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Posts Tagged ‘Accidents’

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I can choose either to be a victim of the world or an adventurer in search of treasures. It’s all a question of how I view my life. – Paul Coelho.

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There have been times aplenty when I’ve wondered where time flies but I never thought I’d find out first hand.
Being a Science Fiction fan I’d always quite fancied the idea of “The Langoliers” by Stephen King – furry balls of steel teeth gobbling time as it passed away. Definitely worth watching, if you can find it. Not however what happened.

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Alas, I cannot say that I have such an imaginative reason for not writing. In fact, even this short effort is telling me my time is running out.I am working on something, it simply isnt finished.  Soon but not soon enough!
From a flare up of an old  complaint I languished in a state akin to despair…until I decided to take a photo of a newly flowering plant.  It’s hard to pass up on those photos. I couldn’t  stand, or rather squish down for the shot, so I sat in the old reliable plastic chair. Mistake! Oh what a mistake!
One moment seated on the chair, the next flying through the air with the greatest of ease. No mean feat, I assure you.

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Alas and alack I’m aching like a forlorn pretzel. Better yet, a crumbled pretzel. Even sitting is no fun – and neither us lying down by the way. All typos due to the phone and screwy eyesight from meds!
I’ll be back shortly, more or less in one piece. (One piece just many bruises). Believe me, there are times I wish for …..a fairy or three to help me. Although they have nade my flowers grow beautifully.
Til later mes amis. No more flying for me!

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Love me, love my fairies helping in my garden.

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Blessings,  Susan 💖
(C) Susan Jamieson,  2014

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Mousehunt

image from mybirdie.ca –

Dearest, Are you there?

I heard a mouse squeak under the stairs

Not to worry, Honey

That’s just the window sticking in its track

~

Dearest, Are you there?

There’s something squealing now over there

It’s alright, Honey

The branches scraping on the Jacaranda

Just touching the door on the verandah

~

Sweetheart, Are you there?

I’m sure I heard some screaming down there

Dearest, It’s alright

There’s really nothing to worry about

~

Sweetheart, Please tell me what’s going on

I’m sure there is something there

Now I can hear a sobbing in the air

Yes Darling, I’m sure you’re right

I hit my finger in the dark –

As I chased that mouse under the stairs

Then I chased it through the squealing door –

Which hit my dodgy knee when I tripped on the floor

But I didn’t start to sob –

Until I caught my finger in the closing door

Mousehunt

image from soltherapy.wordpress.com –

Which I couldn’t see –

Because the bulb had blown

In the torch I was holding as it fell and broke

As I was trying to catch that danged squealing door

To stop it from closing

~

Dearest, Are you saying the mouse got away?

It’s always best to look on the brighter side of life.  Poem inspired by my wonderful Mum. Final image inspired from a riotous film called….”Mousehunt”.

Find a chuckle in your day, keep the blues away.

Happy weekend.

Ciao, Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2013

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image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”   Roald Dahl

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The years when I was able to follow where I was ‘led’ were simply marvelous. I felt as though the whole world was there for me to explore and learn. There was nothing which enthralled me more than to find another book, another person to talk to, another course to do, all to expand the knowledge I longed for.

I was fortunate; I met some truly wonderful and generous people who taught me so much.  Some of the lessons I learned were not so good, but obviously I needed them.  One of the circles I regularly attended brought together people with a wide range of talents. Some were fledglings, like me, and others were seasoned  psychics and mediums. The people I was drawn towards were the ones who were quiet yet knowledgeable, as opposed to those who pushed themselves to the fore, to show how “good they were”.

Pendulums and dowsing, psychometry, tarot, were all taken as learning experiences. Meditation became a foundation practice and eased a great deal of the pain I had after the car accident. There were some wonderful experiences, some I cannot explain rationally and the feelings…. it felt as if my entire body was a receptor for energies I had only dreamed of being able to sense.

The difficulty I had with my back caused more problems and eventually I had to stop attending the circle I really enjoyed. My Reiki had ‘blossomed’ and I had many favourable comments from people who came to me for healing. My nightly self-healing helped me to keep going, but day by day there seemed to be an eroding of comfort and ability to do the everyday things.

