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THE EMOTIONAL ALCHEMIST

Process over Content: The Curious Mind of a Work in Progress

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Posted on August 10, 2023


LEAVING TRANSACTIONAL LOVE BEHIND AND BEGINNING EMOTIONAL FREEDOM

Sober Curious

Good morning.

I got nailed by mosquitoes in a short while this morning. Under attack. The rage
rises. Story of my life. It rises so quickly at times I admit to myself.

I’m nearing the end of Sober Curious by Ruby Warrington. I’m beginning a Life of
One’s Own by Joanna Bigs and probably the Gunkel because it came up so randomly
in two of my sessions yesterday and I have it on my shelf. I’m back logged with
books as usual, but these days I’m developing a sense of trust in the one I need
/ want / desire will be there for me and that is all the difference in the
world.

Life is in such a transition right now I’m wobbly. I’m having some major major
epiphanies. I’m being with myself and not abandoning her and learning to listen
and honor. I am unlearning my own self gaslighting in such profound ways.
Undoing all those written stories and writing in clarity. It makes me emotional
just thinking about it.

I’m thinking about sobriety. Not just alcohol or substance use (by the way the
song Angel by The Wings by Sia just came on and it’s perfect I’m head nod
writing in resonance with my own journey), but emotional sobriety. Not riding
waves of highs and lows, but committed to staying steady. That’s my mission
right now.

Earned secure. I’ve been practicing it for years and it’s an ongoing journey not
a destination. I’m realizing this as a truth settling into my bones, rather than
an idea.

Not what I should want, but what I do want, and need. If I can’t be honest with
myself about it how could I have healthy relationships.

I’m updating my bio metaphorically and soon it’s time literally. But I’m also
fully committed in my relationships and rooted and I don’t need re-branding or
any form of change. That comes anyway like it or not. What I need is to be
steady. Stay steady and firm and grounded and clear.

I hate alcohol. I hate it for so many reasons. One of which is it’s seduction
that I have ever needed it for any reason. To have or to be fun, more relaxed,
let loose. Fuck off. That’s actually not what alcohol has done in my life ever.
It has manipulated me.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve manipulated too. It’s not black or white or right or
wrong. Just peeling back layers to reveal new skin that has been built under the
old. Sloughing off.

I pull away from alcohol and yet I so easily fold to belong and feel accepted
and to feel less anxious, but actually if I’m paying attention it does the
opposite.

I am sifting through my booze story and remembering the last time I was 7 months
sober (but who’s counting because I’m not an alcoholic right ?! Just any other
kind of addiction compulsion impulsivity). Ick my own bullshit angers me the
most. Deep breathe. I’ve got you. I’m angry and I love you and you’re safe with
me most profoundly in that I’m committed to being honest with you (me).

I was 7 months sober, and at the time when I looked back I thought I was doing
that so someone else in my life would follow, and in solidarity of their loss of
a loved one to alcoholism.

I had all of these stories, none of them were about my relationship to alcohol.

I drink it when I’m in so much pain I can hardly see, and also to “just have fun
at social events” I pretend I can without an up and down roller coaster ride of
terror. The smell makes my pulse beat faster. The glazed over eyes. I hate the
stuff. I want to be clear and slow and peaceful.

A liquid lake of love and learning.

I want to be addicted to learning if anything, but not desperate for it.
Allowing of my desires in a safe way.

I don’t want to preach and I don’t have to just because I want to be sober and I
will learn to stop ducking gaslighting myself.

I don’t care to debate whether I’m an addict (compulsive comfort seeker) or not.
I am. I went years without my emotional needs met, I was always going to be.
I’ve allowed myself to involve myself in things unhealthy for me to seek a
feeling. I’ll forget everything to that end. I’ll explode my whole life.

What’s interesting about this is it’s also a gaslight. I made the right
decisions for me, and I didn’t make them in a way that’s in alignment with who I
want to be in certain ways. The right decisions in some wrong ways, welcome to
living where we have to learn. Have the space and privilege to do so, and many
of us don’t.

If I find myself having to scream to be heard I am in the wrong situation no
matter how I feel or how real I think something is.

I was 7 months sober and I can’t even remember the moment I undid it but I know
it was to be closer to someone or something and doing the same thing makes me
feel that way at such a basic level and I take for granted at times all the work
I’ve done to move beyond that.

The first question I asked my now therapist on day one is can something like
this really be real. And the answer I’ve found for myself these years later is
yes it can and yes it was.

And that doesn’t mean the path is going to take you where you think you want to
be. There are some things that may remain a mystery maybe forever.

But one thing that won’t is my own emotions and self concept being in my
awareness. I’m attuning to me and I won’t allow anything to change that journey
for me. I am learning that those that can see it and appreciate it (me) will
show up on their own. I don’t have to fight for love or to be seen. I need only
to remove my own blocks to the awareness love has always been my birthright.

