survival

The Best and The Worst

Featured A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
My Brookers watching me as I live out loud

This has got to be the best and the worst time of my life. I am realizing the fruits of my hard, excruciating labor. Everyone’s imploding around me – I stand tall n steady. Dead nuts steady as an island in a tormented sea. Waves, winds crashing from all sides – yet I breathe. Because I know. That it’s all just. Temporary. And I’m fine. Finally.

I’m an observer. A family of origin- tornado observer. As life fucks the unhealed. Numerous family members who’ve passed up every opportunity to dive deep. Their Spirits, their Higher Selves wanting them to finally swim in the healing waters…they claimed they didn’t know how to swim, the water was too cold, too deep…Excuses. Now they’re drowning, slowly. Publicly.

I should be that – but if not for for the grace of God – I would be that. I should be crushed by the weight of the dark history. But yet I wear survival gear and cling to a life vest. As a result, I am unscathed by the shredding winds. I am whole. As I have already seen many-a-horrendous storms and been sucked up in the torrent – 20+ years fighting for my right to be here, to be seen, be victorious.

The worst part, watching as the trauma screams for acknowledgment, validation, to be seen and heard. The wall being built higher, more reinforcement needed to close it out, shut it up. Fortify the fortress of Denial Palace. My family of origin lives here. It’s occupants smile, gladly welcoming amnesia, loss of sight and hearing as insurance/loyalty to the fairytale. The once upon a slime childhood.

Guests are welcome in the Palace – butlers offer tall glasses of shut the fuck up with a side of “smile even when you’re dying inside” crackers and “let everyone know how loving your mother is” cheese. Secrets guarded as my siblings and maternal influence, inside, are imploding. Keeping the beast quiet and alive and salivating. The old evil licking it’s lips, eyes locked on the newest generation. Ready to feed off the misery, hiding from daylight.

The best and worst playing simultaneously. On the same reel. Sadness and elation. Devastation and joy. No longer experiencing but observing. I cannot go to the Palace. MY acceptance of fake and shallow and control has expired. I don’t fit. Maybe I never did. I can see. I can see the ugly beyond it’s fancy decor. My heart breaks for all of them yet rejoices for ME…

Can I hold both at once?

resilient

Rising From The Asses

Featured A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Actual pic of “Mother”

When you weren’t looking I was having fun. When you weren’t looking I made friends. When you weren’t looking I got all A’s and B’s. When you weren’t looking I got trophies and ribbons. Praise and encouragement from teachers and strangers. When you weren’t looking I followed all the rules.

When you weren’t looking I was unraveling. When you weren’t looking I was starving myself. When you weren’t looking I kept our family secrets. When you weren’t looking I hated you. When you weren’t looking I was planning to die. When you weren’t looking I felt isolated and weird. When you weren’t looking I wished it was you who died. When you weren’t looking I could feel crazy.

When you were looking I told you I loved you. I keep our family secrets. When you were looking I followed your fucked up rules. When you were looking I believed all your fabrications about people and the way life worked. When you were looking I believed the beautiful, sweet story of our tragic, broken family. When you were looking I was the perfect daughter. When you were looking I silenced the truth I felt so I wouldn’t upset you. I silenced who I was because I always felt defeated. When you were looking I made it seem like I had a sane Mom.

Your looking, an uncomfortable look of ownership, dangerous caged rage. Those eyes tho, burned a hole in my soul. A hole so deep, my lifetimes fell in, waiting to be rescued. But you were still looking so they’d have to wait. Because when you were looking, it wasn’t safe for me to own anything. It would be taken. Any semblance of aliveness was forfeited. No choice at all, the need for food, shelter and love was ever present. When you looked, I surrendered it all, smiling. Set on fine China, dainty flowered setting that hid the tears. Because when you were looking, appearance was Queen.

When I was looking, the color turned to death. I could flirt with pink and green and orange and red but only for a minute and it surely would be detected and devoured. This fed the hungry beast inside you. When no-one was looking. It slithered, smiling, through the caverns of our existence. Spreading it’s brown paralyzing slime onto our child lives. Twisting n turning so we never could sense direction. When no one was looking. Your inner beast ran through our home salivating, relentlessly stalking. This was not a safe existence for children, when no one was looking.

Intolerable and exhausting. Swimming upstream from birth. We surrendered, we yielded to crazy, to the killing of our innocence, our right to be free, to live unburdened. There really was no choice. We handed it over because we’re just children. We craved belonging, safety, love, softness, easy breath, dreams. Sacrificing our well being over and over. The darkness victorious, stamping out our light, our dreams, our drive. When no-one was looking.

