Shame On Me?

Shame On Me, a blog by Bernadette Rose Smith I’ve been lost in a circle of shame. Lost with untold stories. And my partner in crime is not here to release me. He died of cancer. I tell others that there is no shame in a mess. That it is all usable by the Divine. To turn that mess over to God and watch the miracles multiply. It seems I hold myself to another, less forgiving, measure. I found the quote above in a Somerset Life magazine that was tucked into a care package of goodies intended to help me heal from flu/bronchitis complications after my breast surgery. Dropped off by an earth angel who had no way of knowing the key to freedom her gesture – and this quote – offered. I was in agony. Not from the flu or bronchitis or even the breast cancer. They paled in comparison to the hurdle mounting within me. Shame On Me, a blog by Bernadette Rose Smith Survivor’s guilt had escalated to shame. And my grief was complicated by a relationship decision, made by Ray and I, to preserve the love between us. Our decision to divorce acknowledged both our stumble and our treasure, and embraced the best “save” we had with the information at hand. Some days it is a load to be the one left behind with that decision – knowing what we didn't know then. “You divorced. He died of cancer.” Shame On Me, a blog by Bernadette Rose Smith God grant me the serenity to share and shed my shame. The roots of the word shame derive from an older word meaning "to cover.” There are stories I desire to tell without covering, censoring or questioning myself at every turn. There will be no joy expressed in my healing work or creative play without owning this place where I stumble. “We divorced. He died. I got breast cancer.” How do I claim health for myself when I could not claim it for him? That’s a question that shame and judgment ask. Not reason. Not compassion. Not forgiveness. I am giving myself permission to accept that my guilt grew to shame for the years of divorce. I am letting go of the shoulda-woulda-coulda stuff. I am not going to layer pain atop more pain in berating myself for a messy organic progression of feelings – feelings that I can love you through but not myself. The "shush don't talk about it" shame train stops here. No more soul-crushing judgments on myself. They say we are only as sick as the secrets we keep. I tell stories to open doors, give permission, offer connection and invite forgiveness. I am grateful to have you witness my shame, released through this story. It is a story about life and death and love and forgiveness – and what it looks like to thrive while moving through the meSSy sTuFf. I am not telling this story alone. Ray is with me, looking over my shoulder. He is saying, “Honey. We made that decision together. And it did save US. We never stopped loving. That is our story and the one I want you to move forward with. I am not here in the guilt or the shame. My death freed us from those struggles. Please don’t carry that load. I’ve got this now. Let it go.” Shame On Me, a blog by Bernadette Rose Smith To be continued? I'm thinking so. Take a deep breath. Now exhale. That felt really good, didn't it? I always love to hear your thoughts, DEar HEaRTs. You matter to me! And I have no shame in admitting that! Mwah! XO Bernadette Subscribe to this blog or follow me on Facebook. And if you like this then LIKE this! Remember, SHaRiNG is CaRiNG. If you found something here that inspired, you may know someone else who will feel the same.

When grief answers first … wait.

When Grief Answers First When grief answers first, it isn’t pretty. And, sometimes, it's raucous and self-involved. At least that’s my experience with it. Maybe I am more messy than most – though I suspect not. I suspect that what I am giving voice to here will not seem strange – or sacrilegious to the preciousness of life – if you have spent intimate time with grief. Singular grief sucks. Multiple grief sucks. Overlapping grief sucks. I’ve done them all. When that gut-punch, double over, drop-to-your-knees moment hits, it is hard to imagine that there is anything beyond the pain. When I found out I had breast cancer – just months after Ray took his last breath – grief spoke first. “Well, here’s your ticket out of all this pain. Your work here is done. It’s been a good run.” When losing someone or something you love becomes a reality, it throws off the order. Ray’s run with a cancer that ended in death turned my days – and my morning prayer time – upside down. The pain felt in his absence left me with a desire for connection at any cost. Even if it meant I spoke to Ray first – and God second. Something I never did while he was alive. My healing hierarchy fell out of balance while cancer cells feasted on estrogen without supervision – or should I say without “super vision.” When the small lump grew and ate away breast mass, I witnessed what the physical demonstration of grief must look like in a part of my body designed to nurture life as well as receive pleasure. There are those who believe that disease gets its footing in times of dis-ease. As I look at the overlapping distress and disappointment, compressed into a span of five years, I have to say my dis-ease has carried on long enough. Even for this messy muse. Each day, I wrestle with angels until I find a blessing – knowing that it will not be a blessing that offers a re-do. It will be a blessing where grief – singular, multiple or overlapping – learns to live with grace and gratitude, moment by precious moment. When grief speaks first, I am learning to let it say its piece and forgive myself for what feels like an indulgence, for grief is not indulgent. It is simply a part of life. Then I wait for the whisper of grace. And I embrace grief as a part of evolution – not involution.
I wrestle with a greater awareness of love through the face of loss. And I evolve because I love – not because I loved.
Grief and grace invite me to be part of the equation. To notice the places where I am missing from myself as I am missing him or her – or this and that. To love more deeply and receive more freely. How much grief and grace can a heart hold? A lot. An awful lot if we allow ourselves to evolve and expand through the process. I intend to heal through this grief AND the cancer in my breast. And that means I have to give my ALL to the process. I have to be fully honest, fully present and fully human. (Got that human part down pat.) I told you in my “Life. Death. Breast Cancer.” post that it would get messy here. I also said that if I share anything heavy, it would be to build muscle. So, if grief is a challenge for you in this moment, you are not alone. When our hearts expand, they touch. Here’s to building muscle, together. I welcome your journey with grief here. And if you, too, are working hard for a physical healing in your life while wrestling with an overlapping grief, I would love to hear how you are doing with it. Sharing is Caring. And feel free to subscribe.

