Saturday, July 28, 2012
Just Love Me
Heart
stopped. Frozen tears. A sob stuck forever in lungs. Big eyes. Lips
tremble. How many times can a heart stop & restart? Silent plea.
Please love me. I am broken beyond repair. Love me. Pummeled pieces
sweep clean to make new. Please love me. Hidden. Watching. Scared.
Please. A small whimper. Please no more hurt. Just love me. Final words
spoken only through big eyes. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Slow, Steady, Safe, Sure
If we can just let go and trust that things will work out they way they're supposed to, without trying to control the outcome, then we can begin to enjoy the moment more fully. The joy of the freedom it brings becomes more pleasurable than the experience itself. ~ Goldie Hawn
Enjoy the journey. Actually, the journey is all we really have. The destination is death, at least for this lifetime. So, why would I want to unnecessarily hasten the ending? This can be a useful metaphor for most things in life, too, if it is not overdone or overblown. Somethings need a slow and easy enjoyment to get the fullness of the experience. Other things do need sped up to catch the important part(s) in time. The skill is in knowing the correct timing for whatever is in front of me. For example, I want to take a nice slow pace in kneading the dough for my bread, but I want just the right time to get that same bread out of the over before it burns. I think I will not talk about the trials and errors along the way to learning the right timing for both parts except to say that I am still learning despite being somewhat accomplished at bread-making by now.
Well, I know this timing and the relaxing into enjoying the journey moment by moment is vital for me to enjoy pleasure of any kind, but especially any part of a sexual encounter. If I cannot relax, I cannot enjoy much. In fact, the feeling of pressure from any source whether it be from within me, from my partner, or from outside circumstances will disconnect my ability to relax and to trust enough to enjoy much. This does not mean that the pace cannot be quickened at some point some times. But, trust cannot be sacrificed ever, or my whole being will shut down and shut out the partner and the experience. At that point, it might be better to try moves with a crash test dummy than with me. In fact, pressuring after I shut down could lead to a lot of painful consequences all around.
However, when the pace is right and the trust is there, magic is almost guaranteed. So, it is worth the effort and all the practice lessons along the way.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
To Hold All Sacred, The Basics
In my lifelong effort to heal and to be whole, I learned many things
and had to keep unlearning, re-learning, exploring, observing,
contemplating, discerning, naming, learning more, and then repeating the
whole process over and over. Because of extended terror from the
beginning of my life, I have also had to learn how to come out of the
frozen, foggy, unlit, and hidden places in the world around and inside
me. Shall I just say the process is not boring (not even sure I know
what that concept feels like) nor is it easy (a vast understatement.) I
did have some important help from the beginning and along the way among
which included a feisty, fiery spirit full of wonder, curiosity,
intelligences, and an enormous love despite all.
Some of the important lessons I learned from infancy onward was to look for the whole thing and not just part, to keep checking the foundational or roots of whatever I was dealing with or building, to measure and re-think the measurements at least three times before making a cut or a move, and to keep learning more of the meaning of love, respect, and honor and how to apply them. So, from my baby mind until now, I took my lessons to heart and one of the practical results was that I learned and keep learning that life is a vast lesson in making love and that physical sexual joinings were a very small but important part of the whole life. Also, physical sexual joinings included but were not limited to coitus but included myriad variations on what relationships of any type could be. Also, I learned in the most traumatic way possible about the evil misuse of any part of this whole thing. And so, I am still healing and learning. I discovered that all of us are as well, so I am not alone.
My life motto for decades has been "hold all sacred." That sacredness is a profound respect and honoring so needed in, to, and from me. Due to the nature of all I needed to heal from, I have been mostly alone even in the midst of crowds. My nature and habit is to be usually very quiet, but I do have great spurts of talkativeness when the mood and opportunity are present. And, despite all, I still love humans...even those who have hurt me the deepest. I somehow knew that hearing their true stories were a part of my healing. So, I yearned to hear. Part of that includes a hearing of all points of view. Hearing to me means a deep, focused listening to the whole message of the "other" - to all (human, non-human, living being but non-animal, non-living being, all - all means all.) Until I hear what you are trying to tell me, I have not heard you, in other words. And, I want to hear you.
This hearing is such a big part of love-making that it surpasses and encompasses the whole experience, in my opinion and observation. And, to me, all is love-making in one way and another. Once fully heard, ecstasy is there ready for explosive joy in all directions. Joy, love, healing, and wholeness? What's not to love about this?
