My favorite rest activity is alone in bed with a good book. There is nothing like immersing yourself in the imagination of others, taking you out of your world, and worries. Thus the expression “lost in a book.”
Trauma is shock, suffering, and anguish. Right now, we find ourselves in a country divided along political lines and experiencing a raging pandemic that keeps us physically apart. The consequences of trauma are a range of symptoms, involuntary memories, poor sleep, anxiety, and a sense of doom. How will we move on from here?
There is a woman in my neighborhood I'll call Louise Barton. LB posts inflammatory news on her Facebook page, seldom providing sources for her information. I've unfriended many males on FB, but I'm slow to cut ties with women. That sure sounds like double standards. It is. I understand my sisters and know their sufferings on account of their gender. I also know that underneath the most rigid shells beat soft hearts.
Today is a difficult period, but also a time of incredible promise. When the pain keeps coming, it's easy to believe it will never end, especially when we carry a three-pound brain that latches onto bad news and conspiracy theories. In the eighth-month of each pregnancy, my mind started whispering that walking around like a penguin for the rest of my days was my karma for previous lives’ misdeeds.
People push back when I express my (now) natural state of non-attachment. "I bet you miss seeing your grandchildren?" a friend may say. "No," I say, "but it was wonderful being with them."