I’m Not Flying Solo…

It may look as if I’m flying solo
but I’m remembering to lean
into the wind, find comfort
in the safety of the clouds
and soar into the shadow light of the sky. 

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©From the Collaboration, Of Earth and Sky, Alexis Rose, photographer, Shelley Bauer

Thank you for reading my books:  If I Could Tell You How It Feels,  and  Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

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My Unchained Hands

They took my innocence at such a young age that I dreamed of climbing an apple tree and live like the squirrels.

They took my safety at such a young age that I wanted to live alone by a lake surrounded by cliffs so no one could find me, ever!

They took my choice to have my own interests at such a young age that I cringed when it came time for learning.  

They took my esteem and infused it with shame, humiliation, and embarrassment at such a young age that I wanted to become, and often felt invisible.

They took all those innate things away at such a young age that my ability to have trust, faith, security, self-esteem, hope or “person-ness” was stripped away.

Until it wasn’t!

Now “They” don’t have power over me.

Yes, there are effects from the trauma, but I prevail.

I no longer dream of living like a squirrel hidden high in a tree.
I’m open and free, dreaming of the turquoise sea
wave after gentle wave rocking me to sleep.

The more I heal the happier I am.

And when I lose my footing and start to fall
I reach out and grip the strong hands
of the many who share their strength and love
with a “chin-up girlfriend, we’ll get through this!”

I believe it, I trust it, yes, trust.

My person-ness is in tack
never to be stripped away again.

“They” took me away, I took me back
and when I nod good-night to the stars
and wake to the brand new day
I look at my hands, unchained
and know that I have prevailed.

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©Alexis Rose, Image source Pixabay

Thank you for reading my books:  If I Could Tell You How It Feels,  and  Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

The Message

Meandering through
the crystallized mountains
my spirit awakens
with the message
of those who lived long ago
yet still, walk among us

They spoke to me of
kindness, respect
and the resolve to
stay steadfast
in hope and optimism

They showed me the
ability to ride
the tiger to battle
and to surf the waves
of emotions

I tasted the
tears of fear
of loss, of joy

I felt moments
that seemed unbearable
yet, still remained perfect

Hearing the laughter
Tasting the sweet kiss
Smelling the land
Touching the stars
Seeing the sun-rise
and set

Knowing
every day
every night
the times I fail
or falter
or act in the most human of ways
if I keep my heart open
and listen
the message remains the same

©Alexis Rose, Image source Pexels

Thank you for reading my books:  If I Could Tell You How It Feels,  and  Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

 

Since Seventeen

At seventeen the only thing that mattered
was driving our cars, watching the boys
and whispering don’t-tell-anyone secrets
we knew would never be shared

Singing our harmonies, and dancing with abandon
to the sold-out audience of the window’s reflection
candlesticks as microphones
best-friend laughter and coming of age dreams

The twenties bring spouses, children, houses, and change
At first scary, but different, and new
We’ll never grow apart

It happened so quick – those different paths
separated by the winds of change that we didn’t see
our words become sparse and shallow

Apart, we both trust
silently comforted that ours is a friendship
forged in forever-ness
intuitively we know to be patient with the wind

Life settled; together again
the forties knocked on the door
our conversations are deeper and different
until we heard that song
and instantly, the window once again becomes our stage

Another decade has come our way
our friendship once tested
is stronger than ever

We honor the waves of time
and are grateful for being patient with the wind

Her and Me ~ forever friends ~ since seventeen

©Alexis Rose, image by Pixabay

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

When Darkness Calls

When the darkness makes it hard to breathe
hope is the involuntary breath I take to live

The call of the loon reaches my heart
the ray’s of the sun heats up my soul
hold on, hold on, have hope, faith, and trust

Encountering obstacles
knowing it’s a moment, it’s sometimes
hold on, have faith, and trust

Digging into emotional reserves
my fascia tight, begging to be stretched
I pull and loosen, standing tall
holding on, trusting

The obstacle seems the same
I’ve been here before
I wonder, have we all?

Knowing that this is the path
It’s okay…it’s fleeting…it’s life…for now
holding hope, having faith, feeling unabashed trust

When the darkness cries at morning light
I close my eyes and deeply breathe
and gently say, hold on, hold on
breathe deep, hold on
©Alexis Rose, Photo by Michael Shannon on Unsplash

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

 

Changing the metaphor of my healing journey

For the first eight years that I was going through intensive therapy, myself and my therapist used the metaphor that I was climbing a mountain. I never realized how rocky, dangerous, and enormous that mountain range would become.  It was an intense and exhausting climb to loosen and try to break the grip of oppressive mental and emotional pain. Eventually, after summiting many peaks I found I had descended to the other side. I stood there, surveying what I had accomplished and began walking down the trail. Respecting the process I had just gone through, I knew that using the metaphor of climbing a mountain was perfect for me at the time.

For the past 12 years, I have been incorporating acupuncture into my self-care, and to help me manage my PTSD symptoms. When I was going through the worst of processing my trauma and felt exhausted and powerless, I remember my acupuncturist saying to me, “For years, you have been running from the tiger through the woods with a broken leg. Now you are in the meadow, the tiger is pacing far from you, and your caregivers are standing like sentries, guarding you as you rest and heal.” I will never forget when he said that to me. I felt safe, and that I was protected from the fear of telling the truth, from believing the lie that the truth must always remain buried. His reassurance that day reminded me to trust the process and continue the climb, now with an added image of resting in a meadow, protected from the tiger.

I have now been on my healing journey for 10 years. I no longer see the therapist that I climbed the metaphorical mountain range with. He took me as far as he could go, and our therapeutic relationship ended over two years ago. I have been seeing a new therapist for the past 16-months and it’s been a wonderful experience. She has taught me ways of acceptance and self-compassion that I never dreamed would ever be possible. It was the next step I needed to take, and the trajectory of my healing has been amazing.

I just went through a very difficult Spring. It happens; the triggers can get the best of me and pull me down for a while until I gain my footing. When I needed some reassurance my therapist reminded me (as she has often done the past 16-months) that I had successfully fought the tiger and won. She has been telling me for over a year, that I’m a warrior, a goddess who sits on the tiger and rides it proudly. I had never told her about my acupuncturist and the tiger metaphor he used all those years ago because she was using it differently. Her words and visuals are completely different. The tiger is my friend and provides me with the strength I need. I can sit on it and relax with my lotus flowers in my hands, and exhale breaths of safety.

My healing process has been an incredible test of pain, fear, exhaustion, and strength. It’s interesting for me to recognize that the metaphors I use to help me heal have changed along the way. Each metaphor, and visual providing me with what I need to live my life with courage, and resilience.

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

image source: Pixabay

Dance to the Music of the Earth

Dance to the music of the Earth
Move to the flow of the rain

Close your eyes and sway with the wind

Stomp in the puddles ~ lift your arms ~ let it go
Scream, pull, laugh hysterically, smile, cry
Don’t look, just move

Feel that? That’s You ~ Rooted~Empowered

Dance to the music of the Earth
We are rooted as one

©Alexis Rose, image source: Pixabay
Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph