The Human Popsicle of Self

The Real Teachers of The Unknown

explore the infinite field of shimmering potentiality

Ode to Puttering

The Language of Heaven

Seeing through the voices in your head.

What fear does to the heart’s desire.

Is there a crazy person running your life?

A Radical Act of Reclamation;

Giving yourself to the Unknown as an Expression of Love and Faith.

Hi Friends,

Here's a good story about the priceless benefits of cultivating a practice of presence, grounding, and a willingness to be with what is arising before something triggers you. As life would have it, the story is a recent one, and it features yours truly!

Last week some old friends of mine gave me a memory foam queen mattress because they are moving out of town, and, I suppose, because I wanted it. (The gift inspired an entire renovation of my home office, I wound up situating my desk in front of a big sunlit window that has gone unused since I moved in. Now when I work I look out over drifts of snow at a far off hint of horizon through the naked maples standing dense sentry in the front yard. It's incredible how a spot can go unnoticed in a small house for a couple of years, and then oh! a perfect arrangement of furniture changes the whole vibe. Now I never want to leave, whereas for the past two years all I could do was furrow my brow and shake my head in confusion when I looked at this corner of the house. )

The good story I promised, however, lies elsewhere. My friends and I had set up the mattress pick up date last week, so there were several days to prepare. 'It's a beast' as my friend put it, and it needed to be bundled on top of my little red Yaris and ratcheted down to the roof.

If you don't know what ratchet straps are there's a photo of them at the top of this email. I know, I know, they are very beautiful and spiritual. Basically ratchet straps are heavy duty straps used to tighten and hold things onto other things. Such as mattresses onto car tops.

The day of operation mattress transport I did a rendition of my usual morning routine; made a cup of coffee, took at hot shower, did some yoga, and meditated with a friend on zoom. Once done and smoothed out with these lovely rituals (more on rituals at another time) I headed down to the basement to resurrect the old tool box of ratchet straps. Earlier in life I ran a large Community Supported Agriculture vegetable farm (I could write volumes on that chapter), and used ratchet straps regularly for all sorts of farm related things.

I hauled the tool box up the basement stairs and plunked it on the kitchen table. It hadn't been opened since packing up and leaving the farm in 2016.

I took out the ratchet straps, there were 5 all told, and discovered that there were covered in rust, and the ratcheting action couldn't really do its thing anymore.

I worked them around, trying to loosen the rust, straightening the straps to see what I had to work with, and while doing this I notice something. I was experiencing a huge wave of fear and anxiety. The more I handled the straps and looked at them, the more my mind raced, my knees felt funny, and a myriad of emotions swirled up.

What was going on? Something big.

I am grateful to the 9 years that I have dedicated to inner work. It only took a second to pinpoint that I was having a huge stress reaction to the ratchet straps (more accurately to something that they represented), and about 3 seconds for presence to start to arise.

I gently instructed myself to notice what was happening. The reaction was big! But, as soon as I started to breath and bring presence to it, it was instantly easier to be with. At that moment the main insight I had was an appreciation for the size and degree of the reaction, and a compassionate understanding that 'ok, wow, this is something really big for you."

There was no judgement in me about it. It is easy to go straight to awful self judgement and self talk when you notice that you are having a reaction, a panic attack, PTSD, whatever it may be in your case.

I could have easily berated myself saying 'good grief Evangeline, you were at the farm years ago and still this is a big deal for you?' or 'Come on, get yourself together, get yourself out to that car and deal with it.' Man up in other words.

Instead I just watched it and let myself appreciate just how traumatized I was about running the farm on my own with two little kids. The ratchet straps encapsulated all the work I did on my own, and the shear bulk of the operation. (Those thoughts could be questioned, but in that moment it was best to hear that traumatized part of me out, let her talk.)

Triggers like this are like bombs, and when they go off, they GO OFF. Inner work is about cultivating a stable peace and groundedness so that when they go off we can abide, we can sit there and be with them without critical commentary and self judgement.

Once I sat with myself for a minute or so, just there, looking down at the straps, what I call the 'adult presence' came online. The adult presence (which is really actually ME) saw that I could drive the mile to the dollar store and buy new racket straps that weren't rusty and probably everything would be fine. I could take it in baby steps.

