shock are all part of my experience, that I sometimes have these reactions towards people – both men and women – and that relationships cannot grow if these things are kept hidden inside.

The understanding that I was carrying grief, shame and unprocessed trauma for my dad helped me have so much more compassion for myself. I’m not sure if that was the idea of the mushroom, the fire, or some conspiracy between them both, but it’s what dropped into my awareness. It was a long-awaited gift, and one I’m not sure I could have gained through any other means.

I had been living in a world of women – many who still secretly (and not so secretly) carried the belief that men are not to be trusted and that we have to protect ourselves from them, that we tolerate them, but that they are big, awkward children and burdensome. That what they contribute in our lives comes at a tremendous cost to us, our health, our freedom and our natural evolution toward personal fulfillment. That it is our responsibility as women (and indeed necessary to some primitive survival code) to protect them from their feelings at any cost. And in so doing we offer ourselves up, to serve them just as a drug or any other addictive substance might.

All of that went into the fire. Witnessed by others, who held the space as I exercised the power of my voice, and the energy that flowed through me, under the stars.

The ceremonial circle marked a moment in time when I felt adequately supported to open my mouth. But not so that I could explain myself. Rather so I could free myself. With that declaration, and the days and months that have since passed, I notice a certain shifting of willingness to experience men as people, and some of them are actually turning out to be fun and interesting and potential counterparts and mirrors, offering essential elements of alchemy in my growth and integration – not just of the mushroom ceremony but of my entire life. I also notice a very new ease in my whole body when I consider my willingness to do whatever I need to do to take care of my own needs and follow my own desire, comfort, curiosity. And to make no apologies to anyone about these.

And at the risk of sharing TMI, when I go back to the early part of the ceremony, where I’m lying on my sleeping bag under the cedars, I am able to recall a very physical and gentle awakening in my dantien, maybe it was deep within my womb. I see it now as the reawakening of a fire that has been part of my lived experience, a subject of pleasure and interest as it strengthens, and my relationship with it. Since the ceremony my connection with it becomes more nuanced, accessible and familiar. I believe it to be a reconnection with my own creative life force energy. Desire. It is also, I suspect, an opening to the possibility that I may be able to deepen and enrich my experience, even more, in the company of another – a beloved partner – with whom the desire to share and deepen our knowing of each other lasts over time. For now, I know that I am making great progress at healing and releasing the barriers I have erected against closeness and reciprocal knowing. I am no longer averse to saying that I desire an opportunity to partner with a man, and share relational bonds that endure and deepen over time. I am willing to wait and see what Spirit does with this declaration. And so it is.

Come back next week for Question 3: What did I learn about life, reality, or existence?

Integrating Psilocybin: A Personal Journey of Healing

I’d like to take you along with me as I integrate a recent psilocybin experience I shared with a group of dear ones. With the help of an 8-step integration process called The Great Remembering, I’ll share, in the next weeks, what’s coming up for me. My account is not a scholarly piece, so please hold it gently. I do not claim to be right.

What did I see, feel or experience? After any initiatory process, we have a natural, healthy urge to tell others what happened to us. Here is my story.

We chose March 21, the Spring Equinox to gather in ceremony. Now, almost 4 months later, I can recount the event, and begin to see the medicine it carries, not only as a reflection of the event itself, but for the way it mirrors so many important aspects of my life that I have been noticing and wanting to change in myself.

I agreed to do psilocybin in a circle after a few false starts. I received the invitation from two individuals who have experience and sanction from the Native American Church to dispense various traditional medicines. I have been cultivating friendship with these dear ones over the course of over a year, as we meet weekly for coffee. Incidentally, this coffee group is evidence of my readiness for positive social interactions, though it is quite new for me. Fridays at Dunn Brothers has become probably one of the best group experiences of my life so far. I remember observing aloud, without fear of judgment (after attending for about 6 months) that the feeling was akin to what I’d imagine it would have been like to go to Kindergarten and be included among the kids who were just naturally playful, unencumbered, inquisitive, warm, and genuinely themselves.

The ceremony itself took place in a forested area before the trees had enough foliage to shade us or offer protection from the sun, so we were dealing with sunny, high 80-degree weather at the beginning of the ceremony. The sun quickly descended and before the medicine wore off, there was a need to make adjustments in clothing in order to feel comfortable. This probably accounts for a premature shift back into “normal” consciousness, as I needed to focus my attention in order to access a blanket, jacket, socks.

The “fireworks” and the literal chemical journey were not so novel as to seem transformative visually or kinesthetically. I had chosen a space that had the shade of a couple cedars, away from the physical ceremonial circle. Thinking about journeying with others was not appealing to me, and I had chosen to be alone, with nature. At some point, I had to make my way back to the circle, with some dread, with all my belongings, since dusk was approaching, and I didn’t want to lose my possessions or have to go back into the woods to retrieve them after everything was dark.

Once I made it back to the circle, I was gently welcomed. Each of the journeyers were in their own process of making their way back to post experience awareness. I took some time to remember who was in the circle, and the safety I felt with them, feeling the space that my friends held and the fire that was built soon afterwards, which somehow invited me to use my embodied voice. In the circle, I took every turn I was offered, and asked permission to speak again. I noticed discomfort and at first judged it as inappropriate, as this was a safe group of friends, and judgment, dislike and anything negative did not seem appropriate. Eventually, I was able to accept that this was happening, and spoke gently of noticing and of releasing what I affectionately referred to as “ick.” An ick which was very obviously a heavy residue of negativity that I had inadvertently received from my ancestors and my lineage about men. I physically released these things into the fire. Others in the circle followed by releasing other things into the fire, including what felt to me like masculine anger. This nudged me, once again, to use my embodied voice and release the shame about being angry, the shame about being a man [that I’ve unknowingly carried for all of men and all of humanity]. And the pain I have carried and the self abandonment I’ve engaged in so as to protect men from pain.

