PTSD Person Thriving and Surviving Daily

You’ve Got This

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

The struggle becomes joy through the frustration.
A teacher reminds me of long-forgotten words of wisdom
that allows the light to appear brighter
and the green greener.
This day, did you notice the abundance of life?
As if it beckons us to recall and welcome all —
even if it feels sad and wrong?
Without the contrast would I even notice Ellie
greeting everyone with a smile
as if she feels our sadness?
Would I tear up in gratitude
listening to the joyful chatter of children?

These are all making a stamp stronger and deeper
than the senseless acts of the confused.
We are strong, resilient, loving, and kind.

I hear, “You’ve got this.”
whispered from afar
and if I allow it,
it stands next to me and feels strong and comforting.

— Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers

It Seems Selfish to Assume I Matter

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

I find it unbelievable that anyone would look out for me
because I feel at times the need to be aware and careful.
But oh how lovely it would be
to trust that there is someone.
And do they need gratitude?
Or can I simply be and know?
It’s a new concept and I doubt as if I need proof.
But wait,
Sometimes the proof shows up in a song
or a greeting
or a delay that misses a collision.
It seems selfish to assume that I matter.
But I know without a doubt that others matter
and I pray for them daily.
Even those that I do not agree with.
A part of me is always looking out for you
May you be safe, happy, healthy, and at peace.
And so it is.

— Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers

Being in Love with Being

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

My breath of love is felt in every movement
and every stillness covered in dark chocolate
Sweet and inviting.
Alone I will not be for I am surrounded in breath
Of every form of life on all dimensions known and unknown.
May my body remember with each breath
the number of times I have been held
and have held others in joy and sorrow.
Not once did I lack for even if I felt alone
I found my breath to be the source
that guides me through the torrential rain,
claps of thunder and brilliant days of cloudless skies
and sunshine that nourishes every ounce of my being.
Being in love with being simply as I am
and loving others as they are
for all are brilliant and worthy of being enough
and knowing they can ask to be held
by that which nourishes and cherishes them always.

Structural Wanderings Near and Far

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

Walking. Searching. Level upon level.
Swirling and twirling. Flowing and going.
Look to the right, to the left, to the right, to the left.
Giving up. Letting go.
Graves deep, markers crumbling.
Long lost. But not forgotten.
Open the door. See the belonging.
Feel the belonging. The sorrow and strife.
Start the ignition. Pay the tuition.
Realize what was once is not more.
Breathe and see without seeing.
There is nothing. Let it be.

— Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers

Let All the Mothers Go

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

Breathe she thought
with grace and gratitude
Dust, let go of the dust
Let go of the mother
So she can let go of her mother
And hers
And hers
And hers
And his
Let go of Mother Earth
So they can call simply relax and be
Without worry
Without fright
And into the night
They sleep a pretty slumber
Where all dreams release
And into the day they step
Step. Step. Step. And FLY
Into the sky
Releasing all
It doesn’t matter
Go. Go. Go.

— Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers

How to See What Is Before Me

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

Stop talking she thought to herself as she sat uneasy
What it before her may be what is askew
Or off to the right, along the gravel shoulder
Imagination comes alive like a store needing to be told
But to see, she simply closes her eyes
And knows what is needed will come forth
Like a fog creeping in during a cold, dark night.
Quietly tip toe through the tulips
In a unique voice we all laugh at
Yet serious and serene
What is before me?
Bright colors of life unfolding
Quiet. Quiet. Quiet.
And strong.
Softly focus
With wiggling toes stretch for the stars and always be bold.

Blooming

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

Invisible with the strength of the unknown
Carried like a child, tender, ungrown
Loved like a daisy in the sunshine in the spring
Tortured no longer under the weight
Let go
Embraced like a dollie given on Christmas day
Forgiven like a cherished wrong
We don’t know what blooms inside us
Until we let go, the get of hell on earth
And learn to laugh once again
Like the tired and delirious told to sleep
when the sun still shines
and the sweetness of the day lingers
like the taste of honey

Be strong in the attempts to bloom
It’s all worth it. Do it. Aho.

— Wendy Who Walks with Wildflowers

Why does the wrong become a place for the light to shine?

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

I read somewhere about struggle and how life is about struggle and what we do with it. My struggles have been something that have gotten me to a place in life currently where I talk to almost nobody other than the man who raped me for decades. What is wrong with me? Why has the struggle to survive gotten me to this place of isolation?

This place in the world is wrong yet right. All the bruises were wrong and the willingness to be bruised was wrong. It’s still wrong yet right. The bruises have transformed into a darkness so deep that the bruises have settled deep within. Resulting in an inability to do anything but hide. When the bruising began, the strength to endure became an obsession. The wrong yet right felt like the sentence given justly. The doors closed and held me tight. The doors opened and allowed the bruising and then the hiding in plain sight. The begging continues deep within and again the begging and pleading for safety is ignored as always. Wrong yet right. Right in ways that show up each morning with the sun streaming in the rapist’s windows. The sun shines on the rapist and joy lifts the rapist in ways that will always be mystifying and strange. Why does the wrong become a place for the light to shine?

The Struggle Is Holy

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

I struggle to love myself daily until I make the decision to align myself with source. And that source I suppose is holy. Even the struggle is holy as I write these words and feel a gratitude for being able to share.
When I love myself it is invisible and not. It’s confusing and I fear that loving myself will only be revealed at the moment that I transition from this world into an unknown. Perhaps it is there that I will be shown that I have loved myself with every breath. It is simple. Profound.

Greeting Grief

~ Wendy ~ Leave a comment

I greet grief with a love deep and strong. One moment at a time in the infinite wisdom that lies within. Be not afraid, I hear whispered in the quiet of the night. Busy myself no longer as the peace that dwells on the mountain tops rains down on me like a gentle spring carrying melted snow. Long ago there must have been a time when we all loved one another and in this moment we embrace and greet that love, acknowledging the grief that resides in our hearts like a welcome guest who gently rocks us as we view the stars. Be gentle. Be kind. Be strong. Be at peace. For there are and always will be the joyful twinkling chimes that play for us near and far.