Birth(day) of My Unconscious

My birthday is almost here.   Perhaps because I’m still sniffing, snorting, coughing, moaning & groaning from this cold that’s settled into my bronchial tubes, perhaps because of my fibro,  perhaps because every birthday reminds me of how short a time we spend on this planet I’m a bit down. Didn’t know it . . . until . . .

Since spending most of my days as a psychotherapist focusing on other people’s feelings, feelings, especially my own, are the last thing I want to pay attention to when I’m not working.  But since I’ve been facilitating Therapeutic Process Journaling Workshops I’ve stepped up my own creative journaling.

I keep telling my participants that their unconscious KNOWS what’s happening. Whether you intend it or not, unconscious messages come out in the journal pages.

As I was doing the cover of  a $1.00 notebook the picture of hands on a magazine cover seemed to be the right size and I liked the colors against the black and white notebook.  At least that’s what my conscious mind was focused on:  size & color.

When the cover was done it struck me that I wanted a helping hand.

I wasn’t feeling good physically or emotionally.  I also had been spending all my time at the office or alone with my computer – even neglecting Max and his walks.   I needed to reach out to family, friends.  And Max would add – take leash in hand and take him on walks! The cover left no room for doubt.

All that for $1.00 and glue!  Happy Birthday Judy.

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