In the ceremonial circle, once I found my way there, I allowed myself to feel and name the judgment, distaste, dislike, shock, disgust, revulsion. I allowed myself to name the censorship I was experiencing, the reticence against having or naming or sharing any of these feelings. In speaking in the circle and making offerings of tobacco and lavender to the fire, my revulsion and walls softened and my projections could be seen more clearly and I no longer felt so threatened by the placeholder (I bow to you, Dick) for my ire toward the masculine. Ceremony came to its natural completion and I allowed Dick to help me to my car and make my way home.

In the days that followed, I allowed myself to feel the profundity of what had happened and I felt driven to speak in depth with each of the other journeyers. Part of this processing revealed an ease with men in the larger world, and even seemed to prompt a set of synchronistic opportunities to interact with several men in social settings that I would not have imagined myself doing before. Though it was never my conscious intention, I had somehow built a life for myself that included only women friendships.

What seems to endure, after my psilocybin journey, is an opening to the possibility that I can enjoy friendship with men, ease with and interest in interactions and friendships with other men and an allowing in of men in my life. I continue to track and understand the trance I was under due to the lineage I carried along with my father’s shame and unprocessed trauma and grief. Somehow ceremony has helped me to unload that – with the help of the medicine, a group of trusted friends, an early spring forest, tobacco and lavender – in the ceremonial fire.

Geometric star mandala with zodiac constellations on a dark cosmic background

Our group chose to share in a somewhat structured integration process, and purchased a very reasonably priced guide created by June Cohen, which you can find at FINDTHESTILLPOINT.COM. It’s called, aptly, The Great Remembering.

Prayer – Now More Than Ever

Repost from April 2020

Over time it has become increasingly evident that prayer is the single most powerful tool in my toolbox. For me, there are three aspects to prayer: Gratitude, Asking, and Humility.

You might not think of the first, initially. So let’s look at GRATITUDE. I see gratitude as letting the powers – whatever they are – know that I have noticed and received the abundant gifts all around me. I accept! I delight in them; I take them in. I receive them; they are for me. I feel loved and grateful. I notice all manner of things, large and small, obvious and subtle; straightforward and quirky. These gifts are here, whether I notice them or not. I attribute them to a benevolent force more powerful than me. I let my thank yous flow free and abundant.

The second aspect of prayer is ASKING for what I want more of. Something that is not as easy as it sounds for many of us. Reaching for what our hearts desired was often shamed out of us as children, and it was not in our repertoire to believe that we were worthy of asking God for what we wanted. Therefore, we unlearned to naturally reach for what we wanted or put importance on developing a regular or clear sense of what we liked or preferred. Rather we learned to hope that if we were good enough (not greedy or selfish), God would reward us with all He thought we needed and that was the correct and proper way of it. Nor were we encouraged to know ourselves; to understand what made us uniquely ourselves, and what made our unique hearts sing (beyond merely getting by). This is what we saw our parents doing too. I sometimes attribute this trait to my Puritan ancestors. Make no mistake, it is not normal or healthy; it is a form of intergenerational trauma. But I digress.

I now understand that for so many years my body was too bound up in defenses and unprocessed emotions to ask for what I wanted. And there was the issue of the missing skill set. That is what I am working on now. And I am making beautiful strides. This crucial step in growing one’s self up emotionally involves studying oneself and noticing when they like something. A smile creeps over your face. You feel lighter. You sense that your heart has been flung open. Or there might be a subtle putting down of defenses, a relaxing. A nod. And then taking that one step further, taking the risk to admit, I want more of that, please. Can you help me? For me, that is the third aspect of prayer: HUMILITY.

As I dedicate these days to studying myself, caring for myself and slowing way down in the heart of this God-Only-Knows-What-To-Call-It-Time, I think of The Serenity Prayer, which tells us to ask for the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. This is such an important prayer to be praying at this time. Being confused about what we do and don’t have control of is something that might also have followed us from emotionally impoverished childhoods. It was developmentally appropriate at age seven to believe we had control of things we absolutely did not. Many of us learned that we should try to control things we had no business controlling – other people’s moods, feelings, opinions of us. And without proper role models or any other way to recognize these errors, we entered into adulthood with the toxic combination of unexamined shame and unrealistic expectations of ourselves and others: I am responsible for the bad things that are happening. I am responsible for your bad mood, etc. I should be doing something to fix this. And if I try harder to be what you need me to be, then I might be able to get what I so desperately need.

Wisdom often comes with maturity which comes not just from getting older, but from resolving trauma and releasing hurt from the past. It is what helps us know whether we should accept a thing or fight to change it. And whether it is ours to change.

My wish for you is that you learn to cultivate a prayer practice beginning with gratitude. Pray. Ask for what you want, even if you’re not sure what to ask for. Even when you can’t see how your heart’s desires could possibly be granted. Spend time thinking about what you would rather have. What you want more of, what would truly delight you. Go ahead. Make it detailed, and imagine what it feels, looks, tastes, smells and sounds like when you actually have what you have asked for. Write those things down because they matter.

You are an infinite being of light; one cell in the organism of humanity. And that organism needs you and me to be fully who we are. It needs for us to choose for ourselves what we want. To reach for what makes us shine, what delights us, to bud and blossom into all of who we are, which necessitates kicking into self-care mode, fearless self-attunement. I do this now in order to coax out what I had deemed as my shadow before, but which is actually my Great Self.

Spirit, please let this time be the container I need to study, to know and to nurture my Great Self. Help me to appreciate and cherish Her. Help me to value Her above all else. Guide me so that I can be the person I came here to be, to contribute what the world needs most from me and can only get from me. Guide me so that I can find my way to my tribe, to feel that I belong. To share physical warmth, harmony and deep connection in a supportive family environment, to be part of a whole – a thing of great functional beauty. This family community is the one that gets to usher in a new version of modern life. A more sustainable one, connected to heart and filled with physical and emotional warmth, balance and beauty. Thank you, and so it is. Amen.

