A Flight of Whimsy

28 04 2011

I knew I’d regret summoning that second butterfly to my toes. I’ve been overcome by the vagaries of livin’ lepidopteran.

Read the rest of this entry »



21 04 2011

alone on this peak

new home snug against heart on

rosary of tears


do past selves peer up

lost to envy sprawled below?

I would, were I them

Where is home?

21 04 2011

I wrote this in front of my fireplace in Colorado; I’m posting it from my couch in Seattle. It’s a delicious tension.

The last time I was here I felt my heart turn over one frigid December morning. Blurry-eyed and groaning from sleep disturbed, I thought to myself

I am ready to go home

I bolted upright, enough adrenaline surging through my veins to do the work of five cups of coffee.

Home? What do I mean, HOME? I am home!

Read the rest of this entry »

My Hermitage

18 04 2011

They were nothing more than people, by themselves. Even paired, any pairing, they would have been nothing more than people by themselves. But all together, they have become the heart and muscles and mind of something perilous and new, something strange and growing and great.

Together, all together, they are the instruments of change.

The Bone People, Keri Hulme

I know I’ve stumbled across something great when the prologue leaves me thinking, “This book will tear my soul to shreds.”

Book Art

9 04 2011

Just got my confirmation email saying this little slice of wonderful is in the mail on its way to me. If this is what self-care looks like, I might just hop on this bandwagon more often!



Love & Snugglies


5 04 2011

Some people truly understand freedom in Christ, joy, and life in ways that absolutely blow my mind.

I consider it one of my highest honors to have known and been mentored by both of these incredible men, and today I want to share a little of that honor with the world.

Brad East

Richard Beck

love and snugglies

Blogging through writer’s block, rd. II

4 04 2011

I have no desire to craft anything of my own, yet I’m hoping the act of typing will provide me with the necessary momentum to finish off this paper. Without further ado, an excerpt from IS PSYCHOANALYSIS A NARCISSISTIC ENTERPRISE?

The vulnerability…is shame vulnerability, the failure of analysis to measure up to its grandiose self-image. Thus, we are brought back once again to the recurrent link between shame and narcissism.

I am uncomfortable with attributing narcissism to the psychoanalytic situation, method, or movement because, in my view, narcissism can rightly be ascribed only to persons…I think it more correct to say that the analytic method, with its idealization of the transference and its emphasis on transference analysis, permits the analyst to freely indulge his narcissism. Although the patient may be talking about some interaction in his life outside the analysis, the analyst listens to find himself in the material (emphasis his). Were he not engaged in the narcissistically gratifying activity of examining the material for references to himself, he might not be able to listen to patients hour after hour, day after day, with the same quality of attention without drifting into escapist reveries of various kinds.

I view the situation as follows: the analyst is gazing into the reflecting pool of the patient’s material to find himself. Although ostensibly he is looking to find himself as a transference object, I believe that on a deeper, more unconscious level he often looks in the hope of finding his “true self”..’in the last analysis the patient is searching for and reacts to the kind of person that the analyst really is in the depths of his personality.’ I believe that the analyst, like his patient, may be searching for the kind of person he (the analyst) really is which means that often there may be this hidden agenda operating behind the task of analyzing the patient. Looking at it this way, analysis (and much of analytic psychotherapy) could be described as an elaborate, unacknowledged game of “hide and seek,” in which the analyst hides and both parties then seek to find him.

Francis J. Broucek, Shame and the Self

Here’s to the game.

Love and snugglies!