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  • A Period Piece
  • A sneak preview of the Gertie sequel!
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  • Chore Zoning or Don't try this at home!
  • The 50 with Meredith Morse—Opera Singer
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  • AT LAST! My interview with Shan White, Life Coach for women in transition
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  • The Date
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  • The "R" Word
  • The 50 with Carol Shepherd Rickman
  • Triumph During Transitions
  • A Kentucky Afternoon
  • Mothers
  • 10 things chemo taught me
  • What if . . .
  • Forgiveness—A poem
  • Mantegories (n. from the Latin; man+categories)
  • Insomnia 101
  • Blooming Bud Interview: Sierra
  • Masterful Mindsets
  • It's in the bag!
  • Important lessons for children: Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can
  • Nursery rhymes, and times, and slimes, and grimes, and crimes
  • Things I learned as a single mom
  • Sadie's Soapbox: Dating
  • The Dress
  • 8 Things That Have Surprised Me About Having a Large Family
  • The gift of longing
  • The Semicolon Project
  • Most embarrassing moments—culinary edition
  • MilitaReality—a brat's perspective
  • About those elusive wisps of thought
  • Being there
  • The Giving Mom
  • How I still haven't learned to keep my smart mouth shut!
  • If you give a mom a cookie . . .
  • Cacti and Geraniums
  • The Three Gardeners
  • Beauty is as beauty does
  • Words for Sabra
  • Arm scratching in Baltimore
  • Pornography didn't kill our love and friendship . . . I did . . . and how we got it back
  • Hardening off our little bloomers
  • The Wonderful, Magical Women of Blooming Television
  • Shake it like a Polaroid picture!
  • 25 Date Nights (that aren't dinner and a movie)
  • Hills Like White Elephants
  • Maryland Beaten Biscuits
  • The night we thought the house was exploding
  • A mysterious case of goosebumps or "What is that on the wall?"
  • Militareality—Real stories of military wives
  • Finding my metal in wood
  • Another blooming bud interview
  • Chariot of Fire
  • Secret gifts of love
  • The best prank I ever pulled was . . .
  • Connie
  • Dating and other hazards
  • Favorite childhood memories
  • When God speaks . . .
  • Zanie gets into another sticky situation
  • No-see-ums: A little useful information
  • I love my kids, but . . .
  • Meg's poem
  • Another blooming bud interview
  • Some of my favorite herbal recipes are . . .
  • I love my cat, but . . .
  • I love all creatures, but . . .
  • The thing all girls and women must see and know . . .
  • The Great Chicken Debacle
  • The Powerful Influence of Brothers
  • How I feel about blooming is . . .
  • Sometimes grandma is up—other times she is simply upside-down
  • Anyone out there as anxious as I am?
  • Some of my funniest childhood memories are . . .
  • You might be addicted to Harry Potter if . . .
  • This month's survey:
  • Another Blooming Bud interview
  • The most valuable life lesson I've learned is . . .
  • The greatest blessing to come out of the most painful thing I ever experienced was . . .
  • The most powerful influence on my life is . . .
  • The thing that could have broken our family, but didn't was . . .
  • The funniest thing that ever happened to me was . . .
  • The time my dad really surprised me was when . . .
  • NEW FEATURE: Interviews with Blooming Buds
  • ANOTHER NEW FEATURE: A survey
  • The most valuable life lesson I've ever learned is . . .
  • My most embarrassing moment was when . . .
  • What really puzzles me is . . .
  • One of the most fun days I ever had was . . .
  • The most scared I've ever been was when . . .
  • The people who have been the biggest influence on me are . . .
  • I like to relax by . . .
  • The best way to do . . .
  • My most embarrassing moment was when . . .
  • The most fun I ever had was when . . .
  • When I grow up, I want to be . . .
  • What really puzzles me is . . .
  • The most amazing bargain I ever found was . . .
  • Those annoying things kids do and what they mean
  • My shameless self-promotion
  • The thing about getting older is . . .

The joy of hypnotherapy!

8/3/2015

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My recent experiences with hypnotherapy can be read here, but the results are what I'm going to write about today. 


I did the most recent trance to alleviate a "block" I was feeling. And, man, did it work in spades! I am feeling really, really "unblocked" and it is manifesting itself in my writing. Thousands of great words pouring through my fingertips onto the electronic screen of love. 


One of the things I'm working on, at the urging of my therapist, is my autobiography. I have started this so many times, but could never get it quite right. The quandary is how to write in my humorous style all the trauma that can in no way be transcribed as funny or laughable. There was so much of it that my psychiatrist asked me how often I thought about suicide. 


When I answered, "never," he asked me, "Why not? How can you not?" I have to tell you the truth, there was an "I don't even believe you" eye roll when I gave him my answer. He doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm lying and I certainly understand why. It is sometimes unfathomable to me that I haven't thrown in the towel. 


But my answer is simple. I am a daughter of God and that makes me divinity, royalty, and worth something. I have a responsibility to show my gratitude for the sacrifice of my elder brother, Jesus Christ, by doing everything I can to make the most of this sometimes troublesome and sometimes joyful life I've been given. I have to do everything in my power to serve others, which is the only way I know how to pull myself out of a pool of self-pity. I am also required to find that joy. Sometimes that means going through my own rubbish and pulling out some silly or loving memory and washing it up and hanging it on the wall so I can see it when I walk past. 


I now, with intervention and self-discipline, love my life! I am joyful. I feel the compulsion to spread that joy to others. I want to be a lifeline. I want to sing from the mountains like Julie Andrews and raise everyone's spirits to where mine is. 


I love you all and am so proud to call you friends, old and new!


Peace and love, always,


Becky Lyn
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    Author

    Becky Lyn Rickman writes because it is the only way to placate the voices in her head so she doesn't miss out on that precious 45 minutes of sleep every night. Life can become a little congested for her in the 400 sq. ft. apartment in which she lives, intentionally, like a mushroom, pounding at the keyboard in the dark with the unsolicited assistance of her two therapy cats, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Yes, they are Austenian. She spends a few hours each day shamefully lamenting the fact that her faith won't allow her to be a profanity-spewing, bourbon-guzzling, burning-the-midnight-oil chain smoker. The rest of the time, she spends in shameless gratitude that her children have not, as yet, put her away.

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