Freeing…a healing journey

Pain has purpose, I hear that a great deal. I believe the statement to be true. Pain has purpose and I’m learning to heal with it: the pain and the purpose of the pain. I’m learning that quietness and confidence leads toward greater strength. I’m following grace and no longer leading grace. It has been another Earth Year, another birthday. I smile. I reflect. I pray. I breathe deeply and I praise God for all of intricate, unearthing, undoing and unlearning of 52 years. I am honoring my journey more.

I scheduled a few days off to celebrate my birthday; however none of the week slowed down, my stillness was high jacked and I found it difficult to sit, to deep breathe. I believe we often take for granted the days we’re given and the time we are to spend with one another.

Our souls will get weary, our physical gets tired and the mental fatigue with personal and professional life is challenging. I do not often want to go, go, go. I’m learning to not grow bitter in my living. I’m learning to release those and their actions when being helpful, productive turns towards hostility.

What I know: I have become very protective of my time. I have learned to value it more. I long for moments of solitude, of quietness. I do not feel like I need to be seen for you to “see” me. #Epiphany

I’m unlearning that my softer isn’t weakness and I’m loving this part of my growing 50s. I’m doing things different and hopefully, better. #Smile I will celebrate this birthday without a flood of anxiety and busyness. I’ve scheduled me an integrative Thai Massage and I’ll spend a day with a friend lunching and antiquing in a small town…next month. I encourage you to trust the bigger of these days, the good things of this life. Love yourSelf better and those good humans you want/and or have will always find you.

I pray that you see your miracles, live your answered prayers and love your healing path. Knowing that we want to heal and need to heal does not protect us from doing the work. Healing is hard, life grows difficult in most parts of our journey; trust where you are. I beg you not to start over just begin where you are, begin again in those moments. I love you. I see you. ~Michelle

“When the time is right, I, The Lord, will make it happen.” Isaiah 60:22.

Reader Takeaway: Pay attention to how people pull at you and what they pull from you. What parts of you are you giving away? How much does that particular giving wounds your soul?

Hearing God—-Through Panic

Hard week with work and with Life. I had to make some hard decisions, not difficult just hard. There is always something. Something to do; some place to be; somewhere we’re required to go. Oftentimes, our to do’s are monotonous, familiar—then they become something bigger, different, something new. #Challenges. As I reflect, I’m asking myself did I pause enough to hear from God? Follow my intuition? Did I rush to solve due to my soul’s discomfort?

I have a lot on me as a single parent. I believe we all have struggles; I’m my human me with struggles. Financial hardship—any episode of lack or substantial amount throws me a huge crippling gut punch. I do not like it; I know this so I prepare; save and prepare. I am learning different aspects of my fears, concerns and love.

I love structure. I love familiarity. I love better, I feel better when knowing the how and when of things exactly. I prefer being able to “see.” I know I am at a different stage of my life. Lately, growth seems like soul stretches and the pain burrows deeper than the latest experience. I know blessings. I know God for what He is in my life. I know the good, the bad and the ugly. Yet, none of it feels like it is happening the way I want or pray for—His will, grace and freewill just shows up for my better and intentional. I’m learning to take deep breaths better. I’m learning this heaviness is not mine alone.

I know beauty as well. I know how the rhythms of life come together to heal us in those secret places. I know there is no emotional depth in which God cannot reach me, teach me. He loves me, my perfectly imperfect self. I believe Love works differently for each of us…allow it to work for you even in ways that seem foreign, real different and not necessarily the path you’ve envisioned. I’m learning not to suffer, unnecessarily. There’s no way for me to out love or out-know what is before me or what is manifesting its way towards me. I know my panic to be just as real as my faith. I’m willing to unlearn the old, the familiar. I’m no longer comfortable with avoidance. I have the capacity to study myself with love and gentleness.

I pray your new week gives way to clarity of your next steps. I pray the pain that keeps you stumbling is removed. I pray you give healing the options your soul deserves. I see you. I love you!

Intimately Worded,

Michelle

#MichelleMoments: Where are you in your faith? Are you doing well in practicing your faith, exercising the strength of your faith walk. I like to think I am practicing my faith with love. I was taught the stronger one’s faith the better we become in creating an intimate relationship with our Creator. Some of the answers we seek do not come easy, yet they come. Trust your pathway; it is personal.

