As we walk together we are strong.

Thinking and imagining the next move.

One quick, like the rabbit, one slow like the tortoise.

Magic happens, ideas are born.

Google is our friend!

Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
Anais Nin

Don’t LOOK at Me

I feel different

Alone and Afraid

Scared to Swallow, Lump in my Throat

Please don’t look at me

Oh, Lord…please help me keep those tears from my eyes

I’m mad at the world

Mad at my “friends”

For going on, like nothing has changed

I don’t fit in anymore

Nothing is the same

I want to be invisible

So no one sees my pain

Please, don’t

Notice my pain

My Journey to Peace

My Journey to Peace with PTSD

The following poem was written by Frank Ochberg, MD, founder of Gift from Within

Survivor Psalm

I have been victimized.
I was in a fight that was
not a fair fight.
I did not ask for the fight.
I lost.
There is no shame in losing
such fights.
I have reached the stage of
survivor and am no longer a
slave of victim status.
I look back with sadness
rather than hate.
I look forward with hope
rather than despair.
I may never forget, but I need
not constantly remember.
I was a victim.
I am a survivor.

Pieces of the Whole

A true mosaic is made of tiny little pieces, hand picked for their relation to the completed picture.  

Chosen by color to fit within a certain place at a certain time to create a picture.  The picture may be of something soothing to the soul, something of a graphic nature or anything the artist culls from the depths of his being and seen with his mind’s eye.

Life is like that mosaic, God’s hand gathering lives of color to form a masterpiece, a body, cell by cell.  Tiny little pieces put together color by color and forging something unforgettable, something that fits perfectly into the master plan, God’s handiwork that is continually growing and always seeking the path to Heaven.

Reflecting back upon the years of my life, I have found that the pieces fit perfectly, not always by my doing and not always understanding.  People have come and gone but the memory of them is always at hand.  Everyone that has made an appearance in my life has served a purpose, at least for that time, some I reflect on fondly, others I think about and toss them back into the dark corners of my memory.

Happiness and pain fitting together because one can’t know one without the other.  The ups and downs, the ins and outs, the ying and the yang, all mean there is a perfect balance somewhere and we spend our waking hours searching for it.  Pushing and pulling and wondering why is this happening to me?

There is an order to life, it is a perfect order and it is perfectly timed, but  while putting the pieces together there are some which are imperfect, but somehow they fit.  There are pieces of colors we know nothing about, yet somehow they also fit.  The mosaic of life can only be made by a master.

by Delila

Little Boy You

Confused am I – to say the least – By your Heart of Stone

Methodical beat – within a shell – Faint Cries for Love Unknown

Had I known you – as a boy – I’d have Covered You with Love

The kind of love – you never knew – The Love from Him Above

You never had it – reason unknown – The Boy is Not to Blame

He’s a victim – of love withheld – A Target of Their Pain