cause I am superwoman...yes I am...yes she is...

that's my ringer and rightly so...I alone can lift a freakin desk over my head and carry it up five flights of stairs...or a TV...or a couch...while the men huff and puff, I look and feel refreshed as a daisy...
choclahontas is almost moved in...tomorrow we empty the storage locker and bring the bed...that should be fun cause the oversized queen mattress has no handles and she is in the middle of the complex...so me and my superwoman strength will put that shit on my back and take it where it needs to go...if you don't believe me ask bearmaiden...she will tell you...

I love it when it all comes together like a symphony...in class today I opened some eyes...a woman was sharing issues she had with her older son, and how her younger son who is the same age as the older when his issues began, is beginning to act out in much of the same way...
now I'm not in the business to tell you where/how you fucked up because it's subjective and my opinion, but God gave me a gift to see certain things...I can't explain it...give me some information and I can see the whole picture...it's like someone puts the words in my mouth...sometimes I have a false start but I can get back on course and the words just flow...the person has to take what I say and make it their own...sometimes the words come to me symbolically and only the person knows when I hit the nail on the head...it's also not important for me to know when I'm right, because that's private to the person and it pollutes the words that come to me...

it is my belief in order to treat others you have to be one with yourself...I teach that in order to help others you have to understand who you are and what you represent, and be honest...its not just about me teaching the text because if you don't/can't process it or own it, and be able to link it to your experiences, and learn and grow, its a waste...
for example I could never be a drug counselor because I was raised with the Rastas and we all know in what they believe...don't do it myself, but I also don't disagree with it...and I do know the original cheech and chong...

so as she talked I saw the picture...so as to not attack her I gently began breaking the situation down to her...linking it to the work...but I could see/feel the pain of her sons...could feel how big son's world was spinning out of control...told her repeatedly that I was not attacking her but she needed to understand the part she played in her son's unraveled behavior...used visuals to demonstrate how big brothers world was split, and how little brother must be viewing it...talked about how her detachment played a part, and how her son was acting out her unconscious and withheld emotions...linking it to the text, to the work, to the real world...

knowledge is like a a song with no words...the music starts soft and gentle, notes uncertain...the harmony of sounds reaching the highest high as realization sets in...to finish softly..falling to the ground like snow...adding to what was already there...giving the barren, dry earth what it needs to push that tender sprout of knowledge through to face the sun...changed forever...

there was no more I could say...no more they could absorb...but they got it...they took the work, linked it to the real world, made it their own...and I know this woman will be a good clinician because she was able to face herself and be honest about her inner most notions about being with, working with, understanding and loving her children...