Wading Through It All

My thoughts before and after….my intimate prayers are layered: “I ask for complete healing. I pray for a good report of the mass being benign. I ask, that You, Father, Creator, to be with me in whatever I may experience and or hear Thursday.” My tears have been unstoppable on most nights upto Thursday morning, 12/23. Thursday morning, my sister picks me up and we head to my appointment. She is told she cannot wait with me in the waiting room due to the new variant. She returns to the car. I check-in and go to the furthest corner of the waiting room and I begin to cry. Well, there is just too much time between waiting and seeing the doctor so all these thoughts occur. I worry on how to do this. I worry that my prognosis is going to be the worst. I worry that I’m too young for any of this…but that’s not a new worry. I feel as if all of my life I’ve been too young for all that has happened in my lifetime. I laugh-cry reminding myself none of these thoughts sound like your prayers. I pull myself together just as my name is called.

My nurse gives instructions to change and states she will be waiting by my door. I change. I cry some more. I exit the room and she’s waiting. Nurse: “Are you ready?” I respond, “No.” She patiently waits until I am. She smiles. We proceed. She goes over all the medical jargon, expectations and how to take care of myself after. I lay on the table, staring at the ceiling as she begins to locate the mass. Nurse: “I can’t find it. I’ve moved all the way to 12:00+.” (I pray some more, believing God has heard me, answered my prayer.) She’s trying for about 5 more minutes and she finds it. The mass moved from its initial location at 2:00-3:00+ (3 weeks ago) to 1:00+. I’m unsure what this means but I think it is a good thing the difficulty she has locating it. (They determined the location of growth/mass by clockwise direction beginning at the center of the areola.)

Dr. comes in and states: “Your mass is in your areola. The fact that it is moving means that there is fluid inside and that usually means benign. That is not definitive you will have to wait for confirmed testing.” He begins to explain the procedure, the sounds I will hear…..he is kind, his voice comforting. I turn my head, close my eyes and practice my deep breathing as they numb the area. I think they can hear me and it bothers me that I think I am a hindrance. I grow quieter. I stay focused on my breathing and not the pain in my areola; my thoughts: it’s not in the deep parts of my breast. I’m still lost; running back and forth from faith to fear, from fear to faith. “Red Rover, Red Rover send Michelle right over.” Once all was over, I honestly can say I felt better after the procedure than I did going in. My results come Tuesday, over the phone not in person. (Coronavirus Measures 101) Deep sigh again.

Biopsy Christmas. Grief. Loss. Another isolating round of this new variant-Pandemic-ish living. We’re not blindly going into this new year yet we’re exhausted. I pray that we will faithfully say goodbye to the fear with renewed perspectives of ourselves, of our humanity. Yes, 2022 is coming in heavier than 2021. I believe prayers, the fact that we have to be inclusive, insightful of all that is happening around us, those things occurring far away from us and within us is quite a spiritual undertaking; it is becoming traumatic, at times depressive. We turn more towards self-defeat and question our whys, neglecting our purpose. We’re not wrong. We are weary. Our souls ache, we are wounded souls.

I hope that you find yourSelf wading through when you’re not able to stand, lean, pray nor comprehend. Our answered prayers do not always reflect what we ask yet they seem to always be what God knows is for our best, at times our betterment and more often than not what we have the capacity to receive. Trust this timing of your life….ask for what you need…love even the more. We’re not lost. We’re finding our way.

Faith read: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.” James 1:17 NKJV

Intimately Worded,

Michelle

Homework: Self Study💕

In reflection this Sunday morning: My day off…I am still off my routine of things. It was struggle to enjoy my mani and massage pedi. I mindfully had to make myself sit and be taken care of— for they are doing great work.

I’m noticing that I’m struggling within the easy parts of my life. My self maintenance is priority —yet even in that I’m resolved to what is the point. What is the point in all I’ve worked for and towards to be told that “there is something there.” I’m not professing hopelessness or helplessness. I’m still trying to figure out what I did wrong. I believe I’ve had to do something wrong that requires punishment. Right?Right.

Thursday mornings are my spiritual companionship times w/ my Spiritual Advisor. We’ve been together over a year now and I would say she knows me better than most. She affirms me in who I am, how I am, how I love and how I want to be loving. She doesn’t push unless she recognizes that I am not present. She gets me, all of me. Although, this Thursday morning was a struggle too—to hear her, to want to be there. Through this tough time that I am struggling with…I am fussing and complaining about mistreatment towards me, towards others, how this world is cruel at it’s best and it’s worst; I fuss about friendships, about abuse; about it all. She quietly asks me to “overstand, to know that not everyone has your gift.”