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Thank you, Spirit, for putting me in a family of visionaries and healers. Three of the healers and visionaries who continue to inspire me, who never cease to amaze me with the way they use their gifts and talents to make the world a better place, and serve as role models for me, also happen to be my biological sisters. If you don’t already know them, allow me to introduce them to you:

Tracy Barnett inspires me endlessly in her tireless ability to see the bigger picture, to be an advocate for the planet, and for people who are on the front lines making strides toward not just environmental and economic sustainability but regenerative living. She has helped me to add flesh to the bones of my vision of what that kind of life might look and feel like, and that is such a priceless gift. She supports so many in telling their stories that would otherwise go untold. With her magnificent heart and her journalistic spirit, she shows us the world, and introduces us to change makers and wisdom holders. I hope you will check out her Patreon and learn more about Tracy at Esperanza Project. She also studies Aztec Astrology, is part of an Aztec Danza Community in Guadalajara Mexico, and conducts bimonthly interviews for Mundo Holistiko TV on Tuesdays. Watch her Facebook page for alerts.

Tami Brunk Tami’s knowledge of astrology, ancient myths and symbols, dreams, and all the wild things that connect us to and on the planet never fails to knock my socks off. You can follow her astrology oracles on her YouTube channel here or learn more about her work and sign up for her newsletter here. Her Substack will be live later this summer, enroll now here.

She is currently in the process of moving to Substack but hasn’t activated it yet. Stay tuned!

And last, but certainly not least: Trina Brunk has been one of those people who leads by example in her dedication to working on her mental and spiritual well-being, and from this example I have benefited tremendously. Also leading in music, she has branched out into new forms of connecting, and fostering positive change in her community and the world. Affecting change is one of those topics that can get tricky fast, and that’s why it thrills me no end that she is aware of the importance of bringing presence and embodiment to activism.

All of Trina’s albums contain nuggets of wisdom that calm the mind and soothe the soul. But for these times, I especially recommend her latest one, Stop, Drop and Feel, which is what we all need to do when we notice that our systems are in overdrive, and we need to downregulate. These days, Trina refers to herself as “a weaver of songs and other natural fibers.” Her current teacher and muse is the dandelion. You can often find her singing in her garden or with her beloved community for love, justice and positive social change. Check out her new album on Bandcamp here, and here on Insight Timer.

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I have immeasurable gratitude for these three during this time of great transformation and change. If you need inspiration or support on your journey of learning to better care for yourself and/or create a better future for yourself and the planet, I encourage you to check out their offerings for a deeper, richer, more connected reality for yourself and those in your circle.

Repost Note: Since this post’s original publication, I’ve moved to Missouri, where I now live with and play in a community surrounded by my natural and soul family. Prayer really works. I am so grateful. Feel free to reach out to me, or schedule a time where I can help you find the words to ask for what your heart yearns for, or remove the blocks that have been obstructing your reaching for them.

Why Tarot

For me, child development, field dynamics, intergenerational patterns, self-parenting, and the language of empowerment are naturally blending with Tarot, in its potential to help us see who we are as individuals – not through the lens of trauma and our wounds, but through our potential as creative and spiritual beings walking on this planet, during this lifetime.

My entrance point into Tarot was Jessica Dore, a Jungian-influenced social worker. Coming across her book – Tarot for Change: Using the Cards for Self-Care, Acceptance & Growth, and all the deep, helpful content Dore offers there – prompted me to buy my first real Tarot deck. It is the one Jessica Dore uses, the Rider–Waite deck. Before that I had owned random divination decks (which all have their unique and magical qualities, don’t get me wrong), from Angels and Faeries, to Animals, given that the language of dreams, metaphysics and symbols has always been a huge fascination for me. These have proven themselves, over time, to be trustworthy companions when I have been in need of answers, when I ached for deeper understanding. When comfort and reassurance in the form of just the right words weren’t forthcoming from the places others seemed to be getting them: other people, intimate relationships, health care professionals, my logical mind. Most would agree that all of this is innocent and safe enough. Right? A way to use synchronicity to connect with deeper meaning, guidance, and self-resonance. Hardly controversial. We need this. Humans have done this forever.

Then at my Friday Coffee Group last month, a friend happened to bring The Tarot Handbook: Practical Applications of Ancient Visual Symbols, by Angeles Arrien. There it was, lying on the table in front of me, and as I reached for it, I felt another very deep and resounding yes. Encountering this book and beginning to connect with the symbology, the archetypes and the nuts and bolts of using numerology to calculate soul- and personality-level, life-time archetypes, growth symbols, and growth cycles gave me an unmistakable and unambiguous YES, and I’ve been deeply immersed ever since. Now I have new toys to play with in my creative field: the Thoth Tarot Deck by Aleister Crowley and Lady Frieda Harris, and the book that showed up at coffee group on that auspicious day. My friends, I have officially entered “the occult.”

I hope this thrills and delights you, as more of us are working our way out from under the collective spell of Christianity as it shows up in its various destructive forms in the world today. A version of Christianity that has silenced the ancient wisdom and the proper place of the feminine in spirituality for thousands of years. We need that wisdom now more than ever.

In the name of recovery and self-reclamation (and because, luckily, this is my vocation), I have done so much work to understand my infant and child self in terms of the wounds, losses, and hardship because it was the best I could do. And it has brought me a long way in reconnecting with my body and my emotional self. It has been important work, but from here, I can take it so much further.

As I play with the archetypes and the systems the Tarot incorporates, so many things fall into place. So many of my needs are met. How else might I have even thought to ask the questions:

Who was I, besides a poor, forlorn child who got separated from her mother?
What other forces are at play in my development besides the coping strategies I devised to deal with the stresses of my childhood home, and ensure that I had a place there?
What inherent qualities did I bring in? (Long ago I rejected the idea that as children we are blank slates that our parents write upon to shape and form us.)

