Recovering from the Holidays with EMDR
by Constance Wilkinson
Sure, we all love the ho-ho-ho-holidays. Even though we know we may be triggered by them, we go charging straight into them anyway, replete with festive food, festive lights, shiny wrapping paper and decorations, bright lights, chocolates and all, hoping for the best, fearing the worst… and winding up afterward with a mildly traumatic smattering of both. What else can we do?
We can prepare for the usual roundup of holiday stressors by making a plan of action before anything happens, or we can just let whatever happens, happen, sort of Zen-like, and deal with it after the holidays are done.
Certainly by New Year's, whatever could happen has happened, and we are left to deal with the end of year detritus. We move on and make our New Year's resolutions. But what will those be?
Sometimes the road forward begins with a road back, taking the road less traveled, as poet Robert Frost said, and that making all the difference.
This time of year is a time for reflection, and for making changes grounded on what we let ourselves notice, letting one part of ourselves notice some things that another part of us might really rather not see.
From Publisher to Medical Intuitive...
by Gillian Drake
… but wait, that sounds like someone else's story—Carolyn Myss, I think. It happened to me too, though it's still hard for me to believe.
When I look back, I see it's been a journey that started 20 years ago, when I discovered I had chronic fatigue and realized it was up to me to heal myself.
I embarked on a rigorous regime, radically changing my diet and lifestyle and reading everything I could get my hands on about health and diet. It worked and I felt fantastic. Back then, I was focused on publishing deadlines; getting myself healthy was important so that I could keep up my punishing schedule.
Then a dozen years ago, quite by chance, I accompanied a friend to visit Dede Dunbar, a gifted psychic who lived in Brewster.
The Center for Change
Instructed by Courage
by Linda Posage
It was 4:27 a.m. at the end of June, and the first heat wave of the season was finally winding down on Cape Cod. Cooler air was circulating up the stairwell and into the stuffy bedroom where I lay listening to Joe's rhythmic snoring, the drone of the ceiling fan, and an enthusiastic bird solo announcing the break of dawn.
I had every reason to get out of bed: writing deadlines, a yoga class at 7:15, heck- I could throw a load of laundry in and get that out of the way. But most pressing was a task I was completely unfamiliar with and utterly intimidated by because it involved praying for a dear friend… a friend whose story could have been mine.
Kathy O'Keefe Kanavos, a two-time cancer survivor, responds to your many concerns about Cancer.
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