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Heather Emelin Graham <golightlymuse>

"Modern Day Muse: Part Fairy Godmother, Part Greek Goddess"

	What is a Muse? (More than you needed to know!)	600 days ago
	WHAT IS A MUSE? MUSE - reverie, trance, awareness/unawareness, dream/daydream, rumination, contemplation, (state of) meditation "A true muse infuses art and creation. She awakens your soul's desire while she illuminates it. Her grace reveals realms beyond those you know in your tangible world. Her truest whisperings will nourish your imagination. She has a gift for prophecy so you should listen when she visits you with her guidance. Do not fear or idolize her but respect her and she will light your way out of darkness like the moon in a night without stars." EUTERPE The Muse of lyric poetry has her origin in water. The ancients believed that water talked as it flowed, so this goddess is endowed with the gift of prophecy. A prophet is also a poet and can inspire others to unlock the secret desires of their heart. ESSAYS BASED ON CLIENT QUESTIONS HOW DO WE HEAL? Every person's capacity, readiness, and willingness to forgive themselves is different. The specific ways we each move toward self-acceptance and self-forgiveness are as distinct and individual as we are. Our timing, our clarity about our perceptions of ourselves, our capacities for being accountable but unashamed about our worst mistakes and misdeeds, our fear of facing and accepting our "bad