Posts Tagged ‘happy memories’

It’s Monday morning again :) And it’s raining!

I just love winter. The cold, the wind, and especially the rain. The harder the rain falls the bigger my smile grows.

A while back, when I was going through trauma counselling, I was asked to think of a safe place – a place that gives me a feeling of pleasure or safety. I needed a memory that would help me retrieve a positive emotion that I could bring up and use to replace a feeling of distress or disturbance.

Sitting in a comfortable chair with my eyes closed, I thought back over the years to the many places I’ve been, things I’ve seen and done: sunsets, sunrises, forests, bushwalks, food… nothing seemed to ‘click’. I was about to give up when a picture began to form in my mind. I could feel the tugging of a smile as pleasure welled up inside me. By the time my mental picture was complete, I was grinning. I’d found my ‘safe place’. I opened my eyes and felt like laughing. Who would believe me? Let me describe my safe place…

The rain is bucketing down!  I am standing out on my patio with a cup of coffee. The rain is so heavy I can hardly see the building 20 metres away. The traffic coming down the highway has slowed to a crawl, their headlights weak and distorted. Thunder rumbles overhead. A gust of wind drives the rain towards me and I step backwards. This is my favourite place, favourite season, favourite memory. My ‘safe place’.

Do you have a ‘safe place’? I’d love to hear from you.

Have a great week :)


(c) DJ Stutley 2012

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Today my red lid dish was given back, and for the first time I felt the uncomfortable prick of tears of sadness about my daughter moving away.

We have this glass dish that passed from her to me and back again for years. Whoever had the dish, had to fill it with something and give it back. Sometimes it would contain a few pieces of chocolate cake or something like that. Other times it was filled with dinner for my daughter who occasionally worked late. She would call from work and ask if someone could pick her up from the train and take her home – then I would divide our meal into three and give her the red lid dish. She would return it with something she’d made on the weekend.

She’s moved away and I’ve been left with the dish and many happy memories. That’s what ‘family’ is all about…

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