I chuckled silently and think, I’m struggling to inner-stand, understand where I am. I acknowledge that, no one is holding space for me. Deep sigh. I am committed to surviving with thriving–this in-betweenness is difficult. This week’s wins: I woke every morning with purpose. I reached out to patients outside of working hours due to their hurts along their journey. I took two vacation days without working and finishing notes. I am planning for workshops in 2022 with strategic hope. I daily connected with my children and spent time with my granddaughter. I talked to my sister and my biological Aunt Shirley. My Koda is without a doubt the most loving furbaby ever.

What I am learning: we love easier when we allow our changes to come softly. When it feels the most is falling apart…maybe the transitions bring all we’ve wanted to fruition and all is coming together. It all looks different, fearful. We’ve never been in this position before. I never expected love throughout this type of season. Redefine Love for yourSelf. My father told me once: “Michelle you’re just running in the field of flowers.” Of course, there was an hour long lecture about relationships after that. I was a teen.☺️
It’s 30 years later and I get it. I comprehend those wisdom highlights more so than ever. I miss him.

I anticipated and wanted “Love” happy, without sadness, without work. There are consequences to our choices. Undoubtedly, there are benefits to our choices as well. Every rejection, disappointment, their “no” can possibly set us on an extraordinary different path. Stop attaching your future to leftovers, to what is left. You’re dodging bullets left and right, Woman! Rise up. Level up. Do you. Protect yourSelf with love—be loving– intuitively. This is…this betterment is actual; it is what is tangible, intangible. This journey, our blessings are necessary. Our lessons learned. Our experiences personal. Everything is happening for your good—-even the current pain of right now. Choose You again and again—intimately and faithfully.

Words for thought: Scripture: Luke 22:31-32

Intimately Worded,

Michelle

“There is something there…”

Vulnerability: November 2021

Prelude: I am flowing not forcing. I reflect, smile and I asked God for more writing days.

My days, my months, this year has been divine, purposed, productive, exhausting and loving days of hallelujahs. I am living to “do no harm” to anyone and thriving in my authenticity to be my truly different unique self.

I purchased a gym membership and I show up 2x a week at 5:00 am. I am loving it and finally seeing results after 2 months. I’m closer to entrepreneurship: professional headshots, website. My Tribe is flourishing. As an employee: I’m excelling, scheduled months out and there are bonuses that I forgot about. I witness the healing that will benefit individuals as well as generations and I am in awe of God’s purpose in my life.

Friday, day after Thanksgiving, I show up for my second imaging mammogram. I’m nervously strong, I think. Of course I’m completely turned around due to nerves. I’m in the Breast Cancer Center not Imaging. Mentally cuss the lady that left a voicemail without an address. Now I think I’ve completed a faux pau of predicting my future. Nice lady gave me directions to the Imaging Center.. I walk, yes walk, to the other building. My day off…no coffee, full of lostness and anxiety. #Michelle #DeepSigh #EarlyMornings

Second imaging is the worst. Painfully so.

Her: “Breathe. Stop breathing. Move to the left. Face me. Breathe. Stop breathing. Look forward. Look out the window.” Pain. Pain. I gasp.

Me: “Is it suppose to hurt like this?

Her: “Breathe. Stop breathing.”

My thoughts: “What have I done? Why am I here?”

She sits me in a quiet area. She comes back.

Her: “Your left breast is clear. We need to do an ultrasound on the right.” I’m still confused. Really confused but I say okay. She does the ultrasound. I realize she taking the longest time. Her: “I’ll go get the doctor.” I stop breathing. He comes in, black framed glasses and white coat. He’s real. He starts examining, searching. I don’t think I’m breathing. There’s nothing in my head. No sound. No words. He speaks: “There’s something there.”

I disassociate. I hear him. My tears fall silently as I listen. My voice whispers, “What now Jesus?”
She places back in the room. I cry. I cry for awhile. She places me in another room. I do not breathe as we discuss procedures. Her: “Do you have insurance?” My thoughts: ”What if I did not? What happens if you do not have insurance? Does it just remain there? Growing?”

I’ve never had the greatest relationship with my breast. I was a 36C at 16 and my mother was a Southern Baptist Mom to her heart; everything was covered. My breasts drew attention: Middle school boys, older men…they eventually became strangers to me. The alienation continued through childbirth and breastfeeding. I did the self-exams, my annuals they were always healthy, heavy, covered (no pretty lace bras for me) …yet they defined my femininity. They are purposeful, necessary, required. They are mine.