Love is my birthright and being loving is meant to be a joy and not an
impossible task. I just have lots of rocks to push up hills until each time I’m
grateful when I reach the top, even if I just start again tomorrow.

All my love,

C

Posted on August 5, 2023


PONDERING MY OWN 365 SOBER ADVENTURE…..

Coming soon …….

Good morning ! It’s beautiful out. I’m here for it. My toes are itchy and
uncomfortable due to the two giant water blisters that currently inhabit my
pinky ones. Due to wearing the cool shoes to see Pink at Fenway this past week.

This didn’t stop me however from seeing her again at Citi Field two nights
later. It’s Pink! And she’s every bit as infectious and enthusiastic about life
and what she does as I thought. I’d like to catch this infection please.

I already have silly.

Anyway I’m groggy this morning. Very over-tired. Lots of late nights and events
as I prepare to launch twin B into the world in a few short days.

I am blessed.

I couldn’t keep a pace like this for anything, nor would I want to. I love doing
things and all, but I am someone who likes a lot of quiet contemplation and I’m
finally allowing that to exist rather than making it mean something negative or
wrong.

I’m always something negative or wrong or doing something wrong is the survivors
general default setting.

This morning I’m reading Sober Curious by Ruby Warrington and being concerned
about my elderly dog, and thinking about attachment and life in general. Henri
may have suffered a stroke, or it may be an ear infection and clear up. The jury
is still out. So I am carefully poised for a potential loss of my longest
relationship with a pet and my constant office companion.

I am anyway, regardless of this situation, she’s thirteen years old. So that has
been weighing heavily on my heart lately.

I have three clients today, for the first Saturday in what 9 of them or so?!
This is because of a second Pink concert so I can’t be mad about it. I’m just
not used to it.

I’m thinking about hiking at Southford Falls tomorrow morning and then maybe
some writing at a little coffee shop nearby before my writing immersion from
12-3. My writing immersion is coming close to an end and I’m not sure what the
heck I’m going to do after. I will have to set something similar up, because
it’s a necessary way of life for me to regularly write and share my pieces and
I’ve found my way further into that journey, and subsequently my body. Go
figure.

I’ve got a million Pink lines in my head playing at random. Battling for space
with all of the rest. Counseling theories. Memories. Dreams. My to do list:
write my newly found Aunt back, practice Duolingo, connect with my cousin, and
so many others….

Now that the heat waves aren’t as intense I’m eager to get back into my walking
routine which is very comforting.

I snuggled a baby boy last night and spent time with friends.

I had therapy yesterday and still continue to turn corners and heal in ways I
never imagined I could. I surprise myself often.

This morning I’m contemplating committing to a year without drinking and to
write about it. Here of course. What I notice. It’s largely a decision for my
health.

I just want to be fully awake and present and not tamp that down with anything.
I prefer life that way, but it’s so easy to get caught up in social events and
norms and to use it to lubricate my squeaky gears and self-conscious parts.

I think for me I’ll need to make it a project and document my emotions and make
a commitment to it, or it will be so easy to just have a drink for this or that
reason. The sober project? Will I give it a name ?! Hmmm.

I believe in being made more whole by any commitment undertaken in earnest
that’s stuck too, and exploring the emotions it unearths. The archeologist of my
own bones if you will.

I want a deeper commitment and attachment to myself and my own emotional process
and to truly take the time to know her, inch by inch, inside and out.

I’m ready to really explore the role substance has in my life without using
stories to absolve my discomfort etc.

I wonder how it will change my life? Now to pick a start date without doing well
there’s this event or that event. There always is. Let me go think on this and
see my clients before my massage. I can’t wait to relax today!



Posted on July 25, 2023July 25, 2023


FERAL FOREVER AND LIGHT AS A FEATHER

I’ve decided I want to keep my feral parts.

The smolder, the slightly insane at times…

But this time mostly grounded too.

Yes it can be done.

Yes I defy gravity

And now

Now

I’m ready to claim

My birthright

And yes I had to look up

How to write that out correctly

And yes I ate almost a whole box

Of Kraft macaroni and cheese

For dinner last night

There’s still a little slum

In me

And guess what ?

I like it

Hair cut and Pink this next week. Things to look forward to.

I’ll have more than 50 shades

before I’m through

I can’t stop rhyming

Won’t stop trusting in

Divine timing

So I’m just livin’

On a prayer, on an edge

Like it’s my last day

Walk and pray

Sleeping long and deep

And workin hard

Feeling full at the end

Of my day

Time is my most valuable asset

Now

Open and free as a field

Learning what I want to

Talking to people

About abundance versus

Scarcity

Their major operators

And who pulls their strings

And how to cut them too.

The only battle I’m

Engaging in

Is the war on resistance

Of my art

Living with a

Fully transparent heart

It beats inside my chest

Behind my breast

In that hollow space

That you used to be

There’s a monument

I built there

To commemorate the

Loss

Ashes and rust

I clean it daily

Is this a fully human existence?