I want it all.
Some of the important lessons I learned from infancy onward was to look for the whole thing and not just part, to keep checking the foundational or roots of whatever I was dealing with or building, to measure and re-think the measurements at least three times before making a cut or a move, and to keep learning more of the meaning of love, respect, and honor and how to apply them. So, from my baby mind until now, I took my lessons to heart and one of the practical results was that I learned and keep learning that life is a vast lesson in making love and that physical sexual joinings were a very small but important part of the whole life. Also, physical sexual joinings included but were not limited to coitus but included myriad variations on what relationships of any type could be. Also, I learned in the most traumatic way possible about the evil misuse of any part of this whole thing. And so, I am still healing and learning. I discovered that all of us are as well, so I am not alone.
My life motto for decades has been "hold all sacred." That sacredness is a profound respect and honoring so needed in, to, and from me. Due to the nature of all I needed to heal from, I have been mostly alone even in the midst of crowds. My nature and habit is to be usually very quiet, but I do have great spurts of talkativeness when the mood and opportunity are present. And, despite all, I still love humans...even those who have hurt me the deepest. I somehow knew that hearing their true stories were a part of my healing. So, I yearned to hear. Part of that includes a hearing of all points of view. Hearing to me means a deep, focused listening to the whole message of the "other" - to all (human, non-human, living being but non-animal, non-living being, all - all means all.) Until I hear what you are trying to tell me, I have not heard you, in other words. And, I want to hear you.
This hearing is such a big part of love-making that it surpasses and encompasses the whole experience, in my opinion and observation. And, to me, all is love-making in one way and another. Once fully heard, ecstasy is there ready for explosive joy in all directions. Joy, love, healing, and wholeness? What's not to love about this?
I want it all.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Shedding More & More Shame Daily
It is only lately in my life that I have begun to realize that size,
ability or challenges, appearances, and a whole host of other more
physical things do not make or hinder desirability, sexuality,
sensuality, or even likability. Yes, there are stigmas, bigotries, hate
crimes, and other despicable cruelties we humans do do to each other
based on real or contrived differences. And, the harm is horrendous. No
escaping that terrible fact. Nor can I escape the damage done through
years of terror, abuse, and neglect. But, that is not all of the story I
have begun to discover and work through in some new ways for me.
One of my first insights to help me begin to heal on body issues about 20 years ago was the simple fact that without my body, none of the other qualities I admired could exist as me. My body was my home. My body is me, a reflection of me, and the portal into all of me. With the simultaneous insight of a deeper awareness of how all "things" are connected, I began exploring how my body was also connected to all things.
I did not learn to love me or my body well, but I started by learning not to want it dead all the time. Some days this is a monumental effort even now albeit for different variations on earlier reasons. I did learn that others similar to me were loved deeply as they are. I learned other in worse conditions than I faced also were loved deeply. Not all like me were loved. Most were still trapped in the cruelties of life. But, for me, I began paying attention to the possibilities. I hungered for those. I decided I could be loved too. I knew how to love. So, I decided to continue working on me, making me a better conduit of love while at the same time doing as much research about the issues as possible. This research included listening to my body and learning the words to put to different emotions and other sensations. My insight was to work toward wholeness and healing in such a way that I could become the kind of lover I would want, and somehow that would attract what I needed, desired, and longed for to me... in me.
And, here I am. I am not yet shameless, but I am shedding more and more shame every day. What a relief!
One of my first insights to help me begin to heal on body issues about 20 years ago was the simple fact that without my body, none of the other qualities I admired could exist as me. My body was my home. My body is me, a reflection of me, and the portal into all of me. With the simultaneous insight of a deeper awareness of how all "things" are connected, I began exploring how my body was also connected to all things.
I did not learn to love me or my body well, but I started by learning not to want it dead all the time. Some days this is a monumental effort even now albeit for different variations on earlier reasons. I did learn that others similar to me were loved deeply as they are. I learned other in worse conditions than I faced also were loved deeply. Not all like me were loved. Most were still trapped in the cruelties of life. But, for me, I began paying attention to the possibilities. I hungered for those. I decided I could be loved too. I knew how to love. So, I decided to continue working on me, making me a better conduit of love while at the same time doing as much research about the issues as possible. This research included listening to my body and learning the words to put to different emotions and other sensations. My insight was to work toward wholeness and healing in such a way that I could become the kind of lover I would want, and somehow that would attract what I needed, desired, and longed for to me... in me.