Tarot can offer us something tangibly essential in the absence of local, in-person communities made up of the grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts and uncles, and neighbors that were always present in indigenous villages. This new game offers us a way to see ourselves from a more universal perspective. When we are born, we come into our human families with inherent qualities. Incarnating allows us opportunities to experience life, including all the ways we contort ourselves to hide our essential gifts and qualities in attempts to fit into our families. With just a little help, we can reconnect with our essential selves. We can unearth and embrace who we really are. Having access to the archetypes and taking advantage of the synchronicity that Tarot offers is a rich and extremely nuanced way to unearth, reclaim and celebrate our inherent selves and our place in the world. Whether it resonates or not is up to us to decide. At the very least, the ancient lore of Tarot gives us a starting point.

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Downregulating the Nervous System – It’s Up To Us Now.

I’ve been wanting to write about this for a while. I’m cold in the house because I haven’t turned the thermostat up yet this morning, and I like it to be cold while I’m sleeping. I’m half packed and getting ready to leave for my mom’s for a few days. My body feels contracted and I’m shivering a little, which also could be excitement because right after my client this morning, I’ll finish loading my car and head for Mom’s. But I’m also excited because on the way, I’m stopping at the music store to buy some manuscript paper. The guy at the store told me it was half price when he mentioned it. I didn’t see it, but he said it was big, because it’s designed to contain the entire score for a whole group – with all the parts – which is actually something I want.

But back to my epiphany. I’m still kind of trembly, and uncomfortably cold, but I don’t want to turn the heater on. I’ll be gone soon. So I put a fuzzy scarf on, I find a comfy place to sit, and I put a soft, warm blanket in my lap. I feel that this calms my body a little, as does putting down my thoughts on paper (This is just too big an idea to carry alone). Here goes: I read the other day that the vagal brake is needed to calm the heart muscle because otherwise it would beat unsustainably fast. I bet that’s a theme that covers many of our organs and systems. It makes me think of the harrowing and novel experience of coming through the birth canal after having spent more or less nine months in the utterly soft and warm environment of the womb. The infant needs help not just in being received, and being clothed and fed. It needs help physically, to acclimate to being a soul in a body. I’m thinking about how mother mammals lick their young and how baby kittens when taken from their mothers too soon can neurotically lick holes in blankets, for example. I even think about mothers licking their babies when they have shit and other nasty things in their fur. This is not just about cleanliness. Our nervous systems need this kind of stimulation to promote normal development; humans are no different. I catch my mind wandering to the sterile, cold disposable wipe that is considered normal to use on a baby’s bottom at a diaper change. And then, by contrast, my mother’s request for a warm wet washcloth that I would go fetch her to clean up, while she attended the baby that had a soiled diaper. And I’m seriously thinking about the difference this has got to make (among countless others) in the experience of an infant human.

This terminology can be a little tricky, so don’t worry if you need to read it a couple times to get it, but Parasympathetic Nervous System Braking is just ‘when your body is in “rest-and-digest” mode, actively calming the stress response (sympathetic system) by slowing your heart rate, lowering blood pressure, deepening breathing, increasing digestion, and promoting relaxation for healing and energy conservation.’

‘The PNS Brake is a crucial “off” switch, signaling safety and recovery after a threat has passed, shifting focus from survival to restoration and well-being.’
– Google AI

All of this to say, that while we are learning to parent ourselves well, we might benefit from knowing that our bodies are kind of geared to be in fight or flight for so many reasons. And if we don’t build in ways of calming ourselves regularly, if we don’t schedule relaxing and calming activities, if we don’t gentle our bodies, we continue to clip along at a rate that we weren’t designed to stay in. And that’s hard on the body. Without the regular return to ‘rest and digest,’ our systems will become stressed, depleted and burdened by toxins, and we will be susceptible to all kinds of things we don’t like (autoimmune disorders, chronic fatigue, high blood pressure, heart disease, arthritis, etc.).

Sometimes our bodies need help of a different kind in order to shift out of fight or flight. This could be especially so if rest just seems totally wrong. We can learn, through trial and error, what the body needs. In such cases, you might need to shake, stomp, punch, run, kick, roar.

Learning to care for the body isn’t a luxury. It’s what we’ve needed from the very beginning. And even though we may have had parents who didn’t know how to help us downregulate at bedtime, or after a meltdown, it’s never too late to tune in now. It may take a while, but over time you can do it. Build a lifestyle for yourself that helps your body actually know it’s important to rest, relax and repair. If you don’t, at some point, you won’t have the choice. And that’s not for the body’s lack of trying.

The question is, are we victims of our body, or are we just having unrealistic expectations of it? Are we doomed with the body’s curse or can we begin to see that there are little things we can do over time to help the nervous system understand that we are actually relatively safe? I have it on good authority that those things are actually kind of nice, and make life deeper, more connected, more fulfilling. How this has escaped modern society is beyond me. But, people, rest is appropriate. It really is. Idleness is a necessary part of being human. Play is called for. Long and luxurious sexual encounters with a beloved rejuvenate and restore. Holding a baby calms you. Having unstructured and non-productive time is essential to a sustainable lifelong routine. Creativity for the sake of expression can reset the nervous system. The body is actually not asking too much. It’s just asking us to understand that we don’t actually benefit from staying in fight or flight – sympathetic (SNS) mode. Our vagal brake engages when we are safe enough and when we do what is necessary to signal to the body that it can actually slow down now. The danger has passed. We made it. We actually survived ALL OF THAT, and lived to tell about it. That was intense, wasn’t it? But here we are.

As I move through my day today, I have a new appreciation for the things I’m learning from my clients, as they all have ideas and experiences about what works to help them calm themselves and what doesn’t. The biggest barrier, it seems to me, is the fact that our culture (including our medical system), has kind of missed the boat on this. So we individuals, one unit at a time, out of necessity, get to figure this out on our own and share it as we can.