Do I fit the program?

I hope not

Writer emerge

Bridges burned

Others built

Life has seasons and

So do I ……

All normal

No labels needed

Just many mentors and

Guides



Posted on July 22, 2023


DARKEN THE CITY, NIGHT IS A WIRE…. DO DO DO DO DO DO DOOOOO DO.

Do you believe in signs ?! …..

I’m at the New York Athletic Club, in the city that never sleeps. It doesn’t but
believe me I do, or there is hell to pay. I’m old now I was old from the start,
even when I was new.

I found out recently I was premature. 5 lbs 2 oz. I believe. I wonder what I was
exposed to inside of her. From what I knew outside the odds aren’t in my favor.

I have these new connections with family that feel very grounding and positive
and this morning I’m in awe and contemplation.

Is this what most of the other people I know have always had, just naturally.
This feeling that they won’t just fly out into space at any moment.

A dear friend once said to me to keep defying gravity. Gravity I think. The
invisible force that tethers one to earth. I was untethered and often unbridled
and my defense system would shout that I wouldn’t change a thing. But now that I
know what I know. You can’t unknow and all of that. I can’t even say that.

What is this feeling?

A feeling of solidness, inhabiting my body. Being at a dinner party with famous
Broadway actors and actresses and not feeling less something, less anything.

Famous didn’t matter. It was an intimate gathering, natural. All people
passionate about their arts. Some happy and fulfilled, some not as much. There
were also wounds at that table. We all have them, some are just more apparent
than others.

Yesterday we went to Westsider Rare and Used bookstore. I want to ravage every
single one in this city. To touch every spine, cover, and page. To know which
one I like best. To feel the knowledge pressing in around me, to hear all the
voices of all of those brave writers that made it to the point where they were
bound, gathered, and artfully decorated.

I’m ready for a cover and a title and a brand. Brand new. Look at you Christina.
You can be and do anything. So what will it be? The crushing weight of
possibility. No more crushing weight, only an unbearable lightness of being, he
just died recently by the way.

One of the great loves of my life, very early on, came upon me reading Milan
Kundera, the book of the very name of above, in a break room in a Trader Joe’s.
I had a wedding ring on. I had more naïve enthusiasm than most would know what
to do with at that time

All balls and no brain. Which is exactly what I needed to propel me out of a
life I was not meant for.

I’ve been shot out of a cannon many times since so to speak. Jet propulsion. My
swift expulsion from everything comforting. Including my self concept. Which is
more than jarring, it’s actually quite alarming: disarming.

Apparently I’m a wrapper. Who knew. How much is channeled by my early days of
resonance with Eminem’s music. Curtain Call. Relatable. It’s not debatable. My
mind likes to rhyme.

One of my book store picks this time at random is Junot Diaz This is How You
Lose Her. The cover looks interesting, actually not really so much. His name was
in a compilation of writers on writing and this made me curious who he is as a
writer.

I watched Ammonite the other day. I am haunted by it lately. Still sorting out
what that is about. Can’t stop rhyming. Everything in divine timing….

A walk in the park and a stationary store before heading home on the train
today. Muji…. I’m told the pages are creamy, buttery, gold.

I just sent out for my passport yesterday. And got two sheets of stamps. I love
them. I got Toni Morrison ones and Love ones with puppy’s and hearts.

Here at the NYAC there’s an old fashioned looking letter drop. Between that and
the stamps I want to write letters. The art of the letter is long lost.

I write letters that will never go to their recipients, ones only I will ever
see. So many of the connections in my life are like that. Extinguished and never
without good reason.

I spent so much time second guessing myself. Only to end up here where
validation is around every corner and I am safely held.

I just put three new clients on the books yesterday morning. These are a little
out of my comfort zone, something I haven’t done in awhile. Hopefully the
freshness will be good for all involved.

Fresh eyes, no lies.

The truth will set you free. It always does. There are times I haven’t wanted to
be free. I wanted to be held.

You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need.

Ok for now back to writing and exploring this iron jungle melting pot, before it
gets too hot.

Stay Tuned ….



Posted on July 8, 2023


LEARN FROM EVERYTHING… HEART OPENINGS. FAMILY TIES….

I choose to learn from those that are loving.

So it’s a Saturday morning. Most of the years of my life I would have been
working right now. In fact I had been seeing the same client at that time for
about 6 years now I believe. They are now in a different time slot.

This is maybe my seventh Saturday, but whose counting I now have two full real
estate days to create, work, play, etc from…. I can see a favorite plant on the
deck in my view right now. I’m a little chilly so before I continue I’ll put on
my Untamed zip up and heat my coffee that I still haven’t drank yet.

How many times will I heat this thing up. And life isn’t even busy. Usually we
make ourselves busy. Today I’m enjoying some love cleaning. Not to be confused
by rage cleaning, neurotic cleaning, or any other variety. There are so many.