And, here I am. I am not yet shameless, but I am shedding more and more shame every day. What a relief!
Monday, July 9, 2012
Thirsting to Fly
Jeanette Winter's observation of lovers as quoted from her work The
Passion is a sensual display of observation by a third party who happens
to be a poetic prose type writer-thinker. She paints a vivid word
picture of the nervous stage fright of a type of new lovers just meeting
passion/lust. She does accurately report how many express the delighted
terror of the new encounter with sexual opportunity just met - the "3 F
phenomenon" of fight, flight or f*ck. Alas, too many never advance from
this stage into an ever growing mature love & passion but rather
become addicted or stuck in believing that this is all there is. Then
when this fleeting, untamed, somewhat unpredictable spark is over, they
go on to look for the next spark without even trying to build a
long-lasting bonfire.
For me, the initial meeting with someone expressing sexual interest in me has felt like an attack. The delighted terror has had heavy emphasis on the terror part and little of the delight. I had been terrorized daily from the beginning of my life well into adulthood while also being "taught" to be a "good girl" at all costs or meet my destruction... as if I was not facing my destruction daily... and so I married, have a son, faithfully dead ever since... except the inner me kept growing....
Something untamed, wild, almost fae within me thirsted to fly, knew there was more & that I was more than all I was going through. My search for my own wholeness, my own wisdom, my own "me" has been a costly way with a long way still to go. But, fly I most certainly do. Imagination is a powerful path. Dreams can be made realer flitter by impish flitter, hard work by hard work, one step at a time. Unimaginable pain can be endured if the inward vision sees the dream possible. Impossible things happen every day. Fly with me please.
For me, the initial meeting with someone expressing sexual interest in me has felt like an attack. The delighted terror has had heavy emphasis on the terror part and little of the delight. I had been terrorized daily from the beginning of my life well into adulthood while also being "taught" to be a "good girl" at all costs or meet my destruction... as if I was not facing my destruction daily... and so I married, have a son, faithfully dead ever since... except the inner me kept growing....
Something untamed, wild, almost fae within me thirsted to fly, knew there was more & that I was more than all I was going through. My search for my own wholeness, my own wisdom, my own "me" has been a costly way with a long way still to go. But, fly I most certainly do. Imagination is a powerful path. Dreams can be made realer flitter by impish flitter, hard work by hard work, one step at a time. Unimaginable pain can be endured if the inward vision sees the dream possible. Impossible things happen every day. Fly with me please.
“Lovers are not at their best when it matters. Mouths dry up, palms sweat, conversation flags and all the time the heart is threatening to fly from the body once and for all. Lovers have been known to have heart attacks. Lovers drink too much from nervousness and cannot perform. They eat too little and faint during their fervently wished consummation. They do not stroke the favoured cat and their face-paint comes loose. This is not all. Whatever you have set store by, your dress, your dinner, your poetry, will go wrong.
How is it that one day life is orderly and you are content, a little cynical perhaps, but on the whole just so, and then without warning you find the solid floor is a trapdoor and you are now in another place whose geography is uncertain and whose customs are strange?
Travellers at least have a choice. Those who set sail know that things will not be the same as at home. Explorers are prepared. But for us, who travel along the blood vessels, who come to the cities of the interior by chance, there is no preparation. We who were fluent find life is a foreign language. Somewhere between the swamp and the mountains. Somewhere between fear and sex. Somewhere between God and the Devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse.”
― Jeanette Winterson, The Passion
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
It Circles Round
It Circles Round
Vague coursing
Snaking inwardly
Back and over and under
Up and around
Then back down again—
Unknowingly knowingly unknown
Shifting, sifting, lifting
A restless, rootless
Wildness…
Refusing continuance
Bound and chained
To a life not my own.
(C) 11 October 1994, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Vague coursing
Snaking inwardly
Back and over and under
Up and around
Then back down again—
Unknowingly knowingly unknown
Shifting, sifting, lifting
A restless, rootless
Wildness…
Refusing continuance
Bound and chained
To a life not my own.
(C) 11 October 1994, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Issues. Everybody’s Got Issues.
Issues. Everybody’s Got Issues.
Identity crisis would be just fine
Had someone not just smashed mine.
“I found myself.” “I lost myself.”
Everywhere: self, self, self.
Hello and how do I do?
I’m very sorry, have I met you?
Yes, I met me the day I’s born;
Then I left me all forlorn.
Oh, you poor and silly me.
How could you possibly not know me?
All my life I’ve felt so dizzy.
Gosh, finding me has kept me busy!
(C) 22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Identity crisis would be just fine
Had someone not just smashed mine.
“I found myself.” “I lost myself.”
Everywhere: self, self, self.
Hello and how do I do?
I’m very sorry, have I met you?
Yes, I met me the day I’s born;
Then I left me all forlorn.
Oh, you poor and silly me.
How could you possibly not know me?
All my life I’ve felt so dizzy.
Gosh, finding me has kept me busy!
(C) 22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
P.T.S.D. Begins
P.T.S.D. Begins
Pinch me. Am I alive?
Yes, but I do not feel it.
Isn’t it strange to be alive yet feel dead,
Such deep wounds and never reveal it?
Nobody knows. Nobody sees.
Nobody knows except me?
Everyone knows. Everyone sees.
Everyone knows except me?
Constant turmoil. Constant calm.
Brightest clouds. Darkest sun.
Scorching rain. Pouring heat.
Standing still on the run.
Hiding in the open field;
Cowering in the hidden den;
Am I really so innocent
Drowning in the deepest sin?
(C) 22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Pinch me. Am I alive?
Yes, but I do not feel it.
Isn’t it strange to be alive yet feel dead,
Such deep wounds and never reveal it?
Nobody knows. Nobody sees.
Nobody knows except me?
Everyone knows. Everyone sees.
Everyone knows except me?
Constant turmoil. Constant calm.
Brightest clouds. Darkest sun.
Scorching rain. Pouring heat.
Standing still on the run.
Hiding in the open field;
Cowering in the hidden den;
Am I really so innocent
Drowning in the deepest sin?
(C) 22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
A Wound for a Heart
A Wound for a Heart
Bubbling, boiling, heatedly churning,
Frothing and foaming, emotions are burning
Into my heart, my stomach, my head,
Violently reeling alone on my bed.
I cannot stop thinking. The memories come…
Upheavals, eruptions, but just feeling numb.
My stomach is knotted; memories play in my mind.
Tormenting and mocking, my life in a bind.
Furiously hating, bitter rancor,
Anger, hurt, fear: my grudging anchor
Holds me in place, frozen in time—
Will I ever be free from their despicable crime?
Sapping my energy, draining my life,
The past cuts right through me like a well-sharpened knife.
Will I ever be freed from my past?
Will I ever find peace in my heart that will last?
The chains are too heavy, too tight and too much,
Tangled, intertwined with my soul in the clutch
Of their cold, evil fingers, tearing me apart—
Big, gaping wounds in the place of my heart.
(C) 17 January 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Bubbling, boiling, heatedly churning,
Frothing and foaming, emotions are burning
Into my heart, my stomach, my head,
Violently reeling alone on my bed.
I cannot stop thinking. The memories come…
Upheavals, eruptions, but just feeling numb.
My stomach is knotted; memories play in my mind.
Tormenting and mocking, my life in a bind.
Furiously hating, bitter rancor,
Anger, hurt, fear: my grudging anchor
Holds me in place, frozen in time—
Will I ever be free from their despicable crime?
Sapping my energy, draining my life,
The past cuts right through me like a well-sharpened knife.
Will I ever be freed from my past?
Will I ever find peace in my heart that will last?
The chains are too heavy, too tight and too much,
Tangled, intertwined with my soul in the clutch
Of their cold, evil fingers, tearing me apart—
Big, gaping wounds in the place of my heart.
(C) 17 January 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
That Old Nameless, Faceless Fear Again
That Old Nameless, Faceless Fear Again
I have known the terror
Of never being sure
Just when the next trauma
Would engulf my little world,
Of living out a nightmare
Yet appearing very good…
For whom?
I have known the terror
Of never feeling safe,
Of being ever vigilant,
Of pretending to be sedate…
How docile and passive—
Like an electric barbed wire!
But who cared?
I have known the terror
Of sleepless nights and sleep-filled days,
Of feeling lost and wandering
Through a mine-filled maze,
Of always looking back and forth,
Of never being sure…
Of whom?
(C) 23 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
I have known the terror
Of never being sure
Just when the next trauma
Would engulf my little world,
Of living out a nightmare
Yet appearing very good…
For whom?
