Author: admin


Risk Connection – Even Through Our Wounds

This morning on CBS Sunday morning, Naomie Harris, staring in the powerful movie Moonlight, was interviewed.  I found her reflective and very wise about risking connection.  She was referring to the characters in the movie, but she was also speaking to the human condition when she said, “We all move through our woundedness in search of connection.”

So often people tell me, “I can’t connect because I’m wounded.”  I passionately believe, however, that my wounds are the map on the road to connection.  My wounds do generate caution and armoring.  They also stimulate my awareness of longing and need.  The are a call to develop discernment and trust.  It is my woundedness that, ultimately, propels me to seek connection if I allow it.  It is a call to risk connection.

Consider the possibility that the knowledge that we’re not going to make it through life alone is a gift more than a burden.  Our fear of connection is fertile ground for tapping.

On Karate Chop point:

Even though I resist connecting because I’m afraid of getting hurt, I accept myself, even this part of me.

Even though reaching out can feel risky, and I’m not always sure it’s worth it, I’m open to having new insight.

Even though I feel caution, I’m open to hope because I need and deserve loving contact.

Move on to each of your tapping points.  Then, tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth about your fears and caution.  Don’t force.  Follow the trail of truth to the roots of your fears.  Notice what comes up.  You may find issues for future tapping.*  You may also find that you just work through the layers of old beliefs fueling present fears that are ready to be retired.    Possibly, invite awareness of spiritual connection.  Reaching out to feel Divine Presence and feeling safe in that connection  can often make us more brave to risk allowing human love to reach our hearts.  Keep tapping, mercifully.

*For a great resource to help if your tapping brings up lots of issues, click on the link below for my colleague, Dena Rosenbloom’s,  great workbook  Life After Trauma

A Reason For Hope

img_2718hre-22016 Holiday Season

“Not being too certain that ‘never again’ can truly be achieved, I still believe that we must continue to educate the next generations about the dangers of wrongly understood nationalism.”
Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor, professor and Nobel Laureate. Died in July at the age of 87

How am I going to manage in a world with Elie Wiesel no longer in it? I long to hear his voice, crystalline in perception and unwavering, speaking of this moment in history. I want him here to point out the North Star by which we can navigate our tossed and tiny ships. Still, he left a powerful legacy. His essence and wisdom are here.

This year has been an uproar leaving many disconnected and afraid; women who are distrustful and jaded of men, children who are distracted and confused, men who have lost their centered sense of personal power. People disenfranchised. The moral compass spinning.
The distinguished and wise poet/philosopher, Mark Nepo, with whom I studied this year, said to me recently, “Don’t write about what you know. Write about what you want to understand.” I will be writing more.

How do I hold my center in a world in upheaval? How do I have confidence amid fear and worry. How do I feel safe? Perhaps, sometimes, I don’t. Perhaps it’s about returning, again and again to my heart. Perhaps it is the cultivation, on a daily basis, of moral courage and fierce determination; to not linger in strange waters when I’m knocked off course.

Despite turbulence, each of our lives continues. We will each choose where we place our energies, time and talents. This year, I completed my certification in Accelerated Resolution Therapy. Yet another tool for facilitating recovery from trauma more deeply and efficiently. I’m adding to my public Facebook page more faithfully. Please come visit for encouragement and a respectful dialog. I’ve also indexed my blog so that you can find support by category. My advocacy for all captivates, human or animal, continues. One of my deepest commitments. Lily, Susie and Emma Jane, my own dear fur girls, remain always my sustaining treasures.

As most of you know, I love novels. I learn so much about human woundedness, frailty and strength from them. I get to observe in a morality play the way some decisions take a generation, or many generations, to come full circle and be made right. One of the most powerful that I read this year is Amy Tan’s The Valley of Amazement. In it she writes, “Neglect is a surreptitious slayer of the heart. It has as its accomplice carelessness.” May we not let worry cause us to be neglectful. May we not grow careless through the distraction of perceived powerlessness or fear. God is still God. The world is still beautiful. The human heart is still capable of magnificent striving.

An article in the Washington Post said of Elie Wiesel recently, “In his lectures, he often looked small and fragile behind the heavy lectern. He commented that he hoped not to live long enough to be the last survivor because the burden would be too great.” We will carry on his legacy. May we follow his example to speak and love again and again and again.

Don’t give up. Keep growing. Keep giving. Keep believing.

Be blessed and be brave, Jeanne

“The Earth is the mother of all people, and all people should have equal rights upon it.”

Chief Joseph, Nez Perce

What I Believe

I attended the Westport Writer’s Workshop this past Saturday. I wrote this during one of the intriguing exercises and thought you might like to read it. Jeanne

What I Believe

I believe we are built for wholeness

Even if we spend our whole lives getting there

Born whole – staying whole

That seems like it would be simpler

But then the journey. We’d miss the journey

Coming back from being far flung

The experience of returning again and again

To me

How can I help?

I dropped an apple at the grocery store earlier today. Those thin plastics bags are really slippery, no? I felt the momentary temptation to put the apple back in the pile and select another. Yes, but then somebody else might take home a bruised apple. I didn’t like the feeling of that. So, I studied the apple in question for a moment, noticing several unique aspects of coloring and shape so I could recognize it and popped it in my slippy bag with the others. I’ll eat that one first. It felt good to not contribute to a stranger’s distress.

As I drove home, I thought about a workshop I’d conducted a couple of weeks ago. I was startled when putting out afternoon snacks to find that a package of cookies was actually a package of crumbs. Who dropped it? Did they even know? Did they put it back on the shelf and take another not caring? We’ll never know. Maybe.

What I do know is that kindness is an antidote to indifference. Each time I manage to be mindful enough to choose kindness, I hope I’m cancelling a moment of thoughtlessness (sometimes my own in a less mindful moment). I can interrupt the constant trail of “proof” that someone else is going through the world registering that “no one cares”. I interrupt, for one brief moment, the chain of broken cookies. I’m leaving little energetic, anonymous notes that say “I care. You’re not alone. Not everyone is trying to get you.”.

What if, the next time you bring home a perfect apple or big, round, whole cookies, you stop for a second a wonder if someone else kept the flawed one so you wouldn’t be disappointed? Isn’t perspective wonderful?