On my mind most lately is alone time. Lake house ? Maybe?! Monastery? Maybe. It
feels so aggrandizing to speak of feeling closer to spiritual enlightenment and
yet I think that’s true. It’s just pure peace. Knowing you can have all the
knowledge but not a breathless need to practice it, especially on someone else.

On my mind lately is also the organization of finances and how the hell does
anyone decide what to spend on and what not to if you’re being mindful.

I’m tired of mindless. And while most things in my life or not I fall into
spending habits that are more behavioral and unconscious than I prefer. So I’m
working on that. I’m sure any readers can relate to the amount of money spent on
Amazon monthly. Even a business write off, because most are books, is not a
justification I can endure any longer.

I crave moving towards minimalism and away from anything I don’t need. I crave
to simplify stuff and amplify experiences. However I have a tendency to do the
opposite.

I’m currently reading the War of Art by Steven Pressfield. He wrote the legend
of baggar Vance, which I actually don’t know much about. The book is about
creativity and resistance. I’ve often said resistance takes many forms and he
summarizes that in neat concepts in the book. An easy and powerful read!

I’m also reading The Inner Life of The Counselor by Robert Wicks. The Invisible
Life of Addie Larue, A Separate Peace, and about a million other things.

I’m taking many less baths, which is interesting. Hmmm I could take one now
actually. Not a bad idea. I’m working my way through all or nothing behavior as
well as thinking. Challenging it.

I tend to be all in my head and not in my body, and when I do get into my body
all sorts of complications occur right now. So that’s something I’m being with
and sorting through. There are wounds there. There is loss there. That sometimes
I just cannot come to grips with.

Through that process I’m learning to be and accept myself and slowly ever so
slowly eeking the poison out. The criticism, the gaslighting, the minimizing,
the hyper vigilance. The judgment, the fear, the raw pain.

Healing for me, I am finding, is a lifetime art. It doesn’t have to be all dark
and storms, even though yes those are there.

Anyway here I am, this is me, working to be wild and free while also contained
in a safe land I’m building inside of me.

In the words of Emily Dickinson I’m out with Lanterns looking for myself.

Today’s agenda besides a lunch engagement is to clean my work desk and organize
myself to focus on some of my tasks I’ve been procrastinating. An elaborate
method of self-harm. But I’m so good at it. But I don’t want to be. Stop it
kids. Everyone get along.

My to do list is massive it includes the next wave of changing my last name. All
major tasks are done, but smaller ones, weeding out the old (and sacred), the
weeds are magical too, the building blocks of my now self were nourished and
founded on those.

It includes renewing my passport with my correct info, because I believe some
travel is coming up soon. Positano maybe. Looking. Listening.

It includes finishing the process to become licensed in Florida. I will not ever
be residing there, I can barely tolerate visiting. But when a beloved long time
client relationship moves, you do what you must. And maybe there’s also another
reason I don’t know yet.

Then mundane things like paying car taxes and bills, remembering to have the
boiler serviced before the season this year etc.

We currently have no washer and dryer, and no flooring in the basement and a
mess down there. So calls to the insurance company to follow up are also in
order.

Breathe. Breathe is on the list.

And then next week my cousin is coming to visit. An honest to God blood relative
that I have a few fond memories with and a felt connection that has spanned the
years.

I have become sentimental. Some might say I always was, but I feel the variety
maybe of it is different now.

I took a journey on 23 and me and now have three blood relatives I’m in contact
with that in enthusiastic about and hold possibility not only for more knowledge
about who and where I come from, but also warm, grounding, belonging in the
realm of family.

It’s not desperate or seeking. It’s sturdy and profound.

I have also come into contact with my father’s sister and she seems amazing. She
calls me niece and it feels nice. Simple and profound. She lives in Washington
State near a state forest and that sounds amazing. I feel validated and loved
and I never imagined I’d have family I could feel that way with.

Magic is happening. Loss still burns. There are still holidays and birthdays and
memories that have left gaping holes. The story can be resolved, but the
emotions are much different. They have a mind of their own.

Well that’s all I have for today. I want to KIS, keep it simple and in
digestible amounts for now. I’m learning to do that with most things.

All my love,

C

Posted on July 1, 2023


NEW CREATION ALWAYS COMES OUT OF OLD

I am listening to Ruelle radio. I heard a song by her I loved in a movie last
night. Wildflower I think the movie was called.

My chest has been heavy lately. Only partially the bad cold I just had. I’ve had
anxiety. Which is interesting because in the zoom out, big picture of it all
things are going really well. Me doing the work is going really well.

I’m being and becoming more consistent and grounded. I’m in my body more than
I’m not. It’s a disconcerting sensation attaching inside a body after years of
compensating in a variety of ways and adapting to disconnection.