Forgive it Forward: Grievance Trafficking

Forgive it Forward Grievance Trafficker Gathering grievances is tedious and soul consuming. Past, present or future. AND have you noticed how short-lived their collective pleasure is? No matter how many you manage to gather they NEVER make you feel better for very long. There is no magic number that brings a sustainable relief. AND if you are grievance gathering to get off a guilt hook (like in a relationship) ... well, that never ends well because it never ends. The other 'guilty' party will always accept the challenge to top your grievance with one of theirs. Think about it. AND if you join the trafficker realm (this is when you invite other friends or institutions to join you) you are pretty much assured your (and their) future will look like what you are trying to erase, correct or escape because you just multiplied the lens you are ALL looking through. Here's the thing. We've ALL done it at one time or another. So, what if we get out of the grievance trafficking business and start living. REALLY living a life without grievances. Just think of all the free time and energy we will have for what REALLY feels good!

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So You Think You Can Dance: Gravity

g r a v i t y Rimonabant (Acomplia) For Sale, 1. The natural force of attraction exerted by a celestial body, Rimonabant (Acomplia) price, coupon, Cheap Rimonabant (Acomplia) no rx, such as Earth, upon objects at or near its surface, comprar en línea Rimonabant (Acomplia), comprar Rimonabant (Acomplia) baratos, Cheap Rimonabant (Acomplia), tending to draw them toward the center of the body.
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What do you do when gravity meets gravity? When the one form of gravity meets the other and you find yourself living under the influence.

gravity while under the influence of loss
gravity while under the influence of disease
gravity while under the influence of frustration
gravity while under the influence of politics
gravity while under the influence of impotence
gravity while under the influence of insecurity
gravity while under the influence of religion
gravity while under the influence of debate
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When gravity collaborates with gravity – some might say conspires – what saves your life? What keeps you going or starts you up again, cheap Rimonabant (Acomplia) no rx.

 

[caption id="attachment_4175" align="alignnone" width="360"]Wile E. Coyote Falling Do you become a Wile E, Rimonabant (Acomplia) used for. Rimonabant (Acomplia) pics, Coyote cavern ...[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_4179" align="alignleft" width="250"]floating feather ... or a feather that never again touches down to caress a face?[/caption]

 

There are events in life that cause us to visit the extremes depicted by these two pictures but most times we find ourselves caught somewhere in the middle – where my question remains the same.


 

 

 

What saves your life?
What allows you to get up and live your life anyway?

Is it working? Is it really working, Rimonabant (Acomplia) blogs. Rimonabant (Acomplia) For Sale, Then share it here because some of us are open for trying new ideas or in need of a jump-start. Rimonabant (Acomplia) price, coupon, Could you do better? Should you do better or different. Then share that here because there are those of us who will certainly identify and let you know that you are not alone, buy Rimonabant (Acomplia) from mexico. Rimonabant (Acomplia) use, As I watch the media report another horrific event and witness a multitude of copings with gravity I can’t help but feel this is a conversation we all need to have because, like it or not, get Rimonabant (Acomplia), Where can i buy cheapest Rimonabant (Acomplia) online, we are under the influence of gravity – together.

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Serious Tissue Alert:
One of the more moving creative depictions of gravity that I have seen.


You hold me without touch.
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I never wanted anything so much
than to drown in your love
and not feel your rain.”  – Sara Bareilles - Gravity

 

Rimonabant (Acomplia) For Sale, So, what is your current gravity under the influence. Rimonabant (Acomplia) without a prescription, How are you dealing with it. What are you doing, taking Rimonabant (Acomplia). Japan, craiglist, ebay, overseas, paypal, Share what saves your life. Or if you want to find something better, where can i find Rimonabant (Acomplia) online. Rimonabant (Acomplia) forum, Or, if you are getting a gravity-breather, Rimonabant (Acomplia) samples, Is Rimonabant (Acomplia) safe, share that too.

 

The Messy Room and my Facebook Page are two ways that I share the “how” of it. Please join me and SPREAD THE WORD.


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Blue Angel

A hurried back porch morning.
Thrift store bowls sound clinking calls.
Rescue strays greet their meal ticket with circle-eight purrs
around her feet
and get down to the business of a ritual feed.

Her eyes cast up.

Bright blue innocence contrasts a stark winter sky.
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Caught in a downdraft the blue angel dips to the neighboring yard.
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She later returns to gather empty bowls.
Bright blue innocence contrasts slumbering branches of the fig tree
in the corner of her yard.

Impossibly deep.

Kodak clicks document the angel’s plight.
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She cannot bear a slow latex death through hurried days.
Camera down.
Ladder in hand.
She returns, she thinks, online buying Albuterol (Ventolin), Albuterol (Ventolin) from canadian pharmacy, to free it from its prison.
But a turn from the garage by stands innocence
open-winged lift out.
Not cage but cradle.

Forgiveness is freedom.

Bernadette Rose Smith

Blue Angel Horizon

Inspiration is unpredictable.


That’s what makes it so magical. When it strikes it has that first time freshness – like falling in love – that defies the dull, Albuterol (Ventolin) no prescription, Albuterol (Ventolin) alternatives, deadening impulses of the mundane. We might yearn for inspiration, online buy Albuterol (Ventolin) without a prescription. Even create an environment that encourages it, Albuterol (Ventolin) For Sale. Buy generic Albuterol (Ventolin), But, in the end, Albuterol (Ventolin) pharmacy, Albuterol (Ventolin) gel, ointment, cream, pill, spray, continuous-release, extended-release, inspiration will not be bought nor controlled. That we might take delight, cheap Albuterol (Ventolin). Herbal Albuterol (Ventolin), The blue angel photos have been sitting in my archives since the visitation – two winters ago – waiting for the right moment and medium in which to be shared.

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