Saturday, July 25, 2015.  Perhaps it was inevitable, even predictable, that for all the years of intense, focused, concentrated work I put into my studies of research and personal family history that a time would come when who I am would find a way to be tested through love with sacrifice.


I am watching sweeping bands of wispy clouds glow golden from the setting sun.  Their beauty is amplified because they stretch low across the deepening blue of a far-reaching sky high above them.


Understandings about the lifelong effects of severely traumatic childhoods are likely not to rest in some sanctified remote place in our lives where no emotion can reach them.


Those golden clouds that blessed my heart only moments ago are all dark now as I write these words outdoors while the blazing heat of the day empties from the air around me.


Our life here on earth is made up of contrasts.  What we reach for.  What we hope and work for.  And what we get.  Split-second intervals become hours, days, weeks and years.

What do we carry along with us?  What is left behind?  What catches up to us – out of nowhere (such a small, big word)?

But most importantly what keeps us going?  Like fisher-people we have those nets cast all around us.  Hidden under the surface of the sea of our life that surrounds us.  We have our personal values, what is true for us, what we care most about.  Who keeps us feeling connected and that we matter?

Who are we safe enough with to feel in their presence our genuine joy?

Who and what keeps us hopeful – and for what?

When the sun sets and all fills with darkness we are always on our way to a better tomorrow.  Sometimes I need to notice what this feels like.


I went searching online to find an article about something of meaning to me right now in my life.  I found this article:

Empath Traits: 22 Signs You Are A Highly Sensitive Person

By Barrie Davenport

Yeah.  That’s me.  That has always been me.  It will always be me.  And for people this sensitive I am wondering if horrifically abusive and neglectful early years wound us in ways that perhaps they would not if we had not been – who and HOW we are in the world.

I don’t know.  I do not know.


Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.


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