I am nothing if not adaptable. It’ll be on my headstone. She adapted. It’s not
the strongest of the species, but those that can adapt that survive. What was
necessary became a lifestyle. What is no longer necessary leaves room for what
is essential.

Insert a quote about a prince and his lesson….

Belmont street beckons always. Woodmont is busy today. Normally that would
bother me but I’m making time and space for myself anywhere these days.

Today I recognized I’d been too long without the oxygen that being alone
provides. Despite all the events being good ones including Elizabeth Gilbert and
Rob Bell, it’s a major non negotiable of mine to be alone often and for spans of
time. I crave it.

As today I was craving my smoothie water drive and park and meander, through the
world and my mind equally.

One day I will look up and…. I lost my train of thought. It went off the tracks.
Just like that.

One day maybe I’ll have one of these houses that faces here, because this space
is sacred to me. There’s not an explanation. I’m just called to it always and
feel at home here.

Hearts are like that too. Inexplicable. Finicky. Unpredictable. I’ve learned a
lot about that during my life.

I miss writing here. There’s always so much to say I don’t get to, it pains me.

Life around me is moving fast, and inside me it’s much more still. Thank god.

My nest is nearly empty and yet absolutely full.

My triggers subsiding. Fingers gliding across your surface.

My poet and my scribe and my novelist are all scrambling for front and center
lol, no surprise there.

Found twin B her first car. Milestone moment. Able to help and have her do some
in her own, the epitome of success as a parent, in my opinion anyway.

I appreciate it all now. Every moment I can get. Yes, even when it’s difficult.
Even with a thousand triggers. I’ll take a thousand and one deep breaths. I
don’t wanna miss a thing.

She’s leaving for her first year in college. Florida. Bless her. I hate Florida.
Hate the humidity and one or two other things. But I’ll love to visit her and
hear about what that’s like for her.

The Little Prince has his first apartment with roommates and it’s very close to
the house. He’s taking care of himself and learning life.

Twin A is going to finish her second year of college and then head off to UCONN.

In one years time ish unless one comes home I’ll have none of my children living
under my roof.

I’m just sitting here facing my beloved water and thinking about this. My life
is vast, and full. I’ve lived every inch of it, every corner. And yet there are
lifetimes more. How exciting.

My chronic pain is profound. It is not trivial. But I learn to cope a little
better every day and it no longer makes me anxious the way it used to. I just
learn what I need and how to love and talk to me better. How to listen better.

Heart opening, softening, thawing. Mercy, Grace.

My goal is relaxation and creation. No more hustle and grind. An early
retirement of sorts, a peace treaty of the mind.

Man or a monster Sam Tinnesz et Al.

I am proud. That’s what I am. I show up. I stay. I’m steadfast and strong and
loving and everything I never came from. And I am finally, finally, not kept out
of my own warmth. No more gaslighting. No more making myself small. No accepting
less …..

I can’t believe how much cold, hard, estrangement and desolation I lived with
inside of me. That breaks my heart.

Monsters by Ruelle. Some kind of theme here :p. I feel endless possibilities at
this juncture.

I’m Christina Jenkins now. I’ve never had a last name that felt like home. Now I
do. It’s extra ironic and pleasant that was my notebook name of practicing when
I dreamt of marrying my first love. And guess what I still love him. A wholesome
heartfelt relationship that has lasted our whole lives with a family who loves
me as a bonus.

I love my name. Who knew getting married wasn’t the only way to have a name you
love or a family for that matter. Now I have many.

An abundance of belonging. And an abundance of tender affections for me.

All my love,

C

Ps it’s a beautiful Saturday. I’m not working. I just saw a Frenchie. I am
loved. My needs are met and I now allow my whole story and every inch of my
memories and emotions regarding that to exist.

I no longer cut off parts of myself …..





Posted on June 4, 2023


TRANSMUTING PAIN INTO POWER THROUGH PERSONAL NARRATIVE

There are things that need to be written from the origination point.



Im listening to I Will Find You by Audiomachine and it is transcendent. It’s
making my experience of staring out at the water with my toes in the sand
somehow more magical.

In this state I can feel everything I need to feel to have daily presence with
myself.

Feeling is safe. Feeling will not kill you.

Writing is safe….

I’ve somehow managed to make my favorite day even better by permitting myself
the experience of Victoria Erickson’s writing immersion: Ashes and Rain.

This is where we come alive out of the shadows and into the light….. next song!
I can feel it rising, golden waves of sound. Ruelle Radio. The smell here is
divine.

So many things are coming full circle for me at this time in my life. Breaking
out of the story, any of them and into pure presence. Less perfection. Who knew
how much of that I actually had hanging around. Not me that’s for sure.

My third immersion class today, and yesterday was my third Saturday that was my
own. But who’s counting? Me. I am!

I’m reading the exact book I need right now. It describes this path I’ve been
on. Stephen Cope Soul Friends. I can’t believe how similar so many of the
experiences described are and that someone else was able to articulate it in
this way.