What tender little thing are you willing to do to help your nervous system and your body know that it’s actually okay to rest now? What little hack have you found that works? No, an iced mocha latte does not count. JUST NO. Retail therapy? Sorry. Facebook? Probably not. What tangible way did you let your body know, today, that you appreciate what it’s been doing all this time, even while being blamed for everything that frustrates you? Is it time for a reset? I’m fairly certain that it’s not too late. Even for you. Please start today. If you’d like some help getting started, I’d be happy to assist you. Book a session with me, and see what little things you can do to make this big difference in your life.

Are you dehydrated? Are you racing around, too overwhelmed by your to-do list to stop and use the bathroom? What kind of creative expression have you been putting off because it’s not going to pay the bills? Make some time to do one small thing consistently and see what happens. This is not an all-or-nothing proposition. It is small gestures sustained over time. Follow comfort. Not numbness. Follow pleasure, not self indulgence. Study yourself. You can find the difference. And you are totally worth it, as you have been all along.

Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

My New Favorite Book

The collicular self has the power to turn to something or turn away from it without our awareness of that ‘decision.’

Learning More About the Brain (some very basic basics in 3 parts)

This is the second of several posts I’m making in attempts to digest this really important read. Here, I’m breaking down some new brain info.

Subcortical Brainstem Structures Involved in Immediate Responses to Traumatic Events

1) Superior Colliculi WHERE	2) Periaqueductal Gray WHAT	3) Locus Coeruleus SHOCK
A multisensory integration center, registering novelty in the visual, auditory and somatosensory fields. Coordinating immediate orienting behavior.	Involved in the generation of affective (e.g., panic/grief, rage, fear and defensive (e.g., fight, flight, freeze) responding.	A noradrenaline system with diffuse projections across the cerebral cortex. Heavily involved in arousal and attention. Signaling extreme levels of volatility.

Orienting to WHERE

One of the first things we are being asked to learn in order to deliver DBR therapy is to help our clients locate a central place in their being from which they sense the world and know where they are in it. Anatomically, this place is represented by a brain structure called the Superior Colliculus. It sits on top of the periaqueductal gray, about which we will go into deeper detail later. It looks, maybe, a little like this:

Midbrain and Upper Brainstem Component of the WHERE System, the Superior Colliculus – This is an orienting structure which “has sensorimotor capacities for effecting inquisitive, acquisitive, and protective responses in relation to the unknown.” (pg 6)

“The collicular self has the power to turn to something or turn away from it without our awareness of that ‘decision.'”

I’m making mental notes here that the Superior Colliculi (Pg 16):

Serve as an integrative hub for mapping the self in space
Receive information from the retina, spinal cord and cerebral cortex
Orient to what is unexpected and novel about the world around us

“You have a sense of your body’s position – how the limbs, torso, neck, and head are placed – and how you are gently held in your chair by the earth’s gravitational field. You are in the place where all this information comes together. This ‘collicular perspective’ is the integrative hub from which your attention radiates outwards to illuminate space with your awareness. Before identifying what you see or hear, you are first aware of WHERE.“

As academics and psychologists, we have long been witness to mixed responses from youngsters and adults alike who are both attracted (compelled to attach) to someone because they represent the very things they need to survive, but at the same time are compelled to escape because they elicit great fear or confusion. This same disorganized response is the domain of the Superior Colliculi, as it turns out–at the micro level. It’s where those opposing orientations begin.

Opposing orientations have important implications for how we understand the effects of interpersonal stimuli that are both a source of nourishment and threat. (Pg 23)

“Horrific experiences activate simultaneous forces of attraction and aversion beyond our control, resulting in an entanglement of orienting responses.” (Pg 24) And this is what DBR is uniquely suited to do. To slow the process (social interaction) down enough so that these opposing orientations can be witnessed, held, and worked out by the body, with the help of a safe objective witness, once and for all.

The WHAT – The Generation of Affective and Defensive Responding

Midbrain Periaqueductal Gray (the primary structure for the WHAT response system) – our defenses: fight, flight, and freeze, and our affects: fear, rage, and panic/grief arise from this brain structure. The periaqueductal gray has a role in active and passive defense responses and their associated autonomic nervous system changes. (Pg 6)

It is sweet to have a real basis for knowing and discussing the fact that deep somatic and visceral pain of interpersonal origin actually exists. We can know this now because of the machines that are indeed measuring it as we write and read this, and the scientists who are formulating these measures. We can also know that others are, in fact, investing their academic careers to studying the behavioral relevance of such pain.

It’s reassuring and validating to read descriptors such as “social rejection” in scientific journals. Even though few of us, outside the field, have given much thought about the moment by moment, day by day, year by year interpersonal events from the perspective of our newborn, or infant self. Or that in our parents’ or grandparents’ generations infants were thought not to actually have a self, feelings or memories. An infant’s perspective might not occur in words, but it most certainly endures in the form of somatic memories.

A behavior researchers call “withdrawal” refers to what subjects do, behaviorally, upon experiencing a social loss. Social loss, they say, activates “PANIC/GRIEF systems, related action tendencies of fight (confrontation), flight (socially evasive behaviour), and freeze (social anxiety).” (pg 44)

Characteristics of the Periaqueductal Gray Columns

SHOCK – A Noradrenaline System with Diffuse Projections Across the Cerebral Cortex

Originating at Pons level in the midbrain, the Locus Coeruleus – Heavily involved in arousal and attention, the Locus Coeruleus signals extreme levels of volatility.

