by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

Religion does not heal. People heal people. They do it through love, generosity and acceptance.  Look. Listen. Heal.  Oh so simple yet so difficult to achieve.

For four days we were with a group out of Canton, Ohio who were conducting a conference called the Warrior’s Journey Home. It started with the interesting collaboration of a church pastored by Dr. John Schlup and a Seneca wise woman, Shianne Eagleheart.  Through Shianne’s sharing, she taught several members of the congregation the spiritual and physical healing of the Healing Circle. My brother, John, has been a living example of the power of Native American spiritual customs and blessings in Hot Springs, South Dakota.

 The purpose of the Healing Circle is to give an individual a safe, nonjudgmental place to be – to listen – to learn and to share his/her trauma experience(s).  Sharing is not an expectation like in many traditional therapy groups.  It is merely an invitation if one is inclined to disclose his/her words. The sharing is only for those in the circle to hear. Stories must never be disclosed beyond the circle unless given permission by the person speaking.

So here is the really cool part of the sharing, there is a hand carved stick that looks like a walking stick.  However, this stick is truly special because the only person who can speak is the person holding the talking stick. There are no time limits a person has to hold the stick and no one can get up and take the stick from that person. When the speaker is through disclosing  his story he will place the stick back in its place or hand it to another person.

Oh, and another powerful trait of a Healing Circle is questions are never asked of the speaker.  Wow, unlike modern therapy, there is no interrogation, advice, or “extra” comments. One may be given a hug or a small a glass of water by a listening member, but that’s it.  By moving through the circle an environment of listening and caring is generated.  Perhaps this is why the Healing Circle is such a special experience for veterans.

To make the experience even more powerful a drum and drummers may be present.  Shianne’s partner, Bob honored the group with his handmade drum.  Healing Circles often begin with native songs and drumming.  The beat of the drum mirrors the rhythm of the heart. This mimics the ancient ceremonies meant to simulate a mother’s heartbeat when the warrior was in her womb. It calms the thoughts and anxieties of the attendees, and gives each person a way to begin and end the Circle experience. Like the mystical poet, Rumi, advises, the circle empowers many thoughts:

“What you seek is seeking you.” 

“Most people guard against going into the fire, and so end up in it.”

 One of my favorite old Chinese proverbs says it all,

“You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.” 

AGAINST ALL ODDS

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

PREFACE

            For too many individuals, there may often be days when one feels he/she cannot continue to withstand the struggle and obstacles of the many agonies of the past. The feelings can be overwhelming and consume our minds and bodies with darkness. It is at this time when a favorite, inspirational quote or a poem of encouragement may help us get through a really bad day.  It is for this reason, I wrote the poem, Against All Odds. If we believe we can, hopefully, we can. And surely as there is day and night, sunshine and rain, joy and sadness, if we believe we can’t, then we won’t.

 

AGAINST ALL ODDS

Janet J. Seahorn

 

Against All Odds I will survive.

Courage and grit will be my guides.

Against All Odds the demons within

May sometimes grow but never win.

 

Against All Odds I will find joy

Hate and chaos I will avoid.

Against All Odds I’ll fight my fears

And not be afraid of cleansing tears.

 

Against All Odds I’ll endure my pain

Knowing that rainbows come after a rain.

Against All Odds I shall be kind

Even if anger sways my mind.

 

Against All Odds I’ll choose to believe

That peace and happiness I can receive.

For this I know without a doubt

Against All Odds I will win out.

 

You not only can, but will do what needs to be done to be healed, to be whole, to be healthy in mind, body, and spirit…Against All Odds.

SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT

Filed Under Aging, Healing, Healing Waters, Hope, Journey, New Year, PTSD, Tears of a Warrior, War | Comments Off on SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT 

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

            As an English major I had to read endless novels, poetry, and short stories from a huge number of authors across all countries and eras. One that was always fascinating for me and others has been the story of the Odyssey by the Greek poet C. P. Cavafy.  Ithaka was the island home of Odysseus. Since this is the beginning of a New Year, thinking about your personal Odyssey may be quite interesting.  What journeys stand out in your life? During your journeys what challenges did you face and meet? And most important, it is not the outcome of the experience that is important but the lesson(s) you learned from them and how those lessons impacted your life, hopefully for the better.

            Like Odysseus, what are you searching for in your journey? Sometimes it is not what we seek out that enriches our life, but what unexpectedly appears during our travels.

Ithaka

C.P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean…

DREAM WITH ME

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

          It has been a very difficult past few months for many individuals and communities inAmerica. Between Hurricane Sandy destroying property and lives in the northeastern part of our country, to the incomprehensible tragedy in Connecticut. Too often we try to put words to these events, hoping to impart some small bit of insight, but they seem too shallow and futile.

At times, when the heart has felt so much suffering and inhumanity, the soul becomes a vacuum of despair. The challenge remains one of deep spiritual courage. The courage to believe in goodness instead of evil. The courage to awake each morning and keep going, knowing the struggle ahead still exits.  And the courage to forgive, to hope, and to still love. Sometimes the best way to convey these staggering emotions is through music. For this reason I thought a song by the young singer, Jackie Evancho, may convey a message of hope for a New Year – far better than simply words.

In my imagination I see a right world
where everybody lives in peace and honesty
I dream of souls always free
like clouds which fly
full of humanity deep inside

In my imagination I see a clear world
the night is less dark over there
I dream of souls always free
like clouds which fly full of humanity

In the imagination there is a hot wind
which blows on cities, as a friend
I dream of souls always free
like clouds which fly
full of humanity deep inside

www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQF-l9NBtX8

In this coming New Year, may the words from Nella Fantasia come true.

So, Dream With Me.

CHASE’S LAST ROLL CALL

Filed Under Aging, Dogs, Family, Healing, PTSD, PTSD treatment, Service Dogs, Tears, Tears of a Warrior, Tribute | Comments Off on CHASE’S LAST ROLL CALL 

 -by Tony & Janet Seahorn

Black Forest Chase:    April 23, 1999 – January 4, 2013

 

Dear Readers, today is an incredible hard day for us. It is a day of celebration, gratitude, patience, letting go, and joy. Today our black lab Chase made his final retrieve. We will miss him dearly. He was our special Wonder Dog and his spirit will remain with us. He loved to fish and bird hunt and guide the raft on its journey downstream. His companionship and love was unconditional and he will never be forgotten. Chase has been our guardian angel calming Tony as he battled with the demons of PTSD. We’ll miss his wonderful presence as we explore new waters and return to familiar haunts. Chase, we know you’ll be happy flushing birds & brookies in the great beyond.

Peace old buddy.

           Many will walk in and out of your life, but only a true friend will leave paw prints on your heart.   ~Anonymous

 

 

My brother, John, sent us this poem earlier this week.  I know it will offer us comfort, but for now we must travel the Road of Tears.

In Memory Of A Beloved Friend

Skidboot:

Born in 1992 and passed on in 2007

 

Touch me with your voice as a puppy young and new,

And let me know my presence is what is pleasing you.

Touch me with your Spirit, for God sent me here to you,

To teach you of that precious bond known only by the choicest few.

Touch me with your hands as I grow tall and strong,

I need you as my mentor throughout my whole life long.

Touch me with your lips, and brush them softly on my brow,

Please kiss away the fears that I am feeling now.

Touch me with your eyes as I become full grown,

To validate unspoken love that we have always known.

Touch me with your heart as our bond keeps growing stronger,

And words need not be used in our language any longer.

Touch me with your breath, so soft and warm upon my face,

As I try to bring you comfort in life’s never ending race.

Touch me with your love when my muzzle turns gray,

I live my life to please you, each and every single day.

Touch me with your scent when age has dimmed my sight,

To reassure me always that you will be my light.

Touch me with your face when your tears are meant for me.

So I may bear your pain and let your heart be free.

Touch me with remembrance when I have traveled on,

And, I will hold your heart in mine forever when I’m gone. 

-Credit  Skidboot-

 

Guest Blog:

 by Jim Fountaine, Vietnam Veteran

A man of eighteen years, barely dry behind the ears hears Uncle Sam’s call and in eight short weeks the change is as radical as a caterpillar into a Butterfly. Only this change has no beauty to it. A young boy is transformed into a soldier, an instrument of war.

            The days of taking his girl to Lover’s Leap, skipping class to go fishing are gone. He is thrust into a world of violence against his fellow man. He begins to see the ravages of war. He learns to kill, not for sport or for food, but for territory, ideals. He does learn these skills with dedication and without question because he is doing what he is ordered to do!

            Then, suddenly, he is thrust in a world of pain, death, blood and pure fear.  He sees things that no amount of education or training has prepared him for. His friends are now few and close, yet distant because getting too close will cause pain when that friend is no longer there. The cold, damp, heat, loneliness become his constant companion. Sometimes he tries to deaden the pain with booze. He fights himself to bury what he sees. He keeps doing his job without emotion because he feels if he feels he’ll go nuts.

            Then suddenly it’s all over and he sheds his uniform and finds himself back on main street U.S.A.  When he sees his old school mates he finds he no longer has anything in common with them. He cannot talk about his experiences because they won’t understand. He finds he has had his youth robbed from him. He no longer trusts those around him with the ease he once did.

            He has wounds you cannot see; not wounds of the body but wounds of the soul, the mind and the spirit, and no one can see them. No one can see the scars. He drifts back into a time when he felt the pain for real. He seeks out answers he cannot find. At times he feels out of control, so tries to find things he believes that will give him control like booze, drugs or he buries himself in work almost to the point of exhaustion.

            He withdraws from relationships for fear of loss. He rejects authority for that authority brought him harm in the past. He feels alone in a vast world that doesn’t seem to care. He hurts, but no one can see the wounds; no one hears his cries for help. He is judged by people by what they see on the surface. They don’t see the Unseen Wounds in him. They don’t hear his silent cries and all he can do is ask, “Why can’t you see what this is doing to me?”

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW

Filed Under Healing, Life, Love, Music, PTSD, Tears, Tears of a Warrior | Comments Off on SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW 

By Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

Dang!

There it is again, that massive lump in my throat – the one that makes it hard to swallow. It came during my morning meditation. I had just changed out the music on my CD player (yep, I said CD player not IPod or I-Pad), to my favorite Christmas venue.

Every day I include a special prayer for our military and their families, past and current, and this is when the song began, just as I was beginning that part of my meditation… the song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. It was the awareness of the words that made me ponder how many of our men and women have served our blessed country and wished each day that they could escape their current reality and go somewhere else.  And these words then produced that enormous throat bump:

                                                Somewhere over the rainbow

                                                Way up high.

                                                There’s a land that I heard of

                                                Once in a lullaby.

 

            A land where the song sings on, Skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.  Then I envisioned what those dreams might be, dreams that are ever so humble, ordinary and serene — a land somewhere in the world and even in our beloved country where peace and goodwill abide; where dreams are not filled with violence and awfulness but acceptance and camaraderie; where possibilities and hope still exist.

            Then came the verse that caused the throat bump to grow like the naughty, green-eyed Grinch.

                                                Someday I’ll wish upon a star

                                                And wake up where the clouds are far behind me.

                                                Where troubles melt like lemon drops…

            So what troubles, dear readers, would you like to melt like lemon drops? Which clouds need to vanish to allow brighter days shine forth? My guess is that there may be more than a few troubles, but the wish may simply be for a kinder, gentler future. Therefore, has always been my wish for each of you guardians of freedom— days of joy, hope, and love. Since there is no such thing as a charmed life, perhaps all that I can truly wish is what Sarah Ban Breathnach mentioned in Simple Abundance, a holiday special package, the Strength-Wisdom-Grace package. Strength to meet your challenges, Wisdom to embrace real life, and the Grace to be grateful not only for what you have, but what you’ve escaped”.

            Perhaps you may never be able to fly beyond the clouds or over the rainbow. Perhaps just being able to view the rainbow in all its glorious hues, makes the clouds a bit lighter. And perhaps, if you can’t fly over that rainbow, perhaps, just perhaps, you can still, like the bluebird, the small sparrow, or the great eagle, simply fly…

TRACES

Filed Under Aging, Fall, Healing, Hope, Life, PTSD, Tears of a Warrior | Comments Off on TRACES 

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

            It’s Fall and the woods are filled with brilliant colors of changing leaves, from yellows the color of pure gold, reds that stir the imagination, and oranges that remind me of a Harvest moon. The flushes of hues aren’t the only splendor of Fall; the pungent odors alert our senses that summer is over and winter is ready too soon to cover the ground. It is almost as if the forests entire existence waits for this one time of year to celebrate all that has come before. With all of these physical signs, I got to thinking of the traces we leave behind as we journey through our days. What are the colors of our fallen leaves?

            If we are able to overcome all of life’s hardships; if we are able to embrace both the joys and sorrows, perhaps we will leave a special trace of humanity in the world. If we are able to feel a deep sense of gratitude for our being; if we are able to feel a sense of grace even while enduring horrible tragedies; and if, through all the anguishes, our hearts are not given to bitterness but can still remain open to humankind, perhaps we will leave traces of hope and courage.

            Hiking the high mountain trails, the paths are covered with fallen leaves. It is as if we are truly on the “yellow brick road”, only this road doesn’t lead to a wondrous wizard.  This road really leads back to us, for we are the real wizards of our life. There are no magic spells we possess to bring us more happiness and fewer challenges. No magic wand changes our predicaments or instantly showers us with extra money. You see the true magic is always how we choose to view each moment we live and what we give to others. The magic is not how much material STUFF we have, but how much of ourselves we share with others.

            As warriors and families caring for wounded bodies and spirits our lives continually leave marvelous traces for others to view and possibly follow. We bequeath a conviction that determination to move forward and faith to move beyond the hopelessness is achievable. Every time one of our vivid leaves tumbles to the ground, we shower those around us with traces of optimism. Therefore, as we move through our time on earth, we should think about the traces we are leaving behind for others to glimpse and ask, “Are these the traces we want to leave”? Hopefully, our answer is, “Yes”. And maybe we are able to do so because we have been fortunate to follow the traces those before us have left for us to further pursue.

STRENGTH OF SPOUSES

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

In the past few years, I’ve written countless blogs on the strength and endurance of our veterans. However, the other side of that coin is the strength and endurance of their spouses. Several days ago we received an e-mail from a spouse who had heard about us and our book through an article that appeared as a Wyoming magazine article. She wrote about the challenges of married life with her veteran husband. A situation that became even more desperate after he suffered a traumatic brain injury (not from combat) that she wrote, “took him totally out of commission”. The e-mail went on to describe how other people did not see the depth of his many wounds, but she was faced with them daily enduring aggressive behaviors and foul language.

The injury occurred in 1998, but it was not until 2001 that the situation became too difficult to bear. I was his sole caregiver & therapist.  When things got bad, I was the human standing in front of him as his anger came out. 

… There were many days of not sleeping and warding off his craziness.  In the first two years after his head injury, we almost lost the house twice.  We literally lived in a wooden tent – the house was emptied out of furniture and appliances as the sheriff’s department kept impounding our possessions because we couldn’t pay our bills – possessions which ended up on the court house steps selling for $1.  My daughter and I sought safe shelter six times in those two years to get away from him and his outbursts – the first time was on her 10th birthday.

            One may think, wow, this sounds pretty darn extreme, yet, due to the lack of available resources in her area, obtaining services was nearly impossible. Her state of affairs is not unlike many of our returning military people and their families. Many spouses are drained of energy trying to keep their loved one out of jails and mental health institutions. What makes her story even more thought-provoking is her educational credentials, during all the turmoil she went back to school and obtained a Master’s degree in mental health. Yet, she has had to fight her own demons brought on by the many years of being exposed to an unpredictable and toxic home environment.

            With her educational background she states, I have dissected trauma and I understand the roots of it more than most people.

            And perhaps, her most profound statement,

Unfortunately, the war doesn’t stop when they come home.  They never leave the ambush; it can haunt them for the rest of their lives.  They are eventually removed from the war situation and are not confronted with that type of environment every day (other than their memories).  Their spouses and children aren’t so lucky.  They too have to live with the aftermath of war.

            Thank you, Carol, for your introspective thoughts, your daily courage, and your persistence to keep going even when it would be easier to give up. You are certainly one of our country’s many amazing military spouse.

RENEWAL

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

            The other day, while on my morning walk, I noticed a band of swimmers in the middle of the lake. Interestingly, I hadn’t been aware of this group before now. Yet, as they swam I saw that each swimmer had attached to their body a florescent orange, buoy-like inflatable that followed their every movement. The more I reflected on this object, the more I came to see that the balloon was both a visual to alert boaters who might be in the area as well as a safety device that would give the person something to keep them afloat if they should incur some other problem while in the water.

            So what in the heck does this scenario have to do with Renewal? First, as we move forward in life it is much safer to do it with others to support our journey. Secondly, there most definitely will be times when we get some pretty severe “cramps” or “tremors” which are more like tsunamis of the body, soul, and spirit. There may be times in our life when the darkness seems so black that it is difficult to believe that any light really exists. The darkness becomes a too familiar pattern. Like an old pair of shoes or worn t-shirts, easy to slip into – often beyond practical wear.         

            When we become aware that such patterns are not serving our needs correctly, it is hard to release these old familiar practices. They may have served our past necessities, but now it is time to move forward. Start small by asking what Renews us each day. Maybe it is simply a brilliant sunrise, a child’s smile, a puppy’s clumsiness, or a strong cup of coffee. The point is this, as human beings we were never meant to stay stagnant. The old saying, if something isn’t growing in some way, it is probably dead – or close to it, therefore being in the land of inaction is not the vacation spot we want to visit too often. As long as we are breathing, we can be in the process of renewal. It is a choice. Not always an easy choice, but nevertheless, a choice. It requires consciously choosing to release those old shoes and worn t-shirts; releasing former negative actions or thought patterns that are devastating our opportunities for peace of mind, heart, body, and spirit.

            The question is this — are we ready to do some shopping? Let’s picture ourselves in new apparel. Let’s trust that we are ready and worthy of our new garb. Renewal is a way to bless ourselves in order to be a blessing to others.

 Oh, and don’t forget to bring along your florescent orange buoy.

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