I have known the terror
Of never feeling safe,
Of being ever vigilant,
Of pretending to be sedate…
How docile and passive—
Like an electric barbed wire!
But who cared?
I have known the terror
Of sleepless nights and sleep-filled days,
Of feeling lost and wandering
Through a mine-filled maze,
Of always looking back and forth,
Of never being sure…
Of whom?
(C) 23 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
My Eyes Have Told My Story All Along
My Eyes Have Told My Story All Along
I looked at some pictures the other day,
And, boy, what a big surprise!
I wasn’t as ugly as I was led to believe,
Regardless of my age or my size.
It was a stranger looking at me,
Yet I recognized my big sad eyes.
My story told a story amazingly clear.
They saw through a life of lies.
Fixed eyes and focused, sad and alone,
Waiting for the unseen…
Eyes filled with a purpose yet gentle and kind,
Fiery and strikingly keen.
Sweet eyes yet haunting,
Knowing yet stilled,
Ready to pounce,
Yet sealed.
Scares eyes and timid,
Searching for love,
Questioning without answers…
Hawk with eyes of dove.
Mysterious yet open,
Guarded but real,
Penetrating,
Much to reveal,
My eyes told my story
There all along,
But no one saw it before?
Clearly something’s wrong.
Yet my eyes covered it up,
Hiding inside,
Remaining undetected—
My life relied.
Yes, I looked at some pictures the other day,
And, boy, what a big surprise!
Seeing myself for the very first time
In my quietly beckoning eyes.
(C) 30 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
I looked at some pictures the other day,
And, boy, what a big surprise!
I wasn’t as ugly as I was led to believe,
Regardless of my age or my size.
It was a stranger looking at me,
Yet I recognized my big sad eyes.
My story told a story amazingly clear.
They saw through a life of lies.
Fixed eyes and focused, sad and alone,
Waiting for the unseen…
Eyes filled with a purpose yet gentle and kind,
Fiery and strikingly keen.
Sweet eyes yet haunting,
Knowing yet stilled,
Ready to pounce,
Yet sealed.
Scares eyes and timid,
Searching for love,
Questioning without answers…
Hawk with eyes of dove.
Mysterious yet open,
Guarded but real,
Penetrating,
Much to reveal,
My eyes told my story
There all along,
But no one saw it before?
Clearly something’s wrong.
Yet my eyes covered it up,
Hiding inside,
Remaining undetected—
My life relied.
Yes, I looked at some pictures the other day,
And, boy, what a big surprise!
Seeing myself for the very first time
In my quietly beckoning eyes.
(C) 30 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Determined
Determined
In the heart of my heart is a door
Long locked and barred.
Aching. Yearning.
Deep desire.
What passion ruled me there?
I want to be loved, respected, admired.
I want to be an artist, serene.
I want to be saintly, earthy, risqué.
I want to be alive in all ways.
I want to be graceful, wise, fun, and deep.
I want to dance, sing, and run.
A secret compartment deep in my heart,
Buried yet ever with me.
Blocking. Preventing.
But not anymore.
Because I am determined to be me.
(C) 31 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
In the heart of my heart is a door
Long locked and barred.
Aching. Yearning.
Deep desire.
What passion ruled me there?
I want to be loved, respected, admired.
I want to be an artist, serene.
I want to be saintly, earthy, risqué.
I want to be alive in all ways.
I want to be graceful, wise, fun, and deep.
I want to dance, sing, and run.
A secret compartment deep in my heart,
Buried yet ever with me.
Blocking. Preventing.
But not anymore.
Because I am determined to be me.
(C) 31 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Who Are You? Me!!
Who Are You? Me!!
Dark, deep swirling in the river of my soul,
Sucking whirlpool and crashing wave.
How I’ve longed to trace you and
The devilish pain you gave,
But I never could quite discover
Even who you were, you knave.
Struggle, strive, stretch, searching,
Desperate to find relief,
In every nook and cranny,
Turning over each stone and leaf;
I hounded you to dispatch you—
To rest finally was my belief.
Who are you, my constant companion,
Who I fear, hate, yet long to see?
You outwit me, and you mock me,
Yet you fit me to a tee.
I hate you now I love you.
How dare you be me!
(C) 5 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Dark, deep swirling in the river of my soul,
Sucking whirlpool and crashing wave.