I ask for your healing prayers as I go in for a biopsy 12/23. Currently, I’m crying a lot. Thinking a lot. Putting their future ( my Tribe) in perspective. Trying to think…unsure of how to process any and all of this. My Tribe knows. The youngest walks away as I am telling my older two sons. I question him later. He responds: “I heard December 23rd. You’re not dying from cancer. That’s it. We’re not losing you to breast cancer.”

My sleepless nights….strange. I feel strange. Unfamiliar. I wake up crying throughout the night. I now sleep with a security blanket…I wake up holding it. I’m 51. I feel doubtful. Hopeful. Worried. My breasts —alienated. The right one seems more dominant….it never has been…they are disproportionately different in size yet it feels the heaviest. I’m scared. Prayerful.

Life has taught me and taught me well. I stopped believing in my fairytales a long time ago, without bitterness. Nowadays, I see how God places me in the center of my unbeliefs and strengthens me to wait and see, to heal. I am trusting Him for that yet wondering what if it is too big of an ask. Healing?

A few months ago, I silently asked for more writing days, for more “Me” days, for the ability to take more moments to do other things I love: soft launch of private practice, creating a woman’s support group, certification as a group psychotherapist, seemingly my goals, my wants are coming to fruition….all of this I am working on. Trusting Him for those things.; the tangibles. What I know, He answers our prayers His way.

Intimately worded,

Michelle

Persistent: December 2021

#Mammograms #Breasts #MyBreasts #BlackWomenHealth #Mass #Growth #Treatment #Biopsy #Healing #BlackWomen #Therapy #SpiritualHealth

​Take Your Moments

Happy Merry Tuesday! This is not a Christmas Post.

I’m trying to do my best in re-entering my blogging world. Life is throwing us about swiftly and profoundly in so many different ways. I continue to pull my hopeful heart together with slippery fingers. Working from home is a good thing; truly a heart’s desire. I’ve always wanted to be home with my kids. This CoVid Year allowed for that. At the end of October, I transitioned from two year employment to a new corporation. I experienced and continue to experience therapy-patient separation; a month in and there is less guilt and more certainty of my choices. You haven’t seen less of me due to life, there’s less writing when my heart overflows. Truthfully, it is a bit of fragility and intimacy— 2020 has been more than enough and then some.

I am a professional working entrepreneur. I smile as I write this, not putting myself in a box. I think as we visualize we’re more apt to find our way. I love how this new corporation gives a weekly analysis of my work habits. The analysis generates a live video and statistics of where my time is effective, productive and self-care could use more input. I love that I don’t have to have a meeting to be told to pull back. I’ve always wanted a career role or life status as to where I can be home with my children. I have that now, I’m settling within my transitions. I’m entering the kitchen more. Cooking has always been a comfort for me…it grounds me in so many different ways. Most days, I prepare lunch during my lunch hours. I love pulling vegetables out, chopping and sautéing. I love spices. Lately, I’m craving cilantro. I’m unsure of why. I think for how green it is, it’s difference among the herb family. I’ve always moved away from it until now. This link gives great insight as to why cilantro has my palette’s interest: https://tastybite.com/2016/04/5-things-you-didnt-know-about-cilantro/

When I cook, I normally cook with the home quiet. I like the chopping and the sizzling that happens. Most recently, I’m listening to music…good music, soulful music…it gives breath and breadth for me make room for thoughts o goodness and grace. Jon McReynolds has become a great favorite of my #PlayList. This song, “God is Good”—- the lyrics grab me up each time: “May your struggles keep you near the cross. And may your troubles show that you need God. And may your battles end the way they should. And may your bad days prove that God is good. And may your whole life prove that God is good.” When you make time, take a listen.

I encourage you to take your moments and to stay present within your moments. Work through what is working you. We’re graced for more. Life’s a lot more different than this new normal. Go further in love. You deserve every good thing. #BeAWholeMovement

Intimately Worded, 

Michelle 

Healing: Necessary Work

I know I haven’t blogged in awhile. As this world continues to be lopsided, broken and undergoing intense psychological warfare on Humanity; I find myself consistently in a weird wounded type of movement. Open, learning, yearning yet not passive nor suppressed….Defiantly Intimate.