Stay tuned for more of my processing of this lovely piece of scholarly work. If you are a counselor or therapist supporting clients with trauma and/or dissociation, or think you might have experienced early relational trauma, I highly recommend that you read it for yourself:

Deep Brain Reorienting: Understanding the Neuroscience of Trauma, Attachment Wounding, and DBR Psychotherapy, by Frank M. Corrigan, Hannah Young and Jessica Christie-Sands

The Tarot of Tuesday’s Emotions

I was indulged with several readings at a coffee shop on Tuesday morning by a gifted friend in JC who is studying tarot. The reading I’m going to talk about here is a 5-card Life Purpose spread that is telling me a lot about emotions, which is delightfully aligned with the Constellations topic for Winter 2025. Here goes:

Card #1: II Wands (Reversed) – This position in the spread signifies how I’m really doing right now. The fact that it’s reversed tells me something about surprise, wonder, enchantment, emotion, trouble, and also fear. What Jessica Dore says about it in her book, Tarot for Change, is that this card has to do with staying stuck in a wrong situation to avoid the disappointment of something not living up to what my fantasies about it were. It’s about how one walks away from such fantasies, and back into flow; into what really is. The two wands represent a doorway of sorts. Each wand, or staff, represents an aspect of this particular moment in time. One staff rests on a battlement (war, suffering, chagrin), and the other is fixed in a ring (riches, fortune, magnificence). The picture is worth a thousand words. The man in the image holds a globe in his hand, and he’s standing in front of a stunning vista that is apparently his domain. Will he focus on the replica or the real thing?

Card #2: VI Swords (Reversed) – This position in the spread signifies what I am really good at. The fact that it is reversed speaks of declaration, confession, and publicity (proposal of love). According to Jessica Dore, this card is about breaking old patterns, which involves being honest about how I may be actually choosing things that bring me suffering and connecting with the fear that lies at the heart of that choice. This requires that I be willing to do what’s necessary to bring my attention to the emotions that I have for so long avoided (with good reason). This exact location, Dore says, is where the pattern can be broken.

She compares what happens in this realm as “driving a bus of monsters toward what matters to me.” The huddled figures on the raft that is crossing the water could represent self doubt, self criticism, feelings of inadequacy. The card, she says, points at the act of moving through inner obstacles on our way toward what is personally meaningful. Hell yeah. I’m good at that. That’s what I do. “Fear is not just a thing to be tolerated, but in fact an indelible part of living in alignment with what’s precious.” “Fear is the cost of admission.” Accepting fear as part of who I am, my mantra moving forward could be: I am willing to take a new route if it’s a better one. I am willing to grow.

Card #3: King of Cups – This position in the spread signifies what my purpose is, right now. (It is not reversed.) This card showed up in several places during the morning reading extravaganza, and each time it was upright, which tickles me no end. Cups, it appears, have to do with emotions. And as I well know, emotions appear to defy logic. Dore says that the cups suit is about delineators. “To understand water is to give oneself over to its currents, instead of trying to put it into containers with labels.” This card signifies, she says, that we’ve talked and reasoned and prepared enough, and now it’s necessary to drop into the water itself. And according to this spread, this is my purpose, right now. Go figure.

“People in cultures all over the world in geographic isolation from one another have generated and told stories with motifs and characters that echo or resemble one another since time out of mind. Queens belong to the realm of imagination while kings belong to the domain of will. But for King of Cups – King of Imagination – will looks different.” Here we see a more receptive application of will, or active acquiescence. So my mantra might be: I am prepared and ready to do what is required in order to accept and stay afloat as the waters rise. Luckily, the card tells me that I have the competence to find resolution where others have been unable to.

“Emotions are often passed down through generations until they reach someone who has the right set of resources and abilities to resolve them. Clearing a space for them to emerge, unfold, and find full expression.”

“The King of Cups protects the rights of emotions to have and experience the full cycle of life: to be born, to have a safe space to fully express and to die, eventually.” Emotions have a beginning, a middle, and an end (unless, of course, we clamp down on them to keep them from moving through, or otherwise repress them).

“Knowing this helps us to become willing to actually feel what we feel. Humans can endure more pain when they know it’s time limited.”

“This is the way an emotion makes its way out of an individual, out of a family, and ultimately out of a bloodline. And so if you are feeling something big and deep, consider your kingship.”

My takeaway from this card: I have the tools and temperament to usher the thing through once and for all, and this is actually my purpose now.

Card #4: II Swords (Reversed) – This position in the spread signifies whatever might be getting in my way. The fact that it is reversed speaks of Imposture, falsehood, duplicity, disloyalty. Swords are the domain of thought. I have long been aware that I rely heavily on my mind. This card tells me that I can use my intellect to my advantage and that I have skill at this. But it also signifies that it is my mind that can get most in my way. Fears of imposture, duplicity, disloyalty. Working with this card demands that I continually examine which thoughts I give weight to, and which ones I choose to speak out loud. It asks me to be exquisitely aware and present when I speak about who I am and what I desire right now. This has been a particularly important aspect of my life right now, as my identity shifts and morphs as I step more fully into these roles in my life that acknowledge and honor even more of me. Dore also points out that this card is about honing knife skills, which involve cultivating a bit of cunning.

In staying in contact with what one knows to be true, Dore says, sometimes you need to lift your head up, roll your shoulders back and act like you know. Here’s an interesting line from this chapter: “I’m too scared to admit what I know, or to do what knowing requires of me.” And keeping the blindfold on (not making a decision) can be protective when it’s not the right time to make a choice.

“We form an alliance with ourselves by choosing narratives that are supportive and empowering rather than disparaging. If you wouldn’t describe a friend who was hesitating to act on what they know to be true as ‘confused’ or ‘lost’ maybe don’t talk about yourself that way either.” I really appreciate this.

Card #5: Ace of Cups (Reversed) – This position in the spread signifies how I can love myself so I have the energy to fulfill my purpose. The fact that it is reversed speaks of mutation, instability, revolution; House of the false heart. This card was exactly what I needed during this time, as my focus is on emotions; on seeing and dealing with them newly. I have not known my emotions well enough to name them, much less to be true to them, but I am willing to grow from here. It is the work of a lifetime, making good enough friends of our bodies so that we can access what is alive in us in the moment.

