Forum Replies Created
-
AuthorPosts
-
anita
ParticipantOnce again, James123: I am in awe at a flawless answer. Thank you!
Anita
anita
ParticipantDear James123:
Thank you for your answer. I want to love more in this way of radical acceptance, a way that not bound by preferences, judgments or desires, like you said. But how to accept really bad people?
Anita
September 1, 2025 at 10:39 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #449155anita
ParticipantDear Dafne:
Thank you for your beautiful message. I felt deeply moved reading your words. It means so much to me that you saw the tenderness in what I shared.
Yes—something did shift in me. I think our reconnection opened a space I didn’t know I needed. Feeling empathy for the younger me was new, and I wanted to tell you because it felt like part of that shift came from being in a deeper connection with you.
I hear you about the inner child. It’s not easy. I’ve known about the concept for many years, yet I didn’t even realize I hadn’t felt empathy for her—until the other day, when I actually did. That moment of empathy felt like an emotional 🤗 I extended to her, and for a few moments, her bodily tension evaporated. She was calm.
You just… don’t know what you don’t yet know. Know what I mean 🙂? These things can’t be forced.
Thank you for seeing me, Dafne, and for sharing your heart so openly. I feel the connection too.
Sending love and warmth back to you 💓 Anita
anita
ParticipantDear James:
A sense of peace came over me as I read your invitation to become love. And I find myself asking: what is love, truly? Not just in poetry, but in practice.
For me, it means to do-no-harm: no abusive behaviors toward others, but also allowing no harm to be done to me, as best I can. That means being selective and discerning about whom I choose to interact with, and how. It’s a learning experience for me.
When you say “live within love,” what does that look like for you?
🤍 Anita
September 1, 2025 at 8:41 am in reply to: Who’s Here—Really? A Gentle Roll Call for Our Tiny Community #449149anita
ParticipantThanks for replying, Roberta. Your voice matters, no matter how much you choose to share. There’s no need to compare experiences—everyone’s perspective is welcome.
I’m still hoping to hear from others who visit the forums regularly. If you post here daily, weekly, or even monthly, and you read or engage with threads, please say so. Just a quick “I’m here” or your name is enough.
Anita
September 1, 2025 at 8:22 am in reply to: Who’s Here—Really? A Gentle Roll Call for Our Tiny Community #449146anita
ParticipantThank you to those who replied. So far, only a few have named themselves, which seems to confirm the scale I was sensing—just a handful of regulars. Nothing personal, just naming what is.
Anita
anita
ParticipantDear James123:
I want to meditate on your words and incorporate words from the poem I quoted on your other thread:
“The body knows exactly how to react”- if I live with the world inside me. If I am alive no less than shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees, wood, water.
Shame, guilt, fear, anger- these blocked the life within me for a very, very long time.
I remember, I was in my 20s, and found myself in the middle of a busy street, startled by a truck passing by me a few steps away. I was sort of sleep walking into the street. My body did not react to danger, did not know how to react.
I didn’t radically accept the fear, shame and guilt, anger. I didn’t process and release, so they stayed, dimming my light and life.
“When fear comes, you don’t resist it; you let it be seen.”- I resisted fear, and in turn, it resisted me.
Instead of integration of emotions and awareness, there was fragmentation and sleep walking through life.
“Radical Acceptance is… about accepting what is happening inside you / your thoughts, emotions, fears, and impulses without resistance. It’s a full acknowledgment that life, including all feelings, is unfolding exactly as it is.”-
Hosaka says…Look, feel, let life take you by the hand. Let life live through you.
To not resist life within me. To witness it within-without. To see myself in others, to let myself be seen.
🤍 🌱 🕸️ Anita
August 31, 2025 at 9:24 am in reply to: Thought arises / life arises | Thought ceases / life vanishes #449126anita
ParticipantDear James123:
Your original post brought back to my memory the poem, Hokusai Says, by Roger S. Keyes. It’s a poem that mean t a lot to me but.. I’ve forgotten it for too long:
Hokusai says look carefully.
He says pay attention, notice.
He says keep looking, stay curious.
He says there is no end to seeing.He says look forward to getting old.
