What is my anger telling me?

What is my anger telling me?

More than two years ago my father died.  His death was the long slow decline of old age.  It was as if over time his body gradually stopped working.  Over the years and months, we sat with him, shared stories with him, cared for him as the end came closer. 

He planned his funeral nominating music and the party that would follow.  We talked about how he wanted Mum to be looked after. 

But we never talked about how much we would miss each other.  Instead we argued! 

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How to be with the uncomfortable parts of self...and my love of brownies!

How to be with the uncomfortable parts of self...and my love of brownies!

So I lost my nerve with my writing.  It has been months since I have pondered my experience of the world on the page. Something about ‘that is not how it is done’ became a bigger voice than I could battle.  So rather than battling, I let it have its rein for a while.  I sat with it, I wondered and I discovered a little wounded part of self, who believed she was never good enough.  We became friends, we played games, and rather than trying to convince each other who was right and who was wrong, we eventually chose to accept one another for all of the messiness and the incompleteness that we are.

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Group Therapy - an invitation to meet life

Group Therapy - an invitation to meet life

Group therapy is the most amazing experience

Whilst I learn a lot about myself in individual therapy

And explore the possibility of alternate ways of being

It is in group therapy that this learning is magnified and my way of being is most actively transformed

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