Mission accomplished. Torched souls, we assist you in drawing the shades of life, a smiling mask donned in public, living “as if” so as not to raise any suspicions about our fucked little lives. All this darkness placed inside, the saccharine sweet lies conflicting with and twisting our fight for sanity, lucidity, transparency, space.

All this “looking” but no seeing. Your eyes glued shut Mom. You didn’t really have to “see”your food to be able to eat it, now did you? You could smell the life force, the need to be stripped of our aliveness, our need to be silenced and gutted. Sensed like an animal in the night. Just to feed your emptiness. She fed from and possessed our every emotion, when no one was looking. She took everything. Our joy, our anger, pain and peace. And handed us back blankness, autopilot, apprehension, lack of self trust, hate and suspicion of others. Insanity. We learned so many things about darkness and dancing with crazy.

I’ve transformed, Mother. And what a trick this MOTHER word! I’ve stripped your ugly from my existence. No longer a subscriber. I was the one who escaped, by some small miracle, I made it. My Spirit rose up to assist me. I was made for greater things. Without your sad influence. Without you looking, I’ve dug and scraped and washed and scoured you from my loins. 30 years is a long time to live, surrendering one’s essence, in service to another. “Out of service” an outstanding book title I foresee in my future. Although, “when you weren’t looking” could work, too. My mind is free. Free to roam without restriction, censor or proper.

Thank you Mom for leading me to the edge and shoving me off. Body sinking to guaranteed demise, my Higher Self was there to catch my fall. The Human Spirit is a powerful force that can lift you up and beyond what you thought was possible. Listen to the call, take the difficult challenge of putting yourself first, staying the course and rising from the asses.

Holiday · Uncategorized

How To Survive (the family) Holidays -13 joyful hacks- you’re welcome

Featured A Fish Named Karen5 Comments

So, the Holidays, hmmmmm. I’m guessing that some of my readers may be very excited for Holidays. I am also knowing that there’s a whole other section of the general pop who are digging themselves a large hole, preparing to jump in to escape all things “family celebration”. I’m a proud member of the second, gasp less acknowledged group. Actually I’m a charter member, with 10 years of sanity under my belt 😂 (and all over my body, actually LOL).

Tis the season for hushed-toned conversations, multiplying in frequency, “Oh, she doesn’t come around”  and “He doesn’t bother with us” even “I think she’s crazy, she doesn’t talk to any of her family”. “Who could walk out on their family?” Well, there’s ALWAYS a pretty good fucking reason why someone would cut the ties with their tribe. Always. Period. It’s usually one badass warrior mother fucker who can pull this off in search of a wonderfully joy-filled life. Someone like um… like um… ME. Turning out to have found peace…away from their tragic family of origin. This, my friends, is the elephant in the room.

I write about this in support of those badassreaders I have. The people who don’t feel entirely settled when the Holidays arrive. Those who are depressed, anxious, angry, revengeful or indifferent when it comes to “family”. For those of you who are new to my blog, I use quotation marks when I write “family” because the word is LOADED – ya’ll know what I’m talkin bout. It’s in no way a normal word for me and can be very heavy. You’re feelin me.

Chances are, your “family” wants you to just forget everything that’s happened in the past and smile, be pretty and pretend like everything is normal. Hell, deep down, you WANT to believe you have the best family ever (who tf doesn’t?) – So you, against your better judgement, attend the family Holiday party —- thinking it will be fine this time. You got this. Fuck them. I’m not going to let them get to me this time. Let’s do this. Put your party clothes on and grab a bag…to carry all those triggers that are waiting for you. Happy Holidays😳

It can be very very diff to go through the motions and attend Holiday gatherings just for the sake of keeping the peace. As if. As if you want to be there. As if. As if. Usually, there’s a price… predictably sacrificing your own needs and boundaries for the sake of others’ needs and happiness. That shit never feels good and the next day we make ourselves pay for it in whatever way feels familiar to us.

Me? well, the day after, I’m curled up in a ball, feeling punched in the gut, filled with regrets, swearing to God I’ll never say yes again. So much crazy shit swirling in your head- hate for them, hate for yourself and guilt. Guilty for hating everyone and everything. Enter mind-fuck…maybe it IS me. Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing…they all seem happy 😳. Ewe, WAIT! NO.

