i want to write about yesterday's therapy session but I may not have the words to fully convey what happened. We were talking about my impatience sometimes and how I can get so tired of waiting that I feel  like a toddler who is screaming I want it I want I want it. And I want it now. And how awful that feels. And that I do have times and have had times when I felt a sense of inner contentment and wonder. So she asked me to close my eyes and go to that place or time when io was a little girl and fully content. What was I doing? Who was I with?

And it all came to clearly. I was about 5-7 years old. In the large fields at the end of the street that had not been developed into housing yet- I called it cowboy heaven and I would go there to look for the ghost of dead cowboys. And it was always wonderful. High grass and the sound of wind and the light catching every dust particle. And sometimes I would hang upside down for a long time and watch the world from this vantage point and wonder what it might feel like to walk on the clouds. And as I described all this I began to cry.

After I had finished talking about it and why I loved that place and time. I asked Lauranell  why it should make me cry and she gently suggested that I don’t let that part of me get accessed as much as she should, that she has so much goodness and spontaneity and wisdom in her and she gets pushed aside.

And later of course I understood- especially in Alabama why I locked her away. She couldn’t get me licensed and build a private practice and make a mark in a social setting that was alien to me. And she was way to spontaneous and flakey to be revealed to the uptight socially concerned southerners.

And now in Portland she is coming out again. Wearing the colorful funky clothes she loves and letting her hair go wild and laughing and playing with kids, and digging in the dirt and sweating and not caring if she is smudged or dirty because fun is messy and who cares what others think? She is hurting no one.

When I went to the JCC- how did that little girl know to ask me what my pretend name is? She saw the aura. The way only young children and animals see the truth. And she knew and so… my homework from my earth goddess therapist of compassion is to work on integrating that little girl back into my life- she was in my life in Colorado and got sequestered in Alabama…. But I need her. She is a passion and a contentment all at once and some of the best of me resides in her aspects. And no I don’t have a dissociative disorder. I am speaking very loosely and goosey. Do dear friends. Relax, I am okay. More than.