It’s been hectic here lately, as I prepare to leave on a trip to Tucson. In my 12 years there, I met and married Ken, we survived his traumatic brain injury and my bout with breast cancer, and I began my journaling work. While I’m there, I’ll have an opportunity to visit our old home […]
About Barbara Stahura
This author has yet to write their bio.Meanwhile lets just say that we are proud Barbara Stahura contributed a whooping 14 entries.
Entries by Barbara Stahura
“Send me someone who has doubts about it/Who has conquered their own fear and lived to tell about it.” This line from David Crosby’s song “Dangerous Night” always touches my heart—-so much pain and longing and hope there. Admitting doubt these days requires courage and, oddly enough, great conviction—-that if perhaps I am wrong after […]
The other day Ken sneezed and I immediately said, “Bless you.” I’ve done this thousands of times over my lifetime when someone sneezed. My Catholic parents trained me to say “God bless you” so I still do it, decades later, even though I’m no longer religious. When I don’t say it, a feeling of incompleteness […]
I’ve been thinking lately about how we so naturally place labels on things and people and how they affect our Living, Breathing Story. Neurologically speaking, that labeling is a good thing—it allows our brains to make sense of the world so that we can more easily navigate through it. But these names and categories don’t exist in a vacuum. They all have emotional associations connected to them. While this further helps you function more easily in the world, it also leads to many potential problems in interactions with other human beings, each of whom has his or her own associations with the labels (see how confusing this can get?) .
Your life is built on any number of myths. I don’t mean that as an insult, or that your life is not true or has not happened. Far from it. As one of my favorite authors Unitarian Universalist minister Kate Braestrup said in a sermon some years ago: “A myth is a story that illustrates […]
This tiny, common word packs a ton of hope—and your body knows it. “Yet” can be a trusted guide through the Foreboding Forest of Fear or a safe passage across the Ocean of Doubt. It encourages you to keep going when perhaps you would rather just turn around and climb back under the covers. While it does not guarantee success—a fish will never be able to climb a tree, no matter how much it tries—it can improve your odds.
Fish live immersed in a universe of water, and because it is such a normal, natural part of their existence, they don’t realize that fact (until they are taken out of the water, of course). The same is generally true for humans and the oxygen we breathe. It’s always there, so we don’t think about it much—until we are somehow deprived of it. These are rather obvious examples of what we might call “invisible immersion.” Yet there is another kind of (generally) invisible immersion that actually controls a good chunk of our Story with little realization on our part. These are the stories that make up culture and society.
Take serious illness, for instance. What roles does our mindbody play in it? What are our stories about it? How do they affect the ways we treat it or live with it? Do they tell us to resist at all cost, to be grateful for the lessons it teaches, or…what? These questions have been on my mind a lot lately, and for a good reason.
Would you ever consider writing a letter to a body part that was giving you trouble, or to an illness? Or have that body part or illness write a letter to you? Pretty weird, right? Actually, not so weird. Letters are a wonderful therapeutic journaling technique, particularly the Unsent Letter. This technique is just what it […]
Here’s a short version of a story about me I used to tell myself: After getting divorced in my mid-20s, I was single even at age 49 despite some dating and several short-term relationships during the intervening years. I came to believe I would never have a good relationship, and I was often upset and frustrated […]