So how does one survive this scenario? this gathering of triggers, this no-thankyou portion of family, this nothing-is-as-it-appears celebration?  I am so glad you asked

  1. put yourself first. listen to your heart and do what feels correct for you. It is your decision. No-one knows what it is like to be inside of your body. Eyes wide open, ask yourself what you need, what would make YOU happy (for a change). What makes you feel good.
  2. know that you are making the best decision for you – only you, because only you can.
  3. create a holiday tradition that touches your heart. Something specific to honoring what is important to you around the Holidays. Whatever brings you joy, keeps you centered and grounded and calm. Giving your time/talents to others or creating something for yourself with no outside influences.
  4. write about how things will be different if you do spend time with family over the Holidays. (write it out, read it to someone or keep for next year – so you can chronical your growth. If you’re into ceremony and ritual maybe you meditate on your written ideas and set fire to it when it feels complete. Sending your intention out to the Universe for manifestation)
  5. surround yourself with people (outside of your family) who support your feelings. Do not expect your family of origin to understand what you are going through. They don’t. Period. Find those outside of your “family”. They won’t be triggered by YOUR “family” shit – they most likely have different baggage and can support you in an unbiased way.
  6. stay away from alcohol if you can possibly help it. Your guard will be down and you may end up saying and doing things you prob wouldn’t have. Seriously, resist the urge with all you have. It can be so tempting to numb yourself out but save the drinking for when you are with more supportive, less triggery folks. You’re welcome.
  7. give yourself an energy bath – wipe that nasty energy off with a washcloth and down the drain it goes. Replacing the nasties with clean white or golden light. Filling in the holes that were punctured intentionally and unintentionally during your “family” time.
  8. envision a shield protecting you prior to entering a sketchy situation. Especially your heart, solar plexus (core) and sacral chakras. In no way are you a bad person for protecting yourself from negative energy. It’s brilliant and gives you a slight giggle as you try on, “You can’t have me” or “You can’t get me” or “I’ll decide what you get from me”!  delicious, absolutely delicious. Self empowerment, strength and self advocacy sure looks sexy on you. Only you can do this for yourself.
  9. be gentle with yourself!!! it’s exhausting work to challenge your family’s structure. The emotions of guilt, anger, betrayal, sadness, frustration are all a normal part of creating boundaries with people who do not respect our “NO”.
  10. make a plan. escape route, get away line, time limit, certain people to avoid. Identify what is off limits for you and what you’ll spend less time around – these suggestions all go a long way to create a sense of control over the situation. No-one has to be IN on this plan. Use when triggered and repeat if necessary. Creating and sticking to boundaries will feel MEAN initially, mostly because we were raised to not have/expect boundaries. But if practiced enuff, you’ll get over it, trust.
  11. make alternate plans for the Holiday – out of state, out of the country, Mars? And divulge these plans early so people have time to get used to the idea! There, now you can breathe deeply. Can’t see the dysfunction from there can ya?
  12. fake an illness – who wants to be with someone who has strep, chicken pox, cock-sakie (good Lord), or the dreaded flu?  Not only will you get sympathy but people will be GLAD you didn’t show up. And BONUS… you will get lots of sympathy.
  13. even if you do not attend, and you’re anything like me, you feel like shit because you’re not with your family. You feel like shit because you don’t want to be with them. You feel like shit because you are feeling relieved and happy because you  didn’t blindly agree to attend. You feel like shit because you can’t imagine it will EVER be any different. You feel like shit because you feel so alone and unloved and cast aside, betrayed, crazy. That’s a whole lot of shit to shovel. This can be very, very difficult to push through. I went through this on several holidays. It’s so important to create your own Holiday rituals and traditions.

Happy Holidays!!! 😘😘😘 Do YOU.  and let me know how it goes 💪 👑

acceptance · anyways · awareness · Celebrate · Change · Comfort · gratitude · healing · healthy · heart · human condition · Human Spirit · inner work · Joy · listen · Manifest · Moving On · old patterns · persevere · presence · Reframe · Satisfied · See · self love · self talk · soul · Thrive · trust · Uncategorized · Universe · validation

Retiring My Emotional Armor

Featured A Fish Named Karen7 Comments

Yesterday was an emotional day for me. The purging hurt so good. The death of an antiquated pattern, shedding my dumb-suit. My beauty radiating blissfully from under the decaying camouflage. Reflecting on how different I am today. It hit me hard. Like my heart was cracking open to love – love for myself. Continue reading “Retiring My Emotional Armor” →

Just A Shell
abuse · trauma · triggers

Just A Shell

Featured A Fish Named Karen7 Comments

Born into a family of dysfunction, I navigated my world the best I could, hoping to be loved, cherished, valued, held and heard. Instead I was met with disregard for my life, repeated, long-term invasion of my body, my innocence, violence disguised as love, safety/security masquerading as control. All at the hands of my parents and male siblings. I was doomed. A shell of a human. Existing in the dizzying cycle of being tossed around in the surf of life – only occasionally able to take a full breath, surface. Pieces of my personality chipped off, the tide taking them far off, away.  Never feeling the ground beneath my feet. Becoming dead inside, broken. Accepting the abnormal as normal. As violence, invasion came over me again and again I became familiar with rage. The rage that was growing inside of me. Rage that would never be recognized. Undercover. A secret rage, thoughts of revenge that would bring a sweet, savory smile to my perfect little-girl face. Continue reading “Just A Shell” →

love

In Love #21

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I’m in love with long soaks in the tub. Submerged and slippery, moist and memorable. Every time sinking deeper into existence, shielded from the sharp edges of life. Droplets rolling, streaming earthbound to join the masses.