By this time I had met a psychic who was striking out on her own. She was thrilled to find someone who understood what she was doing and also had the admin talents she lacked. It seemed a perfect match.  At the time I was learning about Past Life Regression and wondered if our ‘connection’ was due to some past life we had shared.  It’s possible and it could account for what happened.

One thing which disturbed me, and has since then, is the number of mediums who ‘advertise’ themselves as “world-famous” or “clients from around the world”, and of course, “100% accurate.” So much of what I learned has shown me that the interpretation of messages from the other side can be misunderstood by the medium, often by the client because of the heightened emotion and inability to remember facts at the time. I also hasten to add that there are many real and honest mediums and psychics out there, some I know and would recommend in a heartbeat.  However, that’s an aside at present.

Things went swimmingly for a while. I set her up with media interviews, arranged her tours and appointments and held her hand when she met the journalists. I also went with her when a family asked her to help them to locate their missing husband/son.  He drove a truck, interstate and had gone missing from the vehicle on his way back to Queensland. The truck was found in New South Wales with its load intact but he had vanished.  I was picking up so many things by this time that I was enthusiastic about going with her to “look for some answers” for this family.

They drove us out to Moree, stopping at various places along the route he would have taken to pick up whatever we could. By the time we reached Moree I realised that Anya (not her real name), was asking me what I was picking up before she spoke to the family and then, almost word for word telling them what I had just talked to her about.  I was feeling suspicious but not ready to give up on her yet. The next day we were going up in a small plane and flying over the Warrumbungle range, since the feeling was he had been dumped somewhere in the area.

I had an amazing time! I loved the small Cessna and flying over the Warrumbungle range was thrilling. Each time the plane hit an air pocket and dropped, Anya squealed and I laughed. It was unfortunate but I found the ride so much more than I had ever expected that it was too hard not to laugh with joy, even though we were there for a serious reason. I was sitting with “Sarah”, the man’s sister and she appreciated the comedy as we tried to chat over the noise of the engine. On a serious note, there were things I picked up as we flew low over the range, but in areas only a local or a mountain goat could easily get to. Impenetrable is the word for the area.

image from http://www.golden-highway.com.au Part of the Warrumbungle range

As far as the family were concerned it must have been a total wash out since we couldn’t really point to a definitive spot and say “He’s there!” They continued to look but told me they were never able to get the closure they wanted.

After that she became obsessed with a missing boy who was in all the papers. I told her I believed he had been picked up by someone the police hadn’t yet spoken with and that he was already dead. She focused on finding his remains. Call me insane, but I went along with her when she wanted to search an area of scrub and bush where she felt he might be found. It was between Maleny and Eumundi and a well-known Lyme tick area, although I didn’t know it then. It appears my Lyme disease may have begun at this point.  My health became worse. I had another accident on the way home from her place in Eumundi and even though I wasn’t driving it exacerbated my back problems.

Shortly after this she met someone, gave me goosebumps but she was in love. He didn’t want me to work with her and life became difficult. Suffice it to say that at the end of another eighteen months she parted company with her love, it cost her dearly and I hadn’t been paid for twelve months. She has now resurfaced as a “World famous animal communicator” and despite trying to simply “say hello” has so far refused to see or speak to me. So sad! A lesson learned or so I thought!

Another lady, a psychic medium, with a mean temper, although I didn’t know it at the time, had been chasing me to work with her… doing the same thing. From everything she said about Anya, it appeared she knew what she had been doing and assured me she was ethical. This was to be the next chapter of my life.

Next week: The Universe makes me sit up and take heed of the message.

Blessing Susan xx

If you’ve missed the earlier chapters of the story you can find them here, here and here.

“Don’t beat yourself up for not knowing the answers. You don’t always have to know who you are. You don’t have to have the big picture, or know where you’re heading. Sometimes, it’s enough just to know what you’re going to do next.”   Sophie Kinsell

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image from agapegeek.com  St. Michael, the Protector.

“The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.”  ~Jean Paul Richter

For a long time now I’ve followed a morning and nightly ritual of ‘white lighting’ my family. For those who are not familiar with this, it is not imagining them struck by lightning, although there are times when I’ve been tempted.  It is a simple practice of visualising white light surrounding each person in my family. This white light is from the Universe, a heavenly source or representative for good,  whichever you are most comfortable with.  This acts as a protection ‘bubble’  around them wherever they go throughout the day. It also covers their cars when I know they are going out. (I do the same for me too!)