How I’ve longed to trace you and
The devilish pain you gave,
But I never could quite discover
Even who you were, you knave.
Struggle, strive, stretch, searching,
Desperate to find relief,
In every nook and cranny,
Turning over each stone and leaf;
I hounded you to dispatch you—
To rest finally was my belief.
Who are you, my constant companion,
Who I fear, hate, yet long to see?
You outwit me, and you mock me,
Yet you fit me to a tee.
I hate you now I love you.
How dare you be me!
(C) 5 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Personally Balanced
Personally Balanced
If I were sweeter water still
And not some brackish brine,
If I were only whippoorwill
And not a herd of swine,
If I were only oak and ash
And never knotty pine,
If I were only lakes and trees
And not a deep coal mine,
Then I would lack the bass-er notes
That swell the symphony,
And I would even lack the pain
And tears of sympathy;
My life would only be so flat—
No room for empathy,
And I would—perfectly dull—
Not have much company!
(C) 5 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
If I were sweeter water still
And not some brackish brine,
If I were only whippoorwill
And not a herd of swine,
If I were only oak and ash
And never knotty pine,
If I were only lakes and trees
And not a deep coal mine,
Then I would lack the bass-er notes
That swell the symphony,
And I would even lack the pain
And tears of sympathy;
My life would only be so flat—
No room for empathy,
And I would—perfectly dull—
Not have much company!
(C) 5 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
Self-Observation & Self-Discovery
Self-Observation & Self-Discovery
Focusing on sensations puts us more directly in touch with what's motivating us, while at the same time helping to free us from the story lines which tend to obscure our feelings. In this way, greater awareness to our sensations increases our emotional sensitivity. ~Marshall GlickmanOne of the more healing concepts for me was being made aware that I could get to know me and could discover more about me by seeing my body's reactions to whatever I was choosing to focus on at the time (for example, trying to discern why I cared about something said or done,) by allowing myself to feel whatever it was I was feeling, and by watching to see what arose in and from those feelings, which was not always easy to discern. Observation, listening intently, and just sitting as a sacred witness to me was revolutionary in concept alone. All I was requiring myself to do was just to observe myself quietly, receptively without judgment or rush to do something about whatever I was feeling.
Even with my continuing attempts through the years to practice this observational skill to get to know me, there are still many times I baffle myself, and that is fine. It means I need to spend more time getting to know me. Sometimes I care about something that has very tangled, deep roots that curl around poisonous substances within my memories or psyche that are still too traumatic for me to handle well yet. That, too, is fine. I give myself permission to be as complicated as I am with respect and acceptance. I try to be gentle and kind with myself with whatever I observe. Of course, I am still learning this as I am not prone to being gentle with myself and also tend to hurt myself deeply often. I have a long way to go in learning to accept, respect, and love who I am.
But before I can really love, accept, and respect me, I must know me. This is why I learned this practice in the first place. I also discovered that before I can truly love, accept, and respect someone else, I must be able to be offer these same kindnesses to me.
22 March 2011, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
My Quotes Dealing with Abuse Issues
17/06/11
Why take the drugs when you can live here & have a bad trip anytime you like? The only side effects are insanity with a bad attitude. No boredom, but it comes with a big price tag - you'll never know what is reality ever was... if there even IS a reality, one that seems never to go away. Welcome to the nightmare time. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
15/09/10
Do we ever in this life know why things turn out as they do? Some of what we think of as our worst flaws saves us much grief while some of our best strengths don't help when we think they should. Still, all works together for us in ways we don't always see. Nothing is as it appears. So, I say relax more, enjoy, & work with whatever happens. Might as well smile, too. It's free. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
21/01/11
Brave smiles to hide the tears ripping a living heart asunder. Such sad eyes. Why can I not reach you with my hands? You are so far. But, I can reach you with my heart. Can I move mountains to love you? Will it be enough? So many mountains need a very big heart. I can & I must try. Love & Life demand it. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
22/01/11
Decades later she still heard the terrified screams, smelt the blood. The words "she talked" burned, locked her in an extreme-still silence. No visible sign of emotion was safe. Ultra-sweet compliance was her defiance & survival. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw, Baby Tears
25/01/11
Moment by moment I am training myself to respect all of me as a whole & worthwhile person. I am learning to turn scared into sacred. I am learning that I really am who I am, & who I am is exactly who I was meant to be. I am learning this is the same for all my relations in creation. AND, it is a joy. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
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