Oh those discards, the misfit toys, traveling away from my body. The warm liquid purging the heaviest of baggage. Leaving it all out there. Effortless. My troubles lathered and cleansed. Cleansed and cleared. Draining slowly and methodically into the underworld.

This cleanse welcomed. Held in love and acceptance. No judgement, buoyant in the lovely liquid, wonderful waves wiping away the weary. I lose myself in this space humidifying my soul. A surround sound energy of contentment flooding, swirling. Im in love with long soaks in the tub.

affirmation · love

In Love #32

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Charleston SC Captured by A Fish Named Karen

I’m in love with the windy whispers through tall pines. Hushed tones of earthly exhale. Softly swaying fuzzy giants, grounded in majesty, looking upward to the sky. They creak, they groan, they cry the tune of the ancients, telling of older times, softer rhymes found in a storybook.

Just dots, we are, in their presence, the lines of heaven and tell are blurred. Lend me your words old wise one. Notes of highest angelic shrill gifting us trunkful tales. Maybe a land of plenty, land of riches, of smells and sticky feels. The voice of the ages, medicine to my soul.

My darling pines so strong and stoic, feathered and furrowed are your clothes; a green forever wardrobe of survival. Sheltering weary men, infant beasts and the aged all on the dreamy skyline of the countryside. Medicinal oils and resins, cones and needles- the Elders understood your worth. I understand your worth. I’m in love with the windy whispers through tall pines.

As the earth breathes, featherless babies, held by your plentiful arms and soft fingers, sway in your comfort. Safe, sound and serene, they sleep. Pines rooted and resilient, thriving in rocky and sandy soil. Your roots expand laterally, reaching out to connect with others. Holding hands and handing holds, all is well with earth.

Your wide base of support offered to humanity. I imagine the core of the earth meeting you with its richness and once again you and I are loved, revered for our magnificence, our presence. The greatest love affair ever imagined between heaven and birth. I dream the dream, in love with tall whispering pines.

Write, Right?
action · authentic · Thrive · warrior · words

Write, Right?

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I wish I could write like words tumbling out of an overcrowded elevator at 5pm. I wish I could write with the hype of soccer fans in Portugal. I wish I could write like my life depended on it. I wish I could write like a blizzard was delivering 3 feet of snow. I wish I could write like the excitement of Christmas morning. I wish I could write like none of my fears were awake yet. I wish I could write like I was brand new on this earth. I wish I could write smelling the salty air of a stormy sea. I wish I could write and couldn’t stop. I wish I could write like a flight to Ecuador. I wish I could write with the love of 10 hearts. I wish I could write until tomorrow morning. I wish I could write like the thundering paws of a black bear. I wish I could write with knowing. I wish I could write with visionary precision. I wish I could write like a kiss on the forehead after a long day. I wish I could write with inner child squeals of joy. I wish I could write with the power of jet engines. I wish I could write and see how I am helping others. I wish I could write with clarity and organization. I wish I could write feeling the encouragement of a good mother. I wish I could write and make it all right.

I will write like words tumbling out of an overcrowded elevator at 5pm. I will write with the hype of soccer fans in Portugal. I will write like my life depended on it. I will write like a blizzard delivering 3 feet of snow. I will write like it’s Christmas morning. I will write like my fears are still sleeping. I will write like I’m brand new on this earth. I will write smelling the salty air of a stormy sea. I will write and not stop. I will write like a non-stop flight to Ecuador. I will write like the love of 10 hearts. I will write until the sun comes up. I will write like the thundering paws of a black bear. I will write with a knowing. I will write with clear vision. I will write like a kiss on the forehead at the end of a long day. I will write to the squeals of joy from my inner child. I will write with the power of jet engines. I will write and notice how I am helping others. I will write with purpose and organization. I will write with the encouragement of a good mother. I will write and make it all right.

Comfort · exploration · gratitude · happiness · Joy

In Love #31

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I’m in love with colorful morning sunrises. Isn’t it just perfection the way a sunrise colors the land? The dark giving way to a deepening, drenched and delightful crayola horizon. Set on go, the peach and firey fuchsia showing up together, never disappoint.

Burning and stretching its way across the east. A front row magical sense of morning, this sacred theatre. Shades morphing as the minutes chase across the stage. My morning schedule halted and once again, I am rescued by unexpected beauty.