Looking back now, my best guess is that this trauma is not entirely healed. The trauma reaction may return, but I don't mind. Why would I? It's not me, instead I'm the one who gets to be with it, to be friendly with it, to finally let it be in the presence of someone who is grounded, knows that all is well, and is wiling to be there with it until everything is ok again.

I did end up going to the dollar store. I bought two 10 foot ratchet straps and a six pack of Oreos (a throw back to my main fuel as a farmer. The Oreos helped remind me that, you know what? I really do know how to use ratchet straps, and have probably ratcheted things to things about 2000 times in my life, and every time the straps had held fine. ), and then drove the 2 miles to my friend's house.

Standing in the upstairs bedroom with her I told her I was scared of the precise moment of ratcheting. Not carrying the big ole bed down, not hoisting it onto the roof, not driving it home on top of the car, not unloading it with my son and his friend. None of that. Just the moment of ratcheting. Her response? "I LOVE ratcheting!"

And it was so easy. And I did all the ratcheting. And you know what? I loved it too.

We have the chance to heal big things. As Byron Katie says, 'you are the one you are waiting for' and in this case, that was true. That part of me that was buried deep and so frightened by farming alone all those years ago got to come up and be met by a friendly welcoming adult. That friendly welcoming adult wasn't there when I was younger, I've cultivated her and brought her into my world, and you can do that, too.

I'm sure you know the alternate scenario, one that could play out in a thousand ways. Here's one possibility: I open the tool box, the fear and emotions mount and I don't know how to be with them. They become unbearable and I discharge them onto anything in my vicinity with less power - my cat, my kids, the wall. That's what happens. When we can't be with what is arising, we discharge it onto people, animals, and objects less powerful than us.

Another scenario could involve discharging it back into myself in the form of shame, hateful self talk, and general belittling of myself for not being able to "handle" the ratchet straps.

Presence! It's good stuff! Let's get some more!

Welcoming, grounded adult presence! It's the best thing in town! Let's invite it over for dinner!

I wish you so much love today,

Evangeline

PS - If this touched a chord, reach out. I'd love to hear how it affected you. And if you want support, I'm here for 1:1 coaching. This is the sort of thing we could work on together.

Hi Friends,

Here's a good story about the priceless benefits of cultivating a practice of presence, grounding, and a willingness to be with what is arising before something triggers you. As life would have it, the story is a recent one, and it features yours truly!

Last week some old friends of mine gave me a memory foam queen mattress because they are moving out of town, and, I suppose, because I wanted it. (The gift inspired an entire renovation of my home office, I wound up situating my desk in front of a big sunlit window that has gone unused since I moved in. Now when I work I look out over drifts of snow at a far off hint of horizon through the naked maples standing dense sentry in the front yard. It's incredible how a spot can go unnoticed in a small house for a couple of years, and then oh! a perfect arrangement of furniture changes the whole vibe. Now I never want to leave, whereas for the past two years all I could do was furrow my brow and shake my head in confusion when I looked at this corner of the house. )

The good story I promised, however, lies elsewhere. My friends and I had set up the mattress pick up date last week, so there were several days to prepare. 'It's a beast' as my friend put it, and it needed to be bundled on top of my little red Yaris and ratcheted down to the roof.

If you don't know what ratchet straps are there's a photo of them at the top of this email. I know, I know, they are very beautiful and spiritual. Basically ratchet straps are heavy duty straps used to tighten and hold things onto other things. Such as mattresses onto car tops.

The day of operation mattress transport I did a rendition of my usual morning routine; made a cup of coffee, took at hot shower, did some yoga, and meditated with a friend on zoom. Once done and smoothed out with these lovely rituals (more on rituals at another time) I headed down to the basement to resurrect the old tool box of ratchet straps. Earlier in life I ran a large Community Supported Agriculture vegetable farm (I could write volumes on that chapter), and used ratchet straps regularly for all sorts of farm related things.

I hauled the tool box up the basement stairs and plunked it on the kitchen table. It hadn't been opened since packing up and leaving the farm in 2016.

I took out the ratchet straps, there were 5 all told, and discovered that there were covered in rust, and the ratcheting action couldn't really do its thing anymore.

I worked them around, trying to loosen the rust, straightening the straps to see what I had to work with, and while doing this I notice something. I was experiencing a huge wave of fear and anxiety. The more I handled the straps and looked at them, the more my mind raced, my knees felt funny, and a myriad of emotions swirled up.

What was going on? Something big.

