Ongoing Life...Ongoing Therapy, by Jacqueline DeSelms-Wolfe, MEd

Ongoing Life...Ongoing Therapy, by Jacqueline DeSelms-Wolfe, MEd

I have been in therapy for over 20 years, most have been here at the Estuary. I’m still coming and I now get to write for this place. It is a blessing and a curse. The blessing is that I get to write, something my soul has been longing to do since I was a young child. The curse is that I have to write and now I’m being held accountable. 

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Love Letter, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

Love Letter, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

This is a love letter.

A love letter to my husband, to my family, to The Estuary Staff and to our clients.
 
Every moment I spend thinking of you, talking with you, helping you, laughing with you is a lovely relational act where you become present to me and I am present with you. I gaze at the space between us as I look into the eternal You. Every breath of US is an eternal breath of You and Me.

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A Deeper Practice, by Stephanie Shockley, MA

A Deeper Practice, by Stephanie Shockley, MA

In January, as many of us do, I began a new exercise regime. I made a plan to meet my middle daughter at a 7:30am yoga class. Unaware of the time it would take to travel across the city on the first day of school after the holiday break, I was surprised I arrived to find the class door still open and time to spare. 

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Thanksgiving, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

Thanksgiving, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

I watched my husband play the Incredible Hulk in a psycho-drama workshop we did together many years ago.  He startled me with his “acting” talent and ability, transforming from the kindhearted, tender man I knew him to be, when he appeared on set painted green and angry.  Freedom and power exuded from every cell of his being.  I felt joyful. 

I wanted to feel THAT! 

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Why Their's and Not Mine?, by guest blogger Jacqueline DeSelms-Wolfe

We woke up this morning to a large red ring around my daughter’s belly button. Thankfully this episode was on a regular weekday instead of a Sunday. It was like God listened when I prayed for some weekend medical relief, or rather wrote all about it here. He must of forgotten, however, that we were just at the doctor yesterday for her 7 year check-up. 

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It Was Me All Along, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

It Was Me All Along, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

I was backpacking alone in Utah, carrying a huge pack on my skinny hips that looked like raw meat.  I felt invincible, capable, with every step validating that there is nothing I can’t do. I loved it! That was many years ago.

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Awareness, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

Awareness, by Susan Austin-Crumpton

Before my mother died she said to me; “I wish you could stop trying to fix yourself!  Why can’t you just be more like me?!”

I have a dining room cupboard filled with dishes and china from relatives who have long since died.  I never fully thought about whose they were because my younger sister remembered it all.
She died six years ago.
 

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Off the Grid, by Susan Beyler

Off the Grid, by Susan Beyler

I’ve been ‘off the grid’ for almost 4 weeks.  I was blessed to have my out-of-state daughter and grandchildren stay with me for almost a month. 

They’re gone now and the house is still – not just quiet, but still.  There is no wind from children moving through and it is such a different sound.

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New version of a Good Day, by Susan Beyler

New version of a Good Day, by Susan Beyler

This January I started a gratitude jar – writing what I was grateful for each day and putting the note in a jar. 

After a short while, it stopped feeling very helpful.  At my age (old) I am very aware of being grateful; as us geezers say, ‘I’m grateful for any day above ground’.

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