On this particular day, my daughter was going to Uni and then coming home. I had a strange feeling that morning as I woke up, she was definitely on my mind. Nothing dramatic, just an uncomfortable feeling the closer it came time for her to leave. I followed my usual white light routine and went about my daily activities.

As the day wore on the feeling of discomfort grew, my intuition was working overtime so much so that I went through my white light routine several times and for some reason I felt compelled to really “reinforce” her car. I was counting down the minutes until she was due to come home. When I knew she would be about fifteen minutes away I started to become fairly agitated. I was going to call her but hesitated  because I felt she would be driving home. At the same time I couldn’t shake the feeling that ‘something’ was imminent.

When the phone rang and I saw it was her number my immediate thought was that she had some car trouble and that this was the cause of the odd feelings I’d had all day. It had occurred previously and left her stranded in the middle of the night so at first, I put it down to that, yet it still didn’t feel right.

Then I heard an unfamiliar voice,  which said, “You don’t know me, but I’m Fred Smith, a lecturer at the University. You need to prepare yourself for some very bad news. I have to tell you that your daughter has been involved in an extremely serious accident. Can you come immediately?”

This was ‘IT’, I simply knew it, intuitively knew this was what had been going to happen all day. After getting the location of the accident from him I grabbed my bag and keys and flew out the door. She was near the railway line about fifteen minutes from home. I don’t have a very clear recollection of that drive, although I do recall that I made the trip in five minutes which meant I had to have broken every speed limit and either went through a number of red lights or had an angel change each one for me. It’s possible it was a combination of both, but I wasn’t going to be delayed. There was something in that man’s voice which said “HURRY!”

As I arrived at the scene I saw one car slewed around into a street on the right, nose pointing up the hill and my daughter’s car was facing me which would have been her line of travel to reach home. I knew it was her car by the colour (purple) and general outline, but there were so many people, para medics and fire and rescue people, plus their vehicles surrounding her it was hard to be sure. I was certain.

I parked on the footpath, (not allowed) and as I strode (stalked perhaps) along towards her car I saw a group of four Asians sitting next to a garden fence. I briefly stopped to ask them if they had been in the accident and they answered affirmatively, in perfectly good English. None seemed hurt, just crestfallen. Two boys and two girls. At that moment they were relatively insignificant until I found out how my daughter was.

However, I had been spied by a diminutive and rather rotund female paramedic who made a beeline towards me. She held her arms out and officiously asked me who I was. (I know the tone of an officious question!) On identifying myself as the drivers mother she peremptorily told me I couldn’t go to her, nor approach the car. I’m sure at that point that if I could produce steam from my ears it would have been blowing a siren call.

My daughter could see me and seeing me prevented from approaching became agitated and tearful. I can still barely believe she had been composed until then, probably the psychology she was studying and delayed shock. I was becoming more than a little annoyed, angry even. From a very young age I taught my children that if they could look me in the eyes and I told then they would be okay they had nothing to worry about. Psych 101 and it worked. So being restrained from approaching convinced her she was seriously hurt.

To be honest, I truly thought she might be but my intuition told me she was okay. The other vehicle had been speeding towards her on the way to Uni, and going too fast had failed to take the corner. Such was the force of the head on collision as they tried to turn that their car whipped around and the tail slammed into her driver’s door. The doors were wedged shut and her foot was trapped under the accelerator.  The engine had been shoved backwards into the cabin. Her seat belt jammed and she couldn’t reach her bag or phone, hence the call from the strange man.

As the situation became more heated, with various threats from both sides, and despite her ‘authority’ she was in distinct danger of being trounced for being in my way. Fortunately for her, a giant of a man from the fire and rescue vehicle saw what was happening and sauntered over to ‘assist’. I’m not that tall, nor am I that small; 5’7″ is reasonable for a woman, but he was huge in all his gear. My rotund nemesis beat a retreat back to my daughters car, I took a deep breath and explained what the dolt was preventing me from doing.

You see all I need to do was get to her passenger side (where there were no rescue people) and talk to her. Promising to be good, I was escorted over to the car and spoke to my daughter. As suspected she was convinced she must be seriously hurt, she had been trapped now for two hours and not letting me near her had increased her belief that death might be imminent. Calmed down, I explained I had to move back so the rescue people could get the jaws of life to open her car up and get her free.  My stalwart fire and rescue guy gave me a nice cool bottle of water. I think he hoped it might cool me down.