Glowing, dancing aliveness showers surfaces on purpose, with purpose. My home vibrating and the inanimate coming to life. Colors bursting from darkness, quenching my whiney morning soul.

I take it in. I hold it close. Essence captured in small sips to save and use tomorrow should the clouds roll. A timeless trademark of magics’ promise. Filling my body with hope and beauty I stare into its sky eyes. Glowing, growing, gone! I’m in love with colorful sunrises.

acceptance

Don’t Forget to Stop For Gas (lighters)

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

Imagine a physician telling you that if only you had better thoughts you wouldn’t be having the physical issue you’re having. Just think more positively. Just focus on what I tell you to think about and all will be fine. You must be overly dramatic that is why you are having _______ problem i.e. a broken back, irritable bowel, torn ACL, rheumatoid arthritis, colon cancer…. if you just stopped thinking about your physical probs, then they wouldn’t be an issue. You’re creating these probs. Eye roll.

Wow, we didn’t know we had so much power. So basically, our afflictions are our fault? Great, another reason to hate ourselves, blame ourselves for our physical problems.

I think so many practitioners are not well equipped to deal with strong emotions and honest frustrations about health concerns. This, “you need to be more positive, look on the bright side and you will get better” – is pretty dismissive and alienating and also adds additional layers to our burden.

Sometimes life seems like a dirty trick – things go awry like menopause, for example… I met this naturopath who’s been pretty decent with my care. Lately she’s basically telling me that hormones are controlled by the brain and that I’m creating my insomnia, hot flashes, excessive peeing, mood swings, etc in my mind. Wait, What? Oh, the anger that arose in me. Seriously, I can only pray and hope she “gets” the opportunity to experience how “in control” she is over the hormonal changes in her body.

Talk about shaming someone for something that’s supposedly “natural”. So if we think better thoughts there would be no such thing as menopause…shit why don’t other people know this truth? Market that shit! That the best kept secret.

Said Dr. wants me to feel better about what’s going on. So easy to say Doc, Oh so you have a bulging hernia?, you don’t sleep more than 4 hours a night?, you’ve gained 10 pounds with hormone fluctuation?, etc… I think it would better serve you to bypass the loss, bypass the pain, bypass those dark thoughts, they’re not useful – they have no information for you…bypass yourself and your body after all because, shit, that body’s not a safe place to be. Transcend that mother fucker. Could you imagine such a perspective?LOL

Pretend you’re someone else, pretend it’s not happening, pretend you have a better life. Smile for fucks sake. Because then others won’t feel so helpless, they won’t have to see your struggle. Just shut up about your sorrows, ain’t nobody got time for that. And Jesus Christ, try harder, what’s wrong with you. If you put more effort in this wouldn’t be happening to you. LMAO

I hope I made you laugh! We must laugh because if not, then we’d cry and Lord knows, that’s not allowed, we might get sicker hahaha. I enjoy writing about the gas lighters on my path. I hope you have been entertained.

acceptance

Branding

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?
View all responses

My third tatt would be a word. Not just any word. One that has meaning derived from experience, the saddest experience. The honor I would feel with a brand such as this would be cathartic. I mean, the word ANYWAYS has a special place in my traumatized heart. I was forced to surrender my safety and emotional well being to those whose needs were more important than mine, ANYWAYS. I suffered in silence while smiling and pretending that my family was normal, ANYWAYS. I had so much hate for my abusers but was expected to behave kindly, ANYWAYS.

When life seems like a dirty trick, still, 24 years clawing my way up the mountain, out of the darkness, just to make a decent life ANYWAYS… I think I’ve earned the right to brand myself with this brilliance. Placed on my right, receiving hand as I will receive all life has to offer ANYWAYS.

anyways

The Best She Could

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I think “she did her best” pushes a lot of buttons if we try to ingest those words TOO EARLY in our healing/unwrapping process. I am 20+ years into hardcore healing and I can just NOW try on this phrase “she did the best she could” without triggering the, Yeah but…
So much would rise up – anger, disgust, hate, rage – in side of me. It felt as though this was said (by others) to somehow minimize or negate the damage done. To free her of any wrongdoing, to wipe the slate clean and suddenly she is Snow White and I’m the circus act Tasmanian devil with nowhere to land and be validated. Just me running frantically and trying to get people (mostly family) to believe me, to side with me, to leave her like me…but met with the exact opposite… Like – what is your problem?

This is a complete mind fuck and when finally free from this AND the people who hold you/us as the ones who “can’t move forward, are stuck in the past, want to make people pay…bla bla” we can separate enough to see that she couldn’t give/do/be anything different because of her disowned trauma.