The Process of Unlearning

Since last post, I completed my required 3000 hours under my deadline goal of two years—I completed them in 18 months. I have submitted my application for approval for full licensure. I have improved my selfcare with purchasing fresh flowers for my home, just because I like the idea of them. Even with this quarantine, I remain available for my children, my grandchild and my patients. I’ve tried to date….men are exhausting. That’s a whole other ordeal. #MyLife

Living Black does not leave me disconnected from any of the News, the headlines, the atrocities. Racism, the hate isn’t new. The resurgence of the Black Movement is painful, magnetic, intense and divinely necessary. This is more than a moment. Do your work, you matter. #SystemicAwareness

I want to write about the process in healing. When healing, you’re not moving pass it. You’re moving through it. Healing requires acknowledgment before insight and foresight are gifted. How are we to reconcile when the hurt is not recognized? This is where its not about “how you made me feel” takes root but rather having the capacity to self-advocate with, “You hurt me.”

I understand that we do not like conflict. Yet, it is divinely irresponsible to limit the pathways toward your healing. This is where you begin your work. We tend to rationalize reaching down or reaching backward for the very same systems, person or people that broke us.

Be willing to overturn and unlearn systems that benefit from the crushing of Humanity: WE are a powerful people. Good wins; it should. Allow people to leave when emotional maturity is lacking, when spiritual identity becomes foggy, distant, unreciprocated. Give space —huge amounts of space to those who are incapable of making room for you. Move differently. You are worthy of healing.

Intimately Worded,

Michelle

Writer’s Favorite Work: Lion’s Den and the vulnerability of Belief is one of my greatest written work to date. Take a read or re-read.

July: Healing Humanity

Our 2020 has gut punched seemingly on a weekly basis. I’m proud of how we’ve endured and persevered. WordPress sent me a congratulatory notification two days ago stating that I have been blogging for 5 years now. Wow! I am appreciative for the courage to share my thoughts in such a creative process. Thank you to all who like, follow, share and comment. I value each of you.

This year has had me in such a weird place that writing seems foreign to me. I haven’t been neglectful in writing—there just doesn’t seem to be an easy flow of writing to where readers will be empathetic to comprehend my soul pieces. I hope that makes sense. The political disconnect (truthfully it has always been there), CoVid19 continues, Systemic Racism (woundedly, it remains), Police Murders of Black Lives (#GeorgeFloyd) was not the first and the revolutionary resurgence of Black Movement. #BlackLivesMatter

#Spiritual Wellness…I made major moves this week. I’m doing a lot more focusing on the things I want and requesting those things that I require. I expected some push back on this one request and I didn’t receive it. In a talk w/ a colleague, “Michelle I’m not sure why you expected push back. You are the most sought out therapist here. Look at your location. Every location I visit you’re the only therapist that remains booked. Yeah. No, you’re not going to get any push back.” 

I looked at her strangely. I didn’t get the big head. I became even more humbled. There are times I have no clue where I am in all this. Oftentimes, I miss me. This week was a Monday’s Monday–every day of the week: I listened to a patient apologize yet defend their idea of “All Lives Matter while Black Lives do not matter.” (Actual words: “Black Lives do not matter.”) The more they talked to their Black Female Therapist, the more racist they sounded. I wrote three individuals out of work—mental health has become an issue for the majority; I was threatened “jokingly” while in session and I reported my first case of child abuse to DSS.

 This ‘work” just doesn’t leave me yet it doesn’t become a part of me either. It all causes me to pause and reflect. I move into gratefulness. I think who I am and how I am leads me toward the moments of difficulty, gives me strength and causes me to recognize where my strength comes from. I think if  I had the ability to shake it or become numb I wouldn’t be who I am as a therapist. I believe serving as a therapist has to be one of the most difficult things I had to do…and become. We’re always becoming, evolving; trying to be better than yesterday. This role as therapist is difficult while being purposefully rewarding; so many pieces of me are required. 

In my personal reflection, I notice how we neglect ourselves to make ourselves available for other people. One previous Saturday, I woke up unsure if I was getting sick or if I was just worn out–mentally and physically. I was more apt to believe in the first option, that I was getting sick. In wearing these masks my face has begun to breakout, coupled w/ stress I think it’s natural to assume illness. I needed to rest and reset. I’m going to find my space in this. I’m committed to finding my space in this. I continue to make room everyday as well as set new boundaries. I am selfish with my peace.

I pray that in our moments —those moments that we find difficult to get up that we move towards our wholeness. As we continue to be whole there is no stopping point of movement, of increase. We gain ground. Continue to gain ground. In your grounding: you may have to Reground, Reframe, Reset, Process, Breathe…Love Anyway. 

Intimately Worded,

Michelle