He says keep changing,
you just get more who you really are.
He says get stuck, accept it, repeat
yourself as long as it is interesting.He says keep doing what you love.
He says keep praying.
He says everyone of us is a child,
everyone of us is ancient,
everyone of us has a body.
He says everyone of us is frightened.
He says everyone of us has to find
a way to live with fear.He says everything is alive–
shells, buildings, people, fish,
mountains, trees, wood is alive.
Water is alive.Everything has its own life.
Everything lives inside us.
He says live with the world inside you.
He says it doesn’t matter if you draw,
or write books. It doesn’t matter
if you saw wood, or catch fish.
It doesn’t matter if you sit at home
and stare at the ants on your veranda
or the shadows of the trees
and grasses in your garden.
It matters that you care.It matters that you feel.
It matters that you notice.
It matters that life lives through you.
Contentment is life living through you.
Joy is life living through you.
Satisfaction and strength
is life living through you.Peace is life living through you.
He says don’t be afraid.
Don’t be afraid.Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.
Let life live through you.
anita
ParticipantDear James123:
“…Pure Consciousness allows the fear to arise, and the body acts naturally, flawlessly, without interference..”- and flawlessly explained, if I may say so. I am so impressed with your understandings. You have so much to offer others.
I want to reread and sit with this for a while before I respond further tomorrow or the next day. Thank you so much!
Anita
anita
ParticipantDear James123:
Your explanation is truly excellent—thank you so much. The clarity and depth you offered helped me feel not just informed, but invited into a new way of relating to my inner experience. What you wrote about fear and anger especially resonated, and I intend to practice those insights with care and curiosity.
I found myself rereading this line several times: “Pure Consciousness itself watches, and the fear begins to lose its power because there is no resistance feeding it.”- That image—of fear losing its grip simply because it’s seen without resistance—feels both profound and liberating.
I do have a question about the part on danger. You wrote: “When you allow yourself to fully face that fear, without trying to flee…”—I find myself pausing here. Isn’t the instinct to flee danger a survival mechanism? Something deeply wired into us for protection?
I suppose what I’m trying to reconcile is the difference between resisting fear and responding to actual danger. If the body is flooded with fear because it perceives threat, how do we distinguish between what needs to be welcomed and what needs to be acted upon? I’d love to hear more if you feel called to elaborate.
With appreciation and warmth, Anita
August 30, 2025 at 11:43 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #449101anita
ParticipantDear Dafne:
Thank you for seeing not just the words, but the heart behind them. It means so much to feel received with such kindness and openness.
You’re right—sometimes even with those closest to us, there can be a quiet ache of loneliness. That’s why exchanges like ours feel so meaningful. They remind me that connection can be found in unexpected places, and that compassion doesn’t need physical proximity to be felt.
Your words especially moved me: “What you offered wasn’t just an answer, it was a moment of connection.”- Answers are plentiful in spaces like these, but connection—that’s something different. It’s rarer, more precious than any clinical understanding of things, no matter how accurate (or not) that understanding may be.
We are not puzzles to be solved intellectually. We’re living, breathing beings who need—sometimes desperately—empathy. An emotional hug, if not a physical one.
That reminds me of something I wanted to share with you this morning, just before getting out of bed. Only recently—perhaps a couple of weeks ago—I had an image of myself as a young girl, somewhere in the first decade of life. I saw her scared. And for the first time, I felt something new: empathy for her. I was struck by how unfamiliar that feeling was.
All this time, I had been dissociated from her—split off. I think I kept telling her story here, again and again, because I was trying to connect with her. Trying to believe that what I was sharing had truly happened.
The dissociation ran deep and began so early. I suppose it was an instinctive response to acute emotional pain and fear—a way of saying, this isn’t really happening… I’m not really here.
I’m grateful for your presence, Dafne, and for the way you hold space with such grace. Thank you for meeting me in this place with warmth and humanity.
With appreciation and tenderness, Anita 💖💫
anita
ParticipantDear Debbie:
First, about what your therapist said—“Shame on you for judging your nephew”—
That phrase is deeply loaded. In therapy, shame is often the very wound people are trying to heal. It should never be used as a tool against the client.