Ace of Cups represents “House of the true heart, joy, content, abode, nourishment, abundance, fertility; Holy Table, felicity hereof.” In this chapter, Dore talks about how psyche is something we exist within – it’s bigger than our physical body. She points out what mystics have known for centuries, that internal and external life are linked. As this card shows up in a spread, it might be asking, What is my environment expressing through me?

This card is also linked to the High Priestess, and the practice of contemplation (as the creative process of coming into dialogue with other forces such as emotions). Breaking down the roots of the word contemplation, she points out that “The prefix con-, meaning ‘with,’ tells us that it’s a collaborative process, and templum, the Latin word for temple, connotes a sacred space where a deity was believed to reside.” And so to contemplate is to engage in spiritual dialogue, which, like all dialogues, is going to involve both speaking and listening.

This card encourages me to slow down enough to listen. “What you’re listening for might be an invisible force, like that of helping spirits, energetic currents, or a Higher Power. Or you could be listening for something concrete, like a river over rocks, birdsong, a groundhog’s rustle through high grass. This way of being in a receptive relationship with what surrounds us seems difficult for modern people of the West to understand. We think in terms of the individual, the hero, the character who performs tasks and overcomes obstacles.

“But the cups, in addition to being emotional, are also symbolic of a certain receptivity, as a cup receives water. Receptivity implies relationship and asks us: What would a more relational way of engaging with our surroundings look like? What would happen if we reoriented the imagination toward a way that sees the self both as dreamer and that which is dreamt?

“Could we make room for the possibility that what we feel and experience in the flesh house of the body is not always rooted in a private individual experience, but comes from an ecosystem to which we belong? What if, for example, rather than seeing ourselves as taking a walk through the woods, we see ourselves as being a wave of energy rippling through the consciousness of a family of redwoods? How would this change the way we move through the environments we dwell in? How would it change the way we relate to our experiences?

“Emotions are how we understand our raw experiences, not in an evaluative or judgmental way as with intellectual understanding but rather as an intuitive, felt, cellular-type knowing. The trick – and what’s taught in many behavioral therapies – is learning to suspend action for long enough that this kind of knowing can move through us.

“In her Dear Sugar column, Cheryl Strayed once advised a reader, ‘Don’t own other people’s crap.’ And I’ve thought about that a lot over the years. To understand the cups suit, we have to get clear on what aspects of our experience even fall into the realm of ownership. For example, my behavior is something I can ‘own’ or be accountable for, while other people’s behavior is not something that I can or should. But with emotions, it’s not always clear who ‘owns’ them. I’ve woken up heavy with the boulder of my grandmother’s grief on my chest, breathed deeply while sweating from the fire of my mother’s rage, and I could say, ‘That’s theirs, not mine,’ if I wanted to, but what good would that do? Emotions are living energetic currents with life cycles of their own. They tend to survive down the vertical and horizontal lines of human relationships – through generations, through communities – until they arrive to the place where they can be fully experienced and expressed. That can take a while.”

I’d better stop before I owe Jessica too much for using her material, but I think you get my point. My reading was a blessing, as is Jessica Dore’s Tarot for Change: Using the Cards for Self-Care, Acceptance & Growth. Maybe I’ll put you in touch with my tarot reader friend, too, if you want. She’s amazing.

I’m on Retreat

and I’ve told many people that I’m taking time alone. I explored a niggling worry back in the deep recesses of my mind about whether I was making best use of this time; taking my retreat seriously enough. So far, the answer is a deep and resounding YES. It’s felt divinely guided. It doesn’t appear that anyone (ethereal or visceral) wants to punish or even scold me for sidestepping my isolation for an evening with friends and family the first day or driving to St. Louis to be with a friend getting medical results on the second. I’m thanking my lucky angels for all of it. It’s all as it should be. The sunshine warmed me as I ate my Ethiopian leftovers (yesterday). Today I put the finishing touches on the wonky tarot reading we didn’t finish on Monday. This morning I’ve typed up the notes I wanted to share from Sarah Peyton’s hardback book. Feel free to check that out here. It’s just so juicy, so relevant and so comforting. I finished reading Your Resonant Self Workbook, in bed yesterday morning. I hiked to the creek at the bottom of the hill twice yesterday, the second time with paper and matches so I could build a fire, sit back and read from another great book.

In a nutshell, here’s the tarot reading. I drew 3 cards from a traditional tarot deck and am referring to Jessica Dore’s book Tarot for Change, with some of my personal story interwoven.

4 of Cups – Throughout my young life, I had been resistant to taking the good stuff that was being offered to me. Somehow I couldn’t see it. I was too hurt and sad and angry.

9 of Cups Reversed – wish fulfillment, contentment, victory, success. Reversed it speaks of Truth, Loyalty, Liberty. To accept what we want requires us to also accept the pain of not having it. This card is asking me to articulate my desires from THAT place. This retreat is the time to turn inward and care for feelings I haven’t had the courage to look at before. What do I want to acknowledge and validate so that I can heal and grow beyond it?

As a 22 year old I just wanted what I was taught to want. So as a married adult woman, living with a husband and a child for 4 and 2 years, respectively, I was entering a place where I had to decide who I really was, and what I wanted from my life. As an 18 year old, I hadn’t been able to imagine anything else but being a mother and a homemaker. But that wasn’t working out so well. As my then husband complained, I was just so predictable. My higher self was urging me to try something else. And so I did. Boy have I learned a lot about desire since then.

Words of compassion from Jessica Dore: “Not knowing what you want is often rooted in things that weren’t your choice and aren’t your fault.”

It’s okay if I’m still trying to figure out who I am and what I want. It’s okay if I’m still learning to make a good wish.