We can still hold our experience but she had hers also. We had needs, but they weren’t met. We needed safety, unconditional love, to be seen, heard, cherished, held, etc.. it’s very possible that 2 experiences existed and that’s ok. It doesn’t wipe ours out. Our trauma is no less valid just because someone denies our experience.

Own it, and all it comes with because this is the catalyst for something greater. Accept the challenge of all challenges and unpack all the heavy. I promise you there is light interwoven on your healing journey. Tap into the body held memories, the stuffed feelings, the fires that burn inside…the body never forgets but with some focused work, will relinquish it’s pain, it’s frozen, it’s swirling, it’s heavy material for healing. It will all work out, you will survive and thrive. Do things differently than she did – Never stop, never give up on who you came here to be.
You got this ❤️

The fire that burns inside, let it out
action

Recipe for Suffering

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Afishnamedkaren’s garden happy place

Today’s got me like – what the hell is going on?! Meeting up with so many disgruntled ppl on my path lately. I check myself because I may be adding to the mix in some sort of way. We usually are…. Some folks come at me wanting to slay all the good, seeming like they want me to pay, to drive me down, want me to be miserable too. It can feel personal. Evil. Tricky. Messy.
Well…no. I’m not havin it. It helps me to imagine their heartache, trauma and maltreatment they must endured as a child – because THAT’s why they act out on others.
They have not been able, for a plethora of reasons, to rise out of the trauma mud. Most often it’s easier to vomit your self hate onto others rather than to sit and digest the feelings coursing through your body and contain them.

Understanding and having Empathy for people who want to drive us down does not mean we are giving them a free pass to act out on us. NOT AT ALL !

We can be understanding and still have boundaries.
We can be understanding and still have our power.
We can decide to not take their attacks personally.
Because It’s not personal.
Be the pretty in a sea of ugly.

Putting our needs first is key. Walk away. Far away. Choose a different path, literally and figuratively. Say no. Don’t show up to fix it, you cannot fix them. Again, you can not fix them. Decline the invite to the anger party. There will be many.

The only thing we can change when purposeful/targeted conflict and aggression come our way – is our attention we give to it. And how we support ourselves. Pull yourself in. Pull your energy back to you, away from harm. Easy to visualize…Protect yourself, this is powerful shit. Jackwagons are everywhere.

Unravel what you may have learned about taking the blame…
I deserve it
I’m worthless
It’s my fault, must be me
I can fix them/this
It will get better soon
I feel sorry for them, I’ll just give in

Replace with…
I am loved
I can ask for help/validation
I am protected
I walk away from disrespect
I am powerful
There is nothing wrong with me, never was
I will do what it takes to feel safe
I can be content in a storm
Breath in calm, exhale their angst back to them

So let’s stop talking about a kinder, gentler nation (and people)- – if we’re not kinder and gentler with ourselves first!!! Because we can spend ALL our energy on trying to CHANGE other people and none of that means a damn thing. It’s actually the recipe for great suffering. Wanting something for someone else makes us suffer. Because they’ll change on THEIR schedule but usually – not at all.

Love yourself harder…this is what thriving looks like. Thrive like someone left the life gate open ❤️ because it is. It is.

acceptance

Gratitude 11/27/23

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

For The Love of Gratitude 11/27/23


Today I am thankful for the ability to SEE. Visual acuity? Yes, of course… But not only the ability to physically “see” but the DESIRE to self heal. Excavating through the valleys of the human condition- seeing what is hidden, disowned, denied in ourselves…is what I’m most thankful for.

Even if. Even if what I see isn’t pretty.

acceptance

Silver Disobedience

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Silver Disobedience

I stumbled upon these two words on a reel just recently. Silver Disobedience. Immediately joy and a sense of knowing spread across my being. I’m at the age when the white/silver is methodically tip-toe-ing around to frame my face. I should, truth be told, be 100% silver/white by now. I am obsessed with it. It looks badass or I feel badass or maybe both. Yeah, definitely both. I know very few people my age (and even younger) who embrace this look. My own hairstylist is telling me I will look like a hag. LMAO. A hag???? seriously, my face is not hag-ish so I think we’re good.

I’ve absorbed all kinds of fearful comments from well meaning family/friends. “You’re gunna wear your hair like that to __________’s wedding?” “You’re eyes are a warm brown, grey/white are cool colors, it’s going to look terrible”, “You’re gunna hate it.” and lastly, “gray doesn’t go with your brown hair”.” It’s really shed light on the magnitude of fear women have about showing their age, about looking perfect and young. There seems to be paralyzing fear around being seen as Middle Aged and (dare I say…) Elderly. God forbid we relax these rigid, outdated, self imposed “rules” governing how we show ourselves in the world. Come on now, it’s not a secret that we’re all aging.

Personally, I have some pretty strong feelings about aging honestly. I am in love with growing older, so many of us do not get the privilege of growing older and leave this earth before the first signs of aging are apparent. I earned this shit, no longer dumbing my existence down. I have embraced the bullshit of my younger years and transformed my life entirely into something they didn’t want me to be. Unrecognizable to the people who chose to play small. This is the good stuff. The beginning of the age of wisdom and truth. A natural process that should be nurtured and revered not hidden and shamed. It’s a pleasure to be alive. It’s my pleasure to experience life unfolding.

Wise woman, Crone, Elder, Sage…many terms, all beautiful, I think. I feel the honor, no horror. I respect the process. I am the process. We are the process. No apologies. Silver Disobedience because I just don’t make any room in my life for societal perceptions. I’m not interested in maintaining a façade. It’s important to me that I honor every year I’ve had on this earth, it’s all valuable and honest. I’m not trying to be 20 or 30 or 40 or 50 again – I did that already and this is who I am today. This is what I look like today – Silver Disobedience – because I’m not conforming and changing how I present – for you.

I smile when I look in the mirror. My reflection looks wise, self aware and beautiful. I am a slave to no-one, to nothing. I choose to live out loud, loving my own skin, hair and body. Today, it’s as good as it’s going to ever be. Stop chasing time and stand still in this very moment. Who you most deeply are is underneath all of it, she’s in there, she craves freedom and expression…. time to show her the way out.

acceptance

A Container For Sadness

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

Like a heat rising in my shoulders, sadness rises up and drowns my smile. Covers me in warm mud dragging me down to places I wish to avoid. This child inside calling out mimicing the barred owl. Is anyone listening? She calls out into the insect symphony. The sadness, too heavy, supported only by my allowing, spills around me flooding spaces I don’t recognize.

Ancient supplies this outpouring. Overflowing the container marked for sadness. No shortage of despair. It’s got a voice now. Nothing lost in translation. My body recalls lifetimes of heartstop, eons of tragic, scripts crafted by ancestors. I weep as the magnificence of remembering is spiked with deliverance of physical pain. Gutting my solar plexus as I stand in my aliveness. Shredding my throat chakra when I speak the words of my truth. Smashing my 3rd eye with the stay small message. Oh, then my heart, my beautiful heart – saturated with loss and love ripped from it’s protective cage and thrown to the floor like a used face cloth.

How big of a container would I need? To hold these lifetimes of sad. All that is carried must be gathered up and held and loved and revered. Like a mother’s love, safe, covered, hidden from the cruelty that surrounds. A good mother loving my sadness, witnessing and holding the mess of me. This is the remedy, a quest to open a vessel large enough to hold it all.

acceptance

Hopeless Never Wins

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There is beauty in all of it.
Pic property of afishnamedkaren

Tell me it’s hopeless
And I’ll tell you you’re a liar
Then I will show you you’re a liar
With a smile
With grace

When you own your personal power
When you live in your truth
When you realize your original medicine

Nothing is truly hopeless
Hopelessness is the lie

Abundance

When I Sleep

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Picture credit A Fish Named Karen

When I sleep I am free. A freedom that surges and races like a rush of possibility. Glorious vivid colors and images unforgettable with their tag lines and feels. Words and phrases in various languages remembered upon my waking. Repeated over and over on my lips – no logical explanation. A fantasy world rich with prophecy, symbolism and fortune. Usually.

Lasting images can be brought back to life even years after. The details, players and setting recalled like it was the first time. Like I’m brand new. Like it’s all playing out. I record them best I am able. To reflect on, to ponder the wisdom contained. To feel alive in two worlds. To embark on a field trip surrounded by scenes drenched in color. Without a chaperone, someone left the gate open, I experience the wealth of the universe. Alone.

No rules, nothing shortening my inhale or exhale. I lock this experience into my body. Replacing all dis-ease. Long, slow, mindful ease accompanies these wide eyes. Take it in, allow. Come to me my longtime companion. I can’t help but giggle at this privilege. My inner child tickled pink that I accept this mysticism without doubt. She is relieved that I never discount what is seen, felt, heard – like they would want me to. Passing this off as some psychosis or medical crisis. Jealous.

My inner babygirl welcomes play in all forms. I indulge whenever possible. Allowing calls in the lovely. The carnival of thoughts, scenes richer than eyes open. Saturated yet simple. The messages come in, captivating all my senses. I am all in, all about it, it’s all good.

connection · hope · presence

Crabs Are A Vehicle

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These precious two stayed with me for 45 mins crabbing. They were so sweet. Owen and Shilo. I love children. They were great to be with. She was begging me to let her go swimming 😳. I needed to talk her out of jumping into the muddy creek, especially so when I found out she does not know how to swim 😳. A family member finally showed up, asked me my name, let them know that I was in charge of watching them now 😳 I wanted to be angry about that AND for the way that adult presented (super drunk) but I consciously chose, instead, to just simply BE with these kids because obviously they need safety. Imagine being handed over to a complete stranger? OMG
They so craved attention and someone who was present and available. Owen wanted to talk me out of my crabbing net, hook, bait, bucket and honestly, I almost fell for it – his eyes were so full of joy 🥰 I wanted to give them EVERYTHING. I wanted to steal them and take them home to love forever…but instead I shared a nice afternoon with them by a muddy creek, catching crabs and talking about nature. You should have seen how proud they were to catch them all by themselves. Taking turns with the net and string. Justin and Olivia and their dad joined us too. And the two newcomers took their turns with the net and string.
Of course we threw all of the 16 back after observing them a bit in the bucket. They were green crabs and way too small.

Every once and a while we are reminded that our calm presence just might be a magnet, a gift for those in need.

We are all exactly where we are supposed to be at any given moment.

We can be there for strangers yet not feel pulled out of ourselves (overextended).

We can remain in our center (not triggered) despite others trauma energy.

Material things are fine but what we all really need is connection.

We can be powerful in the lives of others simply by being ourselves.

Lastly, that having no plan, no agenda, no control over a situation makes you available for rich, spontaneous, meaningful interaction.

Maybe more adventures with these two this week. One things for sure, they need 🙏 + ❤️

I told her that she could hold the net as long as she went and put her swimmies (arm floats) on creek is at least 6 ft deep right here.

Animals

We Are Giraffe

A Fish Named Karen3 Comments

Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?

Giraffe and I, so many connections. Necks, long and lean, both our strength and our weak-neckss. Feeling super tall these days, at my five-foot-three bare bones and all neck-Ed. My energy though, is as tall as can be as I shed what’s held me down, what’s held me out what’s held me back.

Sticking my neck out, I help right the wrongs creating flow and ease. Giraffe, easily able to reach up for food, nutrients, dessert, sustenance, she is satis-pie’d. Like a G-neck I travel higher within myself for fulfillment – or is it filament? as I am light.

In the neck of time I arrive sure footed and savvy, at break-neck speed to tackle issues. Like G I, too have horns, tiny, unseen but felt if need be. “Mess with the horns and you’ll get the giraffe or is it Mess with the giraffe you’ll get the horns? Either way it’s a slippery slope-like back we have.

Yes, our ears big, standing at attention on a funny head, we focus and listen for trouble. But at the onset of any riff G-raff we stay close to home, make a go of it, relying on blending in, turning away from chaos, disappearing.

At times we are invisible, certified shape shifters -Giraffe and I …sisters from different misters, equally underestimated, overlooked. Comfortable in our patterned skin, homebodies are us. GirAfrica and the You Es Hay, our language of love, acceptance and tolerance universitally wonderstood. We arrive seemingly aloof, unassuming, mild and pleasant. Until we’re not.

We are Giraffe.

appreciation

The older I get

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The older I get I sink in to what’s now. Like a bird settling into a nest of hopeful. Accepting the upsets, the seemingly unfair aspects of my life. For they, too, are just as part of the story. Disowned or welcomed -all pieces visible, named. Nesting in the comfort of the familiar held together because I, like the bird, decided to take the time.

I wasn’t aware back then but I was preparing for my eggs. Prepping for my eventual birth which is now. The birth of Me. Stepping into my own power, the less traumatized version of myself. My presence secure, out of the scathing, scouring elements that shaped me. I

In a nest. A dwelling I’ve created, with the help of some really beautiful spiritual souls. Some winged no doubt. But this nest is a coveted solitary soft landing in a harsh world. A place of rest and birth.

Welcome home I whisper to the bird within. She smiles because she knows what home feels like. She knows the comfort of the familiar. She knows where she belongs. The older she gets.

hope

Hopeless is a Lie

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

Tell me it’s hopeless
And I’ll tell you you’re a liar
Then I will show you you’re a liar
With a smile
With grace

When you own your personal power
When you live in your truth
When you realize your original medicine

Nothing is truly hopeless
Hopelessness is the lie

The stone profile on the right reminds me of my Mother. She would never approve of any of my posts, however, she would approve of this view I captured on the CT shoreline. RIP
allow

On Crack

A Fish Named Karen1 Comment


Perfectionism……………………….
Per-fect-shun-is-ummmm. Hmmm, shunning the perfect, the pressure, warped sense of acceptable. No more reliving what we’ve been taught. Release the grip on the torch we’ve carried to keep ourselves in check and appear flawless. Allow the cracks to happen…how else will the light get in?