I am grateful to the 9 years that I have dedicated to inner work. It only took a second to pinpoint that I was having a huge stress reaction to the ratchet straps (more accurately to something that they represented), and about 3 seconds for presence to start to arise.

I gently instructed myself to notice what was happening. The reaction was big! But, as soon as I started to breath and bring presence to it, it was instantly easier to be with. At that moment the main insight I had was an appreciation for the size and degree of the reaction, and a compassionate understanding that 'ok, wow, this is something really big for you."

There was no judgement in me about it. It is easy to go straight to awful self judgement and self talk when you notice that you are having a reaction, a panic attack, PTSD, whatever it may be in your case.

I could have easily berated myself saying 'good grief Evangeline, you were at the farm years ago and still this is a big deal for you?' or 'Come on, get yourself together, get yourself out to that car and deal with it.' Man up in other words.

Instead I just watched it and let myself appreciate just how traumatized I was about running the farm on my own with two little kids. The ratchet straps encapsulated all the work I did on my own, and the shear bulk of the operation. (Those thoughts could be questioned, but in that moment it was best to hear that traumatized part of me out, let her talk.)

Triggers like this are like bombs, and when they go off, they GO OFF. Inner work is about cultivating a stable peace and groundedness so that when they go off we can abide, we can sit there and be with them without critical commentary and self judgement.

Once I sat with myself for a minute or so, just there, looking down at the straps, what I call the 'adult presence' came online. The adult presence (which is really actually ME) saw that I could drive the mile to the dollar store and buy new racket straps that weren't rusty and probably everything would be fine. I could take it in baby steps.

Looking back now, my best guess is that this trauma is not entirely healed. The trauma reaction may return, but I don't mind. Why would I? It's not me, instead I'm the one who gets to be with it, to be friendly with it, to finally let it be in the presence of someone who is grounded, knows that all is well, and is wiling to be there with it until everything is ok again.

I did end up going to the dollar store. I bought two 10 foot ratchet straps and a six pack of Oreos (a throw back to my main fuel as a farmer. The Oreos helped remind me that, you know what? I really do know how to use ratchet straps, and have probably ratcheted things to things about 2000 times in my life, and every time the straps had held fine. ), and then drove the 2 miles to my friend's house.

Standing in the upstairs bedroom with her I told her I was scared of the precise moment of ratcheting. Not carrying the big ole bed down, not hoisting it onto the roof, not driving it home on top of the car, not unloading it with my son and his friend. None of that. Just the moment of ratcheting. Her response? "I LOVE ratcheting!"

And it was so easy. And I did all the ratcheting. And you know what? I loved it too.

We have the chance to heal big things. As Byron Katie says, 'you are the one you are waiting for' and in this case, that was true. That part of me that was buried deep and so frightened by farming alone all those years ago got to come up and be met by a friendly welcoming adult. That friendly welcoming adult wasn't there when I was younger, I've cultivated her and brought her into my world, and you can do that, too.

I'm sure you know the alternate scenario, one that could play out in a thousand ways. Here's one possibility: I open the tool box, the fear and emotions mount and I don't know how to be with them. They become unbearable and I discharge them onto anything in my vicinity with less power - my cat, my kids, the wall. That's what happens. When we can't be with what is arising, we discharge it onto people, animals, and objects less powerful than us.

Another scenario could involve discharging it back into myself in the form of shame, hateful self talk, and general belittling of myself for not being able to "handle" the ratchet straps.

Presence! It's good stuff! Let's get some more!

Welcoming, grounded adult presence! It's the best thing in town! Let's invite it over for dinner!

I wish you so much love today,

Evangeline

PS - If this touched a chord, reach out. I'd love to hear how it affected you. And if you want support, I'm here for 1:1 coaching. This is the sort of thing we could work on together.

Hi Friends,

Here's a good story about the priceless benefits of cultivating a practice of presence, grounding, and a willingness to be with what is arising before something triggers you. As life would have it, the story is a recent one, and it features yours truly!

Last week some old friends of mine gave me a memory foam queen mattress because they are moving out of town, and, I suppose, because I wanted it. (The gift inspired an entire renovation of my home office, I wound up situating my desk in front of a big sunlit window that has gone unused since I moved in. Now when I work I look out over drifts of snow at a far off hint of horizon through the naked maples standing dense sentry in the front yard. It's incredible how a spot can go unnoticed in a small house for a couple of years, and then oh! a perfect arrangement of furniture changes the whole vibe. Now I never want to leave, whereas for the past two years all I could do was furrow my brow and shake my head in confusion when I looked at this corner of the house. )

The good story I promised, however, lies elsewhere. My friends and I had set up the mattress pick up date last week, so there were several days to prepare. 'It's a beast' as my friend put it, and it needed to be bundled on top of my little red Yaris and ratcheted down to the roof.

If you don't know what ratchet straps are there's a photo of them at the top of this email. I know, I know, they are very beautiful and spiritual. Basically ratchet straps are heavy duty straps used to tighten and hold things onto other things. Such as mattresses onto car tops.

The day of operation mattress transport I did a rendition of my usual morning routine; made a cup of coffee, took at hot shower, did some yoga, and meditated with a friend on zoom. Once done and smoothed out with these lovely rituals (more on rituals at another time) I headed down to the basement to resurrect the old tool box of ratchet straps. Earlier in life I ran a large Community Supported Agriculture vegetable farm (I could write volumes on that chapter), and used ratchet straps regularly for all sorts of farm related things.

I hauled the tool box up the basement stairs and plunked it on the kitchen table. It hadn't been opened since packing up and leaving the farm in 2016.

I took out the ratchet straps, there were 5 all told, and discovered that there were covered in rust, and the ratcheting action couldn't really do its thing anymore.

I worked them around, trying to loosen the rust, straightening the straps to see what I had to work with, and while doing this I notice something. I was experiencing a huge wave of fear and anxiety. The more I handled the straps and looked at them, the more my mind raced, my knees felt funny, and a myriad of emotions swirled up.

What was going on? Something big.

I am grateful to the 9 years that I have dedicated to inner work. It only took a second to pinpoint that I was having a huge stress reaction to the ratchet straps (more accurately to something that they represented), and about 3 seconds for presence to start to arise.

I gently instructed myself to notice what was happening. The reaction was big! But, as soon as I started to breath and bring presence to it, it was instantly easier to be with. At that moment the main insight I had was an appreciation for the size and degree of the reaction, and a compassionate understanding that 'ok, wow, this is something really big for you."

There was no judgement in me about it. It is easy to go straight to awful self judgement and self talk when you notice that you are having a reaction, a panic attack, PTSD, whatever it may be in your case.

I could have easily berated myself saying 'good grief Evangeline, you were at the farm years ago and still this is a big deal for you?' or 'Come on, get yourself together, get yourself out to that car and deal with it.' Man up in other words.

Instead I just watched it and let myself appreciate just how traumatized I was about running the farm on my own with two little kids. The ratchet straps encapsulated all the work I did on my own, and the shear bulk of the operation. (Those thoughts could be questioned, but in that moment it was best to hear that traumatized part of me out, let her talk.)

Triggers like this are like bombs, and when they go off, they GO OFF. Inner work is about cultivating a stable peace and groundedness so that when they go off we can abide, we can sit there and be with them without critical commentary and self judgement.

Once I sat with myself for a minute or so, just there, looking down at the straps, what I call the 'adult presence' came online. The adult presence (which is really actually ME) saw that I could drive the mile to the dollar store and buy new racket straps that weren't rusty and probably everything would be fine. I could take it in baby steps.

Looking back now, my best guess is that this trauma is not entirely healed. The trauma reaction may return, but I don't mind. Why would I? It's not me, instead I'm the one who gets to be with it, to be friendly with it, to finally let it be in the presence of someone who is grounded, knows that all is well, and is wiling to be there with it until everything is ok again.

I did end up going to the dollar store. I bought two 10 foot ratchet straps and a six pack of Oreos (a throw back to my main fuel as a farmer. The Oreos helped remind me that, you know what? I really do know how to use ratchet straps, and have probably ratcheted things to things about 2000 times in my life, and every time the straps had held fine. ), and then drove the 2 miles to my friend's house.

Standing in the upstairs bedroom with her I told her I was scared of the precise moment of ratcheting. Not carrying the big ole bed down, not hoisting it onto the roof, not driving it home on top of the car, not unloading it with my son and his friend. None of that. Just the moment of ratcheting. Her response? "I LOVE ratcheting!"

And it was so easy. And I did all the ratcheting. And you know what? I loved it too.

We have the chance to heal big things. As Byron Katie says, 'you are the one you are waiting for' and in this case, that was true. That part of me that was buried deep and so frightened by farming alone all those years ago got to come up and be met by a friendly welcoming adult. That friendly welcoming adult wasn't there when I was younger, I've cultivated her and brought her into my world, and you can do that, too.

I'm sure you know the alternate scenario, one that could play out in a thousand ways. Here's one possibility: I open the tool box, the fear and emotions mount and I don't know how to be with them. They become unbearable and I discharge them onto anything in my vicinity with less power - my cat, my kids, the wall. That's what happens. When we can't be with what is arising, we discharge it onto people, animals, and objects less powerful than us.

Another scenario could involve discharging it back into myself in the form of shame, hateful self talk, and general belittling of myself for not being able to "handle" the ratchet straps.

Presence! It's good stuff! Let's get some more!

Welcoming, grounded adult presence! It's the best thing in town! Let's invite it over for dinner!

I wish you so much love today,

Evangeline

PS - If this touched a chord, reach out. I'd love to hear how it affected you. And if you want support, I'm here for 1:1 coaching. This is the sort of thing we could work on together.

Hi Friends,

Here's a good story about the priceless benefits of cultivating a practice of presence, grounding, and a willingness to be with what is arising before something triggers you. As life would have it, the story is a recent one, and it features yours truly!

Last week some old friends of mine gave me a memory foam queen mattress because they are moving out of town, and, I suppose, because I wanted it. (The gift inspired an entire renovation of my home office, I wound up situating my desk in front of a big sunlit window that has gone unused since I moved in. Now when I work I look out over drifts of snow at a far off hint of horizon through the naked maples standing dense sentry in the front yard. It's incredible how a spot can go unnoticed in a small house for a couple of years, and then oh! a perfect arrangement of furniture changes the whole vibe. Now I never want to leave, whereas for the past two years all I could do was furrow my brow and shake my head in confusion when I looked at this corner of the house. )

The good story I promised, however, lies elsewhere. My friends and I had set up the mattress pick up date last week, so there were several days to prepare. 'It's a beast' as my friend put it, and it needed to be bundled on top of my little red Yaris and ratcheted down to the roof.

If you don't know what ratchet straps are there's a photo of them at the top of this email. I know, I know, they are very beautiful and spiritual. Basically ratchet straps are heavy duty straps used to tighten and hold things onto other things. Such as mattresses onto car tops.

The day of operation mattress transport I did a rendition of my usual morning routine; made a cup of coffee, took at hot shower, did some yoga, and meditated with a friend on zoom. Once done and smoothed out with these lovely rituals (more on rituals at another time) I headed down to the basement to resurrect the old tool box of ratchet straps. Earlier in life I ran a large Community Supported Agriculture vegetable farm (I could write volumes on that chapter), and used ratchet straps regularly for all sorts of farm related things.

I hauled the tool box up the basement stairs and plunked it on the kitchen table. It hadn't been opened since packing up and leaving the farm in 2016.

I took out the ratchet straps, there were 5 all told, and discovered that there were covered in rust, and the ratcheting action couldn't really do its thing anymore.

I worked them around, trying to loosen the rust, straightening the straps to see what I had to work with, and while doing this I notice something. I was experiencing a huge wave of fear and anxiety. The more I handled the straps and looked at them, the more my mind raced, my knees felt funny, and a myriad of emotions swirled up.

What was going on? Something big.

I am grateful to the 9 years that I have dedicated to inner work. It only took a second to pinpoint that I was having a huge stress reaction to the ratchet straps (more accurately to something that they represented), and about 3 seconds for presence to start to arise.

I gently instructed myself to notice what was happening. The reaction was big! But, as soon as I started to breath and bring presence to it, it was instantly easier to be with. At that moment the main insight I had was an appreciation for the size and degree of the reaction, and a compassionate understanding that 'ok, wow, this is something really big for you."

There was no judgement in me about it. It is easy to go straight to awful self judgement and self talk when you notice that you are having a reaction, a panic attack, PTSD, whatever it may be in your case.

I could have easily berated myself saying 'good grief Evangeline, you were at the farm years ago and still this is a big deal for you?' or 'Come on, get yourself together, get yourself out to that car and deal with it.' Man up in other words.

Instead I just watched it and let myself appreciate just how traumatized I was about running the farm on my own with two little kids. The ratchet straps encapsulated all the work I did on my own, and the shear bulk of the operation. (Those thoughts could be questioned, but in that moment it was best to hear that traumatized part of me out, let her talk.)

Triggers like this are like bombs, and when they go off, they GO OFF. Inner work is about cultivating a stable peace and groundedness so that when they go off we can abide, we can sit there and be with them without critical commentary and self judgement.

Once I sat with myself for a minute or so, just there, looking down at the straps, what I call the 'adult presence' came online. The adult presence (which is really actually ME) saw that I could drive the mile to the dollar store and buy new racket straps that weren't rusty and probably everything would be fine. I could take it in baby steps.

Looking back now, my best guess is that this trauma is not entirely healed. The trauma reaction may return, but I don't mind. Why would I? It's not me, instead I'm the one who gets to be with it, to be friendly with it, to finally let it be in the presence of someone who is grounded, knows that all is well, and is wiling to be there with it until everything is ok again.

I did end up going to the dollar store. I bought two 10 foot ratchet straps and a six pack of Oreos (a throw back to my main fuel as a farmer. The Oreos helped remind me that, you know what? I really do know how to use ratchet straps, and have probably ratcheted things to things about 2000 times in my life, and every time the straps had held fine. ), and then drove the 2 miles to my friend's house.

Standing in the upstairs bedroom with her I told her I was scared of the precise moment of ratcheting. Not carrying the big ole bed down, not hoisting it onto the roof, not driving it home on top of the car, not unloading it with my son and his friend. None of that. Just the moment of ratcheting. Her response? "I LOVE ratcheting!"

And it was so easy. And I did all the ratcheting. And you know what? I loved it too.

We have the chance to heal big things. As Byron Katie says, 'you are the one you are waiting for' and in this case, that was true. That part of me that was buried deep and so frightened by farming alone all those years ago got to come up and be met by a friendly welcoming adult. That friendly welcoming adult wasn't there when I was younger, I've cultivated her and brought her into my world, and you can do that, too.

I'm sure you know the alternate scenario, one that could play out in a thousand ways. Here's one possibility: I open the tool box, the fear and emotions mount and I don't know how to be with them. They become unbearable and I discharge them onto anything in my vicinity with less power - my cat, my kids, the wall. That's what happens. When we can't be with what is arising, we discharge it onto people, animals, and objects less powerful than us.

Another scenario could involve discharging it back into myself in the form of shame, hateful self talk, and general belittling of myself for not being able to "handle" the ratchet straps.

Presence! It's good stuff! Let's get some more!

Welcoming, grounded adult presence! It's the best thing in town! Let's invite it over for dinner!

I wish you so much love today,

Evangeline

PS - If this touched a chord, reach out. I'd love to hear how it affected you. And if you want support, I'm here for 1:1 coaching. This is the sort of thing we could work on together.

Hi Friends,

Here's a good story about the priceless benefits of cultivating a practice of presence, grounding, and a willingness to be with what is arising before something triggers you. As life would have it, the story is a recent one, and it features yours truly!

Last week some old friends of mine gave me a memory foam queen mattress because they are moving out of town, and, I suppose, because I wanted it. (The gift inspired an entire renovation of my home office, I wound up situating my desk in front of a big sunlit window that has gone unused since I moved in. Now when I work I look out over drifts of snow at a far off hint of horizon through the naked maples standing dense sentry in the front yard. It's incredible how a spot can go unnoticed in a small house for a couple of years, and then oh! a perfect arrangement of furniture changes the whole vibe. Now I never want to leave, whereas for the past two years all I could do was furrow my brow and shake my head in confusion when I looked at this corner of the house. )

The good story I promised, however, lies elsewhere. My friends and I had set up the mattress pick up date last week, so there were several days to prepare. 'It's a beast' as my friend put it, and it needed to be bundled on top of my little red Yaris and ratcheted down to the roof.

If you don't know what ratchet straps are there's a photo of them at the top of this email. I know, I know, they are very beautiful and spiritual. Basically ratchet straps are heavy duty straps used to tighten and hold things onto other things. Such as mattresses onto car tops.

The day of operation mattress transport I did a rendition of my usual morning routine; made a cup of coffee, took at hot shower, did some yoga, and meditated with a friend on zoom. Once done and smoothed out with these lovely rituals (more on rituals at another time) I headed down to the basement to resurrect the old tool box of ratchet straps. Earlier in life I ran a large Community Supported Agriculture vegetable farm (I could write volumes on that chapter), and used ratchet straps regularly for all sorts of farm related things.

I hauled the tool box up the basement stairs and plunked it on the kitchen table. It hadn't been opened since packing up and leaving the farm in 2016.

I took out the ratchet straps, there were 5 all told, and discovered that there were covered in rust, and the ratcheting action couldn't really do its thing anymore.

I worked them around, trying to loosen the rust, straightening the straps to see what I had to work with, and while doing this I notice something. I was experiencing a huge wave of fear and anxiety. The more I handled the straps and looked at them, the more my mind raced, my knees felt funny, and a myriad of emotions swirled up.

What was going on? Something big.

I am grateful to the 9 years that I have dedicated to inner work. It only took a second to pinpoint that I was having a huge stress reaction to the ratchet straps (more accurately to something that they represented), and about 3 seconds for presence to start to arise.

I gently instructed myself to notice what was happening. The reaction was big! But, as soon as I started to breath and bring presence to it, it was instantly easier to be with. At that moment the main insight I had was an appreciation for the size and degree of the reaction, and a compassionate understanding that 'ok, wow, this is something really big for you."

There was no judgement in me about it. It is easy to go straight to awful self judgement and self talk when you notice that you are having a reaction, a panic attack, PTSD, whatever it may be in your case.

I could have easily berated myself saying 'good grief Evangeline, you were at the farm years ago and still this is a big deal for you?' or 'Come on, get yourself together, get yourself out to that car and deal with it.' Man up in other words.

Instead I just watched it and let myself appreciate just how traumatized I was about running the farm on my own with two little kids. The ratchet straps encapsulated all the work I did on my own, and the shear bulk of the operation. (Those thoughts could be questioned, but in that moment it was best to hear that traumatized part of me out, let her talk.)

Triggers like this are like bombs, and when they go off, they GO OFF. Inner work is about cultivating a stable peace and groundedness so that when they go off we can abide, we can sit there and be with them without critical commentary and self judgement.

Once I sat with myself for a minute or so, just there, looking down at the straps, what I call the 'adult presence' came online. The adult presence (which is really actually ME) saw that I could drive the mile to the dollar store and buy new racket straps that weren't rusty and probably everything would be fine. I could take it in baby steps.

Looking back now, my best guess is that this trauma is not entirely healed. The trauma reaction may return, but I don't mind. Why would I? It's not me, instead I'm the one who gets to be with it, to be friendly with it, to finally let it be in the presence of someone who is grounded, knows that all is well, and is wiling to be there with it until everything is ok again.

I did end up going to the dollar store. I bought two 10 foot ratchet straps and a six pack of Oreos (a throw back to my main fuel as a farmer. The Oreos helped remind me that, you know what? I really do know how to use ratchet straps, and have probably ratcheted things to things about 2000 times in my life, and every time the straps had held fine. ), and then drove the 2 miles to my friend's house.

Standing in the upstairs bedroom with her I told her I was scared of the precise moment of ratcheting. Not carrying the big ole bed down, not hoisting it onto the roof, not driving it home on top of the car, not unloading it with my son and his friend. None of that. Just the moment of ratcheting. Her response? "I LOVE ratcheting!"

And it was so easy. And I did all the ratcheting. And you know what? I loved it too.

We have the chance to heal big things. As Byron Katie says, 'you are the one you are waiting for' and in this case, that was true. That part of me that was buried deep and so frightened by farming alone all those years ago got to come up and be met by a friendly welcoming adult. That friendly welcoming adult wasn't there when I was younger, I've cultivated her and brought her into my world, and you can do that, too.

I'm sure you know the alternate scenario, one that could play out in a thousand ways. Here's one possibility: I open the tool box, the fear and emotions mount and I don't know how to be with them. They become unbearable and I discharge them onto anything in my vicinity with less power - my cat, my kids, the wall. That's what happens. When we can't be with what is arising, we discharge it onto people, animals, and objects less powerful than us.

Another scenario could involve discharging it back into myself in the form of shame, hateful self talk, and general belittling of myself for not being able to "handle" the ratchet straps.

Presence! It's good stuff! Let's get some more!

Welcoming, grounded adult presence! It's the best thing in town! Let's invite it over for dinner!

I wish you so much love today,

Evangeline

PS - If this touched a chord, reach out. I'd love to hear how it affected you. And if you want support, I'm here for 1:1 coaching. This is the sort of thing we could work on together.