Letters from The Beast

Who do I want to be and what path do I take? Who am I as a love warrior? What does it mean and what does it look like? How do I let go of ego each and every day over and over again?  In recovery you discover there is no happy ending, actually you start to come to terms with - there is no ending at all. There is no destination and it’s not all a glorious journey you continuously learn from. Sometimes we don’t learn, sometimes we fuck up just the same as we did in the past. It’s not even that easy to forgive yourself over and over and over again. Shoot it’s even a battle to love yourself. What a silly concept, not being able to love yourself. Think about it. Why would you be afraid of yourself. Are you going to hurt you, betray you, belittle you and even abuse you? YES! That’s exactly what we do! How crazy is that? In recovery we try each and every day to make this one a little better than the last and if it isn’t, we try again. The point is we don’t give up! That’s all there

Dear G, You know what my problem is? I really expect to get what I give. 've actually argued that if you do good you get good. The truth is and this will is NOT poor me. The truth is I HAVE STRINGS. I'm attached to my good deeds. I don't do them because it makes me feel good. I do them because I hope they will make me feel good. My strings are attached to my expectations. If A then B therefore C. LOGIC!!! There is no logic to the ripple. If I throw a rock into the pond there will be a ripple but I have no control over the wind, the pollution, the flutter of the wing or the fish that thought my rock was food. I have no control over any of that. I can only control whether I choose to throw the rock or stand by and watch. I'm in or I'm out, that's all I have. If I choose to let people in, see my truth, whatever that may be, I am choosing with  no strings attached. I can not expect that you will be helped. I can not expect that I  will be helped. I can

I had my first freeze. I couldn't help. I didn't know how to stop her tears or what to say. For the first time in my career I felt useless. As she cried and told me she was scared I said nothing. As she cried and told me she didn't know what to do I said nothing.  She had been hurt the same way I had been hurt. This was not the first time I had talked to a rape victim.  This was the first time I talked to  a middle school girl who couldn't figure out the difference between what felt right and what felt wrong. I could feel her anxiety, her confusion. I know that beast well. I couldn't separate her from me. I had become her. In that moment I was a 12 year old girl again.   Inside I wanted to find him and hurt him and kick his stupid fucking ass but I had to hide that. I had to say something to help. I had to suspend her. All I really had to do was suspend her. You can't have sexual activity at school regardless if she wanted it or not.

The darkest night I can remember you say you were in your car driving from  California to Arizona. Your mission was to be close to your daughter but instead you found me. I was broken and bleeding. I was slowly dying and I was happily giving up. You came in and you  told me NO! you told me to fight. You did not fix me or even try. You simply showed me the way to fix myself. My letter to you: what an amazing man, soul and gift you are. You swept me off the ground and cradled me in your arms until the screaming stopped. My soul is connected to you. My heart is full of gratitude and I have so much more to learn.  This journey is only beginning. A new life is emerging. Everyday I make strides toward my true purpose. I have waited for the day I could show the world my gift and give mankind hope. I believe my gift is survival. Not just staying alive but emerging with a full heart. I believe my gift is to teach how to beat rape, self harm and wrongful conditioning. To slay the dem

Dear Santa, It’s that time of year December. I love December. Well I did as a child. I loved sleeping on the couch by the fire place and watching the Christmas tree sparkle and dance. As a child I never dreamed of Santa or Toys like other kids did. Sure I was excited in the morning to open presents but I was more excited to sing Christmas songs the weeks before and feel the warmth and glow of the fire and the beauty of the world around me. It was the beauty and the spirit that was awakened in  people that made those weeks between Thanksgiving and my Birthday spectacular. We had an old piano in my house growing up. I kept a couple books of Christmas carols in the bench of the piano. Every year I would take them out. I could sing each song correctly because I knew how to read music but I never learned to play the piano. Every night I would sing each song cover to cover. Well sometimes I would skip around. I didn’t like the songs about the tree as much as I liked the songs about t