So of course I’m on a reading journey that book spurned. Exploring Thoreau,
Dickinson, Forster (Maurice), a separate peace. And many more. And also being
introduced to many new poets via Victoria. Ada Limon, David whyte and more.

I will carry you came on. As I’m getting ready to depart and back in my car in
its usual spot.

I have an immense feeling that I will live in Milford the rest of my life. When
I die I’d like my ashes spread at Woodmont, at all my spots along this stretch.
It has called to me long as I can remember. I first found it by wandering on
some of my first run/ walks with self as a young mother trying to create a space
for her thoughts.

I still remember the day I first walked down Belmont St. And as the road rose up
there’s a moment when you can first see the water. That moment is my favorite
part. I still feel that when I drive here. The moment water and I meet, magic.

I’m more embodied now which means that I’ve expanded from hours in the bath to
bodies of water out in the world and to nature as well. I’m learning to keep my
attention when out in the world, and to still be able to write.

We write alongside life…. Not separated from it. I am learning.

I think a new Sunday routine may emerge of contemplation by the water along with
my exercise prior to my writing class 12-3.

I go to therapy one time weekly now. Friday mornings. It was a long time I did
two days a week. Doing only one isn’t some accomplishment, as in I’m more
healed. It’s just a natural progression to using that time in other ways. So
maybe it is ha

I’m getting ready to embark on a new level of healing with that therapy that is
focused on the trauma held within my bodies. The things my mind cannot access.
Denali sized blocks.

I’m scared. Raw and shaking. Heart racing. Sweaty scared. And I’m grateful to be
able to fly that close to the truth and to survive it.

Transmuting pain into personal power. Becoming a healer also to myself.

I’m writing poetry. I’m thinking of the connections that drew that side out just
based on the emotions encompassed within. Those who recognized the poet and the
passion within me. Who saw. Who felt me.

I am with them all the time. They are with me all the time. There is no need for
separation.

I’m learning to no longer censor myself. I am de compartmentalizing all that has
been and this is a painful process.

Becoming fully embodied and present. It’s excruciating and also the most
beautiful suffering I’ve ever experienced. That look you saw wasn’t darkness it
was the depth of my ability to connect. Interpret as you will. But I see it now.

I see it now.

The transformation is exquisite…

I’m on the rise is the song on now….. pay attention…..

Writing time…..









Posted on May 22, 2023


WE ALL NEED SOMEONE WHO HELPS BRING OUR WALLS DOWN.

There are times in our life where we need that so badly that we accept it in the
form of someone who doesn’t keep us safe.

Then what?

Only to be shown what’s possible but then put them back up even thicker.

Needs are an interesting thing.

I’d venture many if not most broken relationships are the result of not being
able to communicate our needs and be responsive enough in the demands of the
culture and society we live in.

I used to think America was the greatest.

Because I was told that right. Now I’m leaning much more towards it emphasizes
all the wrong things.

What fundamentals are we built on? Stepping on the backs of others to achieve
our own status while not considering others. A beautiful Instagram feed?!

When mostly behind the pictures are struggling lost souls.

There is no pleasure allowed, only the pursuit of the American dream.

I’m finding at this point in my life other cultures have it so much more figured
out. That life is also about family and connection and pleasure and the TIME to
have those things.

Time!

How is one to have time if they have not achieved society’s idea of the American
Dream.

But what are my dreams ?! Where are my dreams?

Completing the stress response cycle ? Perhaps. Hint Emily Nagowski probably
spelled wrong.

I dream of not having my trauma and coping mechanisms dictate my life.

I know I’m far from isolated in that dream. Many people share it and are seeking
exactly that in my office.

Spoiler: I don’t have it figured out either, but I desire that.

There’s desire! Hi my old friend how have you been?

I need to understand you better.

You’ve caused such grief in my life, but also had my back and opened so many
doors.

You raging compass.

You really fuck me up sometimes …..

But you also led me to my true self and north.

Why’s it gotta be so complicated. You get it Avril, and Taylor, and Pink…..

Music you get me. I’m writing this to the tune of the piano guys radio.

Music pulls down my walls and gives me back to myself.

It’s why I want to play it, listen to it, more fully experience it and myself.
Don’t forget yourself champ. But how ?!

And the song ended.

Now maybe there will be a different rhythm to my writing.

I’m sweaty and lost and sad on a Monday morning. And I’m also hopeful and
excited about the possibilities of the day. These are my defaults as much as
anything else. Thank god.

Music stimulates my brain in the right way to bring the walls down. It’s steady.
I am in control. If I don’t like a song I change it. But I rarely do actually. I
like to take in everything music has to teach me because it’s safe.

Writing is too I am learning and I’m finally letting go and doing it.

Having no idea the outcome.

The guy in 22 is trying to navigate his grass. He stands over it puzzled begging
it to look as nice as the other lawns. But he’s just beginning. Someday it will
because of his patient attendance and devotion.