4 of Pentacles – Crowned figure, Pentacle over the crown. Clasping another pentacle over the heart. Pentacles under both feet. Holding very securely that which I have. (knowledge, concepts, ideas). Pentacles in general signify physical behavior.

Jessica Dore looks at this card through a different lens: “Transcending and accepting limitations or blocks through the physical body. Moving stuck energy through the body via breath and gaze with gentle curiosity, not force. Reframing and perspective shifting = storytelling. When we relate differently to something, we tend to behave differently around it. Stories don’t mirror life, they shape it.” – Mary Van Hook, a social worker

The simple fact of identifying a block means movement is happening. Hitting a wall is not a bad thing. It helps you know that you need to find a door or a window by changing course slightly or drastically. Or dig a tunnel.

Calling something a block or a limit or a challenge “is a protest in itself, a statement or declaration that you’re not okay with being contained in this particular way and you most certainly do not plan to shape a life around some limitation that really doesn’t need to be there.”

Learning to live in harmony with blocks. My body has areas of stuckness and limitation. Which attitudes and narratives are most effective for clearing blocks? And for learning to live better with them? The pentacles at the crown block awareness. The pentacles at the heart block connection and understanding. The pentacles at the soles of the feet block action.

“With any kind of block, the first task is to be present enough to notice that it’s there – whether it be physical, behavioral, energetic, emotional, or psychological – rather than either avoiding it altogether or trying to muscle through it.”

It’s not dangerous to investigate blocks. But when I do it, I need to do it with gentleness, giving myself full permission to back off anytime it gets to feel like too much.

Noticing the block is something to celebrate. That’s when I know I’m ready to do the work.

Poke around. Find the malleable parts. The parts that have some give. Where transformation can happen, little by little.

Super excited to see what the rest of my retreat will bring. I’m here until Friday!

Tarot Reading for Today

This spread perfectly describes my takeaway from a recent Constellations Circle. Absolutely love Jessica Dore’s Tarot for Change

Six of Cups The intellect sifts out what is true; the will reaches out for what is good. But there is a third dimension to reality: Beauty. Our whole being resonates with what is beautiful. When we experience beauty, we start to speak about emotions, and the more we are touched on an emotional level, the more we seek to celebrate the experience, and it’s there that we begin to create ritual. Benedictine Monk David Steindl-Rast writes that all rituals have to do with, and celebrate, belonging.

The tenderness of the image on the Six of Cups cards tells a secret.

What if, all I’m trying to do here is to create rituals that have the potential to mark, preserve, and facilitate a return to emotional experiences that are sacred to us?

To feel safe is sacred.

To be soothed is sacred.

I am a lover of beauty and belonging. I am a lover of deep emotional resonance. I am just trying to recall some sacred feeling.

I am exploring new ways to recall those feelings – and new rituals for feeling safe and soothed.

Page of Wands: Childlike Enthusiasm, Innocence, Wonder, Youth. Knowing absolutely what I like and don’t like. According to James Hillman (along with Bert Hellinger): We each come into the world with a calling.

There is something (apart from nature/nurture) unique about each of us – a part of our being that is connected to our “daemon,” which was similar to the Roman concept of genius: Something that you are, that you have, that is not the same as the personality you think you are.

Mythologist Martin Shaw: as adults, too many of us have become “heavily defended against experiences of our own beauty.”

What do I love?

What captivates my attention?

What grips me?

What lights me up? What claims me?

Invitation to reconnect with something raw and original within us, something many of us relinquish as we cross the threshold into adulthood.

My specific calling is never far from reach.

Wands show me how to protect the spark and keep it safe so that it can warm me, and also warm whole villages.

Nine of Cups

Values Clarification. If I’m going to do the hard work of change, what will make it worth it? A life compass. Am I moving toward or away from what is precious?

Knowing what you want is deceptively challenging.

Exploring what we desire can be hard because:

Often the physical reality of our lives doesn’t line up with what we desire.
- To accept what we want requires us also to accept the pain of not having it.
Identifying what’s personally meaningful and articulating desires from that place is often in and of itself a whole healing process.
Making a wish sounds like fun until you realize you have no idea what you want. Until you realize you’re not even sure what it feels like to truly want something and are not convinced you’d know it if you felt it. This experience of finding a void where a wish ought to be can be profoundly distressing.
Not knowing what you want can bring up shame. “I’m 60 years old. I should know who I am by now.”

Making a wish might be hard because:

Your feelings were constantly invalidated, so you don’t trust your own sense of what you like and long for.
You’ve experienced a lot of frustration trying to get your needs met in life, which makes it difficult to want to try. Feeling hopeless about or quickly shutting down anything you have an inkling of really wanting is how you’ve learned to feel safe.
The people you relied on in childhood were unpredictable or erratic, so you developed the skill of scanning and tending to other people’s needs at the expense of your own needs as being necessarily dictated by the needs of others, so it’s hard to untangle them.
You developed a protective strategy commonly known as perfectionism, which means you organize your life around avoiding contact with any potential indications of being inadequate, defective, or unlovable. Wishing for or trying new things is a direct threat to that defense.
When you were growing up, no one around you had any coping skills, so you didn’t get any, either, and instead you carry an intense fear of the feelings that come with wanting something and not getting it. Fused with a belief that those feelings are unmanageable, the stakes of having a true wish are simply too high.
A heart’s desire sprouts from a sense of self that’s sturdy enough to have preferences independent of external factors.

There are so many factors that go into the maturation of a budding sense of self, and probably infinite ways to botch it, so even though adolescence is technically the time when we are “supposed” to be doing the work of figuring out who we are and what we like, there are enormous swaths of us doing it in all decades of life. And we’re often doing it not just once but over and over again as the conditions of our lives change, and with them, our wants and needs.

Sometimes, learning to make a good wish is the work.

Credit goes to Jessica Dore, author of Tarot for Change: Using the Cards for Self-care, Acceptance and Growth