Ambulances came and ferried the four youths to the hospital who had all suddenly developed various ‘injuries’ and lost the use of the English language. My daughter was finally freed and I met her at the hospital. Heaven knows what that imbecile from the para medics told them but they eyed me askance from the moment I waked in.  My daughter was kept waiting for hours whilst they treated the other youths, without even having her blood pressure taken. To say I was peeved was an understatement.

By the time a nurse arrived to talk to her the other four had already left with… no discernible injuries, but they had needed  to wait for… you  guessed it, an interpreter.

Numerous scans, tests, and so forth later they rather astoundingly told me that she seemed to be totally fine, only virulent bruising across her chest and abdomen and hip from the seat belt! Incredible and totally wonderful. I know that her guardian angel were watching out for her that day and that was the only reason she was still here with me. She was very stiff and sore but we were both relieved when, with painkillers in hand, we carefully made our way to the car and I took her sedately home.

POSTSCRIPT

Several days later, whilst my daughter was resting in bed the doorbell rang. It was the insurance assessor. After bringing him inside and sitting him down he proceeded to offer his condolences. Nonplussed I asked him why. Of course it was for the tragic loss of my daughter. He had just come from the car yard where the car had been towed and seeing the vehicle was sure she had been killed in the accident. He was very abashed on hearing she was resting comfortably in her room. I’m sure it was the first condolence call he had made that turned out to be unnecessary.

My daughter wouldn’t or couldn’t believe how serious the accident had been. Eventually I relented and took her to see the car. As I helped her to approach the car, since she was very stiff by then, she suddenly froze and the blood drained from her face.  In front of her was the mangled remnant of her beloved little car. Apart from the initial damage it had been opened like a can by a can opener and looked awful. The truth finally hit home and we had to almost carry her back to my car to come home.

So, belief in Angels, the greatness of the Universe, good luck or whatever appeals to you, I know that without some assistance that day I would have lost my daughter. If not, she would have been seriously injured. There was no reason for me to feel so uncomfortable that day. It was a journey she regularly made, yet on this day it was different.  Nothing will ever convince me we didn’t have a helping hand or three. My intuition didn’t let me down.

image from http://www.impactlab.net My daughter was wrapped in the arms of an angel. I’m good with that.

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.”  ~George Elliot

So tell me, what do you think?

A very happy and grateful Momma.

Ciao, Susan x

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image from pattykikos.com

Sometimes things happen when we least expect it and in ways we could not have dreamed. This was one of those times. Intuition has guided me many times and this was one of those times.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon in the early summer, just before  school was due to finish for the year I was at home doing the usual things getting ready for the week ahead.  My son had walked to the local coffee shop to meet a friend…. for an iced coffee. They made really delicious iced coffees, perfect for a hot day.

About an hour or so after he had left there was an ear splitting screech of tires followed by a solid thump and then silence. An accident.  Something tugged at me from the moment the noise began that my son was ‘in trouble’. I knew he wasn’t hurt, so I knew he could not have been involved in the accident itself. Yet I also knew, beyond reason that the accident was the reason he was ‘in trouble’. My intuition was working overtime and screaming at me to get around there.

I grabbed my bag and keys and jumped into the car and drove around to the coffee shop. Without consciously thinking about it I had driven in the direction which would bring me to the opposite side of the road to the shopping centre which was not the usual way I would have gone.

As I drove up I could see a car, the passenger side on the road and the drivers side stopped against a small wall at an angle to the road. There were dozens of people standing in a semi circle back from the car.  I could see two heads above the  car, furthest away from where I parked. Walking quickly forward I recognised my son and his friend (D) standing in front of it, on the pathway, almost as though they were protecting it or the person inside.

About fifteen feet away from them was the biggest mountain of a man I had ever seen. He must have been seven feet tall and almost as wide. His arms were as big as small tree trunks and he was enraged.  Blood suffused his face and his muscles were knotted in cords in his arms and neck. In his hands was a large tree branch which had been broken off a small tree in the garden.  He was screaming at the boys to get out of the way or he would take their heads off too. He wanted the boy in the car (J) who was semi conscious and looked terrified.

I had never felt so proud of my son and his friend, who were facing down an enraged giant, protecting their friend and in real danger of being seriously hurt. The crowd, were silent and making no move to say or do anything to help. It took moments to assess the situation, and what could happen if it was not defused, and quickly. I was furious that the men  in the crowd would allow two teenage boys to stand in front of this enraged idiot and do nothing to help.

image from blogs.fanbox.com YES! He really was this big!

I marched (literally) between my son and this giant and stood there looking up at him. I could almost feel myself growing taller by the second as my blood pounded in my head.  I stared him in the eye and said. “Put that branch down, NOW”, in a strong but quiet tone.

For a moment he looked at me without an ounce of understanding in his eyes. Then he began shouting. “He could have killed a child”, “He could have hit another car”, “He had no business driving”, “If a child had been in the garden they could have been killed or hurt”. Each shout seemed louder than the one before, reverberating like thunder in the garden. Silence reigned elsewhere.

I said. “Put that branch down NOW, you are not going to hit anyone”.

He shouted,”If they don’t F****king move out of the way I’ll take their F***king heads off too, that goes for you too!”

My son tried to get me to move out of the way but that wasn’t going to happen. This man had lost any vestige of rationality and was not going to stand down for two teenage boys and the young fellow in the car was definitely going to be hurt if things did not change, and soon.

I took a step towards this giant, raised my finger and pointed it at him. Surprised he took a step back and looked a little unsure of himself. I said,”Put that damned branch down IMMEDIATELY, or you’ll be the one having his head taken off with it!”  Admittedly this was delivered with quite a bit more force.

There was silence for a minute and no-one moved. Again I raised my finger and he stepped back once more. “Drop it NOW, I said, RIGHT NOW!” The last word raised in a commanding tone.

With mumbling and muttering he dropped the branch, still shouting that children could have been hurt.

The only person hurt at this point was the young driver who was my son’s friend. There were no children in the street at all, none in the garden and the giant did not live there. Seeing him move off the two teenage guardians moved round to the side of the car to help their friend (J). He was awake and had been sitting petrified inside the car in the event this gargantuan man had taken out his friends and whoever was standing in front of him. He had no idea at that time that it was his friends mother.

The tragedy had occurred simply because J’s mother had asked him to go to the local shop for some milk. Instead of tying his joggers he had simply opened the laces and slipped them on. As he left the car park his foot slipped in his shoe and the laces wrapped around the accelerator and brake pedal. He could neither stop from accelerating nor brake. Fighting the car he swerved across the road and up onto the footpath making a semi circle on the front of the garden and clipping the small tree breaking off the branch our giant wanted to use. Hitting the tree caused him to hit his head on the side window and knock himself senseless for a few minutes.  His mothers new car was quite a mess.

The crowd was still there as the police drove up. Statements were taken from everyone, including many of the onlookers. I knew many of them. So did my son. All our children attended the same school and yet no-one was willing to talk to this half crazed lunatic once he picked up a branch. I was ashamed for them, embarrassed that they did not have the moral fortitude to defend two young boys, even if they were tall teenagers.

I understand that the situation could easily have ended differently. There was no telling how he would react to my commands, although I’m told I was a fearsome sight standing there.  Not bad for someone only five foot seven.

There is no logical explanation for the feeling I had which prompted me to go to the shop. Nothing happened to tell me my son would be defending his friend that day. What might have happened if I hadn’t heeded my gut instinct, my intuition?  It  has never led me astray, not once in many years. I think I will continue to listen to whatever guides me in these times. Intuition, angels, spiritual protection, whatever it is, it is powerful and wondrous. I am grateful it comes to me when needed.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. “    – Hamlet (1.5.166-7), Hamlet to Horatio

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“True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.”   Arthur Ashe

After talking about sub personalities I was wondering if there was a better, more “close to home” example I could use to show how these sub personalities can be so helpful in our daily lives, and yes, they can be unhelpful also. Yesterday, that is precisely what happened.

I had been through an agonising night with my Lyme Disease, I thought, and it felt as though my right hip was being slowly pulled apart by red hot irons. Not terribly pleasant and definitely the stuff to keep you awake! I was most assuredly ‘The Victim’ of the tick/parasite, ‘The Predator’, and also ‘The Invalid’, as I achingly slowly trekked to the bathroom and back throughout the long night. I was finally trying to rest in bed. The bug ‘die off’ is painful and at times feels as though it is a never ending cycle. It isn’t, but ‘The Inner Child’ feels quite vulnerable.

Whilst no-one wants to be in an accident (‘Victim’), or to be in the position of seeing one (‘Witness’), sometimes you are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time or the right place at the right time. It depends on your perspective.

My husband, Ray (‘The Carer’), had brought a nice cup of Earl Grey tea and sat down for a reassuring chat. A nice comforting chat is always good for the soul and anything else which ails you.  Suddenly we heard that awful sound everyone automatically recognises, the dreadful squeal of brakes followed immediately by the heart stopping thud of two cars colliding.  This, right outside our house, close to the bedroom window.

We exchanged quick looks as he stood up to find out if he could see the accident, but unfortunately the hedge around the property completely blocked the scene. He dashed off to check things out. ‘The Protector’ had come out in both of us. Whilst he made a quick exit through the front door I shuffled up to the wardrobe and dragged out my dressing gown. Dressed in PJ’s, slippers and dressing gown I too headed out.

image from http://www.ebay.co.uk                    Comfy and cosy but not high fashion!

About now, everyone should realise the possible folly of this. Sans make up, something I NEVER do, and having a bad herx reaction I wasn’t fit to look after myself far less anyone else! None the less, “the calling” was there so I painfully shuffled past onlookers and seeing a couple of people around the car on the far side of the road, I went to the lady sitting alone inside the car closest to me. I don’t think I could have crossed the road but if the need had been there, I don’t doubt I would have done it!

“The Calling” is an inner pull which never goes and compels you to action; someone may have been hurt and I might be needed. I ‘knew’ Ray would be channeling ‘The Commander’, directing the rushing traffic coming over the crest of the hill. Despite a sign clearly indicating a cross road just before the crest, (why do Councils allow cross roads to be placed in such idiotic places?) cars were still coming over the hill at a speed dangerous to anyone standing there, far less an accident scene! By the way, that was ‘The Inner Critic’ passing comment on Councils.

There he stood, powerful and commanding. I could see the energy flowing from his hands as ‘The Commander’ waved in an imperious manner for the cars to slow down and stop – and they did! They stopped, then slowly made their way past the two cars which were pulled over onto the side of the road. A potential second accident was avoided.

image from dir.coolclips.com

Shuffling along I made my way to the nearest car and checked out the situation, ‘The Analyst’ realised that no-one was hurt, no blood, no broken bones. The driver, shaken and in shock, I moved between both ‘The Protector’ and ‘The Carer’ so that the driver I’ll call “Emma” could finally reach a state of relative calm and phone her son. Talking calmly is a great help in these cases. Her trembling stopped and she was able to speak to the Paramedics when they arrived.

The Paramedics became ‘The Professional Carers’ and also ‘Traffic Controllers’ as they positioned their ambulance van with lights flashing where approaching traffic could see and relieved Ray of that task.  Emma’s son arrived and  I too was relieved of my roles.

Ray gathered me up and started to half carry me back home. Away from the adrenal rush, the pain, sickness and discomfort came flooding back. I was more concerned with the Paramedics seeing me as the patient if my legs folded under me instead of the accident ‘Victims’, so I breathed a painful but relieved sigh when I reached my comfortable bed! Ray, ‘The Protector’ and ‘The Carer’ was once again taking care of Susan ‘The Invalid’.

image from blog.sequoiaseniorsolutions.com

Everyday occurrences can see the same exchange of sub personalities appear as they did when we attended this accident. If you pay attention you may also see sub personalities around you such as ‘The Office Bully’. ‘The Inner Child’, ‘The Organiser’,’The Pusher’, ‘The Pleaser’ and so on.

Integrating all these sub personalities is the work of Hal and Sidra Stone in Voice Dialogue and, in my opinion, is powerful.

If you are interested, read the following:

Which ‘me’ are you talking to?

A Day in the lives of…What’s Your Name?

A Day in the lives of…What’s your Name, Sir?

“The intellectual is different from the ordinary man, but only in certain sections of his personality, and even then not all the time.”     George Orwell

There are more examples to be found in the film genre – for another time.

Happy reading,

Bless, Susan  xx

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