So it’s one day at a time for now with music, walking, reading and writing.

Finding balance between thinking and feeling. Head and heart.

They are navigating too…..creating their connection.

No negotiations needed!

Posted on May 21, 2023


THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF UNDERSTANDING ME

“You can do something now to live the life you want to live.”

Grrr this was written the other day. And now I’m on a different one but just
noticed this didn’t post.

Running book title: Understanding me.

If I wrote a book now that might be what it would be entitled right now. That’s
what I’m working at each day.

Now that I’m not desperately trying to understand the actions of someone else
(most of the time ;)), I am figuring out what I want, need, etc. Go figure. And
also for me, easier said than done.

So today I find myself in the Storrs Library just over the CT state line. I’m
here for my insert number here energy healing. I wonder how many that’s a good
question.

I went to look it up on Venmo because I’m me, and the internet here inside the
library has not lived up to my patience threshold. I crack myself up. So maybe
something to get a statistic on later, if I remember. Slim chance.

So I’m sitting in the library with Things That Matter by Joshua Becker on my
lap. Knew nothing about this book before I opened it. So far it begs you to ask
the question of what you would regret about not finishing in your life. It
speaks of a person’s work with the dung and their shared regrets and those
commonalities.

It’s talking about how to live focusing (my fear kicks in with self knowledge
here, my arch nemesis), on how to achieve the focus necessary to live according
to your priorities.

Living in a way that makes a difference and not “wasting” that.

If you were to die today, what one thing (or few things) would you be most
disappointed that you weren’t capable to complete.

Let’s see if I can work through mine here. There is the obvious sharing of my
story and writing a book, the two may not be mutually exclusive. I’m still
figuring out that.

I would regret not having fully apologized to those I’ve loved, where
appropriate, based on the understanding I now have of myself.

Perhaps I would regret not giving enough attention to develop a counseling
theory or movement based on the knowledge I have.

And not having a healthier relationship with myself, how I treat myself etc.

So I suppose reading this it’s pretty clear I’m on the path. That’s comforting.
Seriously.

I just read make it a point to read books from different centuries because it
will come from a different perspective and will challenge your thinking in new
ways! That’s why East of Eden! Woooo! I’m ahead of the game.

So these are the five regrets people cited…

And our time together today in this blog is almost at a close. I certainly do
not regret making this post.

What I learned today is how close I am to living my life in a way that leaves
few regrets and I could have lost all of that by obsessing over some of my
mistakes and getting lost in them.

Stop it! I say to myself… stop it and carry on.

Onward! (Thanks Liz) and now I can truly embody and feel that message and how
you got to it.

All my love, all of it!

C

Ps lately my thoughts are highly influenced by Soul Friends and exploring the
connection that have most deeply impacted me, trauma work, understanding what
triggers my symptoms and how that affects my life. Also the reading of Come as
You Are, as well as Letting Go. Energy healings, movement, nature, self
discovery, reflections, and the places that shows or songs or moving or reading
take me.



Posted on May 14, 2023


JUST A PUPIL IN THE SCHOOL OF LOVE…..

Love lift us up where we belong

It’s a gorgeous Sunday. I feel beautiful. Clear and peaceful and calm. Whole.
Myself.

I no longer feel I’m outside of my body watching my life, or that I don’t
deserve things coming my way today, or any other. Now I say this, but there are
moments. The pain is not gone, my trauma is not gone.

I’ve just found a lot more peace in living, created a lot more.

I do however want to write more. I went to Kripalu and that was such an
experience and I want to capture it. I made new and dear writer friends. I read
bravely, shaking and crying even, but without hesitation and without shame.

I showed up!

I wrote pieces I didn’t know I had in me, many fragments of my life.

Sea glass.

I found myself in others there and vice versa.

I found out I’m a poet, a lyricist, that there’s a rhythm to my writing, and
that I’m all in. I knew that. But I don’t mind finding out over and over.

I’m all in. With my whole heart.

This day feels beautiful. It doesn’t just look it. I’m no longer invisible or
trying to make myself that way. So much unworthiness is being shedded.

I feel loved. I feel seen.

And I feel felt.

My home is full of loving people and music and food and joy. When I observe from
the outside this is what I see and hear. People feel welcome and loved here.

I have new piano lessons that are so much better than the other. And I was able
to realize that I didn’t lose any of what I learned (we never do). Once it’s in
there it’s in there.

I got paperwork Friday to move forward with changing my name. Yes, I am being
adopted at 42 years old, and no I don’t mind the administrative nightmare that
ensues. I had been avoiding because of that.

I had a hospital trip last week, and a nurse said my last name and it felt
weird. I don’t think I’ve ever felt I belonged to a last name. Sadly even those
I share with my children, and is also the name of my business. It would be so
easy to go back to that one. And also has the bonus of sharing it with my kids.