Even if your therapist didn’t intend harm, saying “shame on you” crosses a line. It’s a moral judgment, not a therapeutic intervention. Therapists are trained to avoid language that shames or blames—especially when someone is working through trauma or relational pain. That kind of phrasing can shut down vulnerability, trigger old wounds, and make the space feel unsafe.
A trauma-informed therapist would have recognized that your anger wasn’t just about your nephew—it was connected to deeper pain. Instead of honoring your emotional clarity and protective instincts, the focus was redirected to your nephew’s possible suffering. That kind of reversal can feel invalidating, even disorienting.
While this may not qualify as a formal ethical violation, it does raise important concerns: emotional safety, attunement to trauma, and the power dynamics in the room—especially when a therapist uses shaming language and then backpedals without repair.
So let me say this clearly: you’re not overreacting. Your discomfort is real, and your instincts are trustworthy. That phrasing was inappropriate, full stop.
Even when a client has acted in harmful ways (which is not true in your case), the therapist’s role is to explore the why, not shame the who. There are ways to invite accountability that still honor dignity—like asking, “What do you feel when you think about that moment?” or “Can we explore how that may have affected the other person?” These kinds of questions open doors, rather than shutting them.
Some therapeutic styles do use challenge or confrontation—but never shaming. Even in intense moments, the language must stay rooted in respect and curiosity.
Again: shame is often the wound. It should never be the weapon.
Now, about your relationship with your nephew—
Your instinct to protect yourself, to journal through the pain, and to set boundaries is not only valid—it’s wise. Taking space wasn’t about punishment; it was about clarity. You recognized that his actions stirred something unresolved in you, and instead of reacting impulsively, you chose distance. That’s not avoidance—it’s discernment.
You didn’t lash out. You didn’t demand anything. You simply chose not to reach out as you normally would. That’s a boundary. Quiet, clear, and rooted in self-respect.
And the way you processed your anger—through writing, reflection, and self-inquiry—is a beautiful example of emotional maturity. You honored your truth without needing to make anyone else responsible for it. That’s emotional sovereignty: staying loyal to yourself, even when others might not understand.
Emotional intelligence isn’t just about empathy or communication—it’s about knowing what you need, honoring your limits, and responding to pain with clarity instead of chaos. You did all of that. And it’s not just valid—it’s powerful.
With warmth and respect, Anita
anita
ParticipantDear James123:
When I read what you shared the other day about Radical Acceptance, I was genuinely struck. I had always understood the term as referring to the acceptance of external situations— situations that I cannot change. But your framing invited me to consider how it might apply to my emotions, and that felt deeply meaningful. I’d love to understand it more fully.
You wrote: “When fear comes, you don’t resist it; you let it be seen.”- Could you elaborate on this? What does “let it be seen” look like in practice?
“When anger arises, you don’t judge it; you allow it to pass like a cloud.”- As it passes, what kind of inner dialogue or awareness is present? What thinking supports that release?
“Even danger, even uncertainty, welcomed without resistance, they lose their sting.”- Is it the danger itself that’s welcomed—or the fear of danger? And again, what kind of thinking allows for that welcoming?
Thank you for sharing such a rich perspective. I’m grateful for the clarity and depth you bring to these ideas, and I look forward to hearing more.
Warmly, Anita 😊
August 29, 2025 at 9:41 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #449073anita
ParticipantThank you, Dafne! Got to run- won’t be by the computer for the rest of the day. Will get back to you tomorrow. 💖
Anita
August 29, 2025 at 8:43 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #449067anita
ParticipantDear Dafne 🤍
Thank you for receiving my message with such openness and grace—it means a lot to feel that kind of resonance.
I agree so deeply: our stories are many-layered, and none of them need to be the whole truth. Just pieces we carry, sometimes heavy, sometimes light. And when someone like you reflects back kindness and understanding, it makes the weight feel a little more bearable.
I’m really glad we’re walking part of this journey in parallel. You remind me that connection doesn’t need to be perfect—it just needs to be real.
With warmth, Anita 🌿💖
-
AuthorPosts