I need to belong to myself, and I also want to belong to a family that has known
young me, that has shaped me, and that showed up.

I’ve spent long and hard thinking about this and even though I had acceptance
and love from a family I kept it at arm’s length because of fear. They will
write that on my grave perhaps. I was too afraid to lose it and that they were
just being nice and every other fear you can imagine. Judging myself left and
right. Analytical to a fault.

I’m done with that. It is with an open heart only, and still some better senses
about me, that I choose to embark on the rest of my life.

How did you do it?! Not lose your heart….. it wasn’t easy.

So I am going to be Christina Nicole Jenkins soon.

When I think of love and being loved it’s them that I think of when it comes to
family. Them that have known and loved me all the years of my life
unconditionally and without expectation or becoming upset with me for the
choices I’ve made.

When I think of how I love. How I include my daughter’s boyfriend as he’s one of
the family, and holidays, it is them I have modeled the most after. How I have
loved friends as my own, my desire to make anyone in my area feel like family.
That’s me. That’s my own. It always was.

My first love Michael Jenkins and I… we are still in love. Not the romantic be
together kind, but the kind who experienced first love together. I always did
wish to marry him, so the last name will do. I feel warm and safe and seen and
felt all these years later with him, and the family who loved me naturally. With
him or not. They love me for me.

They just lost a daughter recently. My heart hurts for them. I’m sorry.

So I’m just realizing more recently a lot more about love. What it is. Who I am
in its arms. How it’s shaped my life. Whether it was the having of it or the
lacking of it. Whether it was lightning bolt love that jolts you awake to so
many things, slow love that is learned, love of a friend, love of self, passion,
vocation, nature.

What is love is my writing prompt from Melissa. And even if I do know a lot more
about what it’s not, I am an eager student.

I used to just go blank when Melissa would ask me anything about me.

So on this Mother’s Day I have a mother and I am a mother, and there’s no
internal conflict or pit of pain and despair to be found.

My life is “good enough”, not longing for anything else. Always that burning
longing…. a purgatory my childhood years left me to resolve and I’ve turned pain
into art.

The art of life itself.

And I love living.

So I’m sitting here pondering the consistent stable things I’ve created this
past two years.

I am consistent and committed to my healing. Which includes routines I crave and
love. They include exercise, nature, connection, writing, touch, learning,
reading, and play. In no particular order because writing would be first, though
play in last does track.

And little by little the hyper vigilant guard let’s down my walls and I swim in
a sea of love without drowning or jumping out. I’m finding ways to navigate the
waters. Ways into and out of myself that are constructive rather than
destructive.

It’s not perfect. I’m still doing a lot of grieving. My heart is still heavy in
ways that are felt in daily life, especially on holidays, and milestones. There
are aches of what was, and what never was. Phantom limbs that tingle. Vivid
moments.

I still do grief rituals. Deep moments of allowing. No blocking.

Those are part of life now, and I don’t worry that they will bitter the sweet.
They are the product of a life well lived of pursuing that which sets my heart
on fire and there’s no shame in that.

I have nothing to be ashamed of or regret, only to peacefully sort my way
through gently, ever so gentle with my heart.

Tread softly on me. I have a lot of scars.

I deal with a lot of pain physically and emotionally daily. That’s normal for
me. My normal. When I get too down about it life gets harder. When I have some
story like I’m meant to be this suffering thing. That’s ridiculous.

I just take things one day at a time and get better at coping with those
difficulties and at being at home inside my body and with my wide open heart.

This is where I am

It’s the first Mother’s Day I’ve truly let go and forgiven myself for not being
able to stay where I was being harmed. Not wondering if I would attend a funeral
for someone who died for me a long time ago. For someone who didn’t consider my
well being.

How can a mother ever be that way with a child. I’m not perfect, not near to it,
but I’d never give up becoming a mother.

I never give up, and I am loyal when safely connected and seen and felt.

I would have stayed loving her if it wasn’t burning me alive.

She never became a mother.

And thankfully I did and am.

It’s hard to not regret how long it’s taken me to get here. To give without
resentment and that edge I always had. It creeps up like bile crawling up my
throat. I now know where to put it, and life is much easier.

I want to give now. I’m not as exhausted all the time now.

I want to be a mother and someday a grandmother who my loved ones feel felt by.
That I am able to pay attention to them without getting overstimulated,
freezing, isolating, fawning, covered in panic.

Separated off in my mind in some terrible intrusion.

So I do the work, walk the line, show up.

I’m emotional often now. Like a raw exposed nerve. Like a burn victim. No longer
reacting at every touch. I can lean in to connection and learn.

It’s humbling and rewarding and I am present and accountable.

All my love…

Mom

Ps: oh and the entire reason I began writing was to write about my schedule
adjustment, and how that feels, but this feels complete. So next post…. My
writing has a mind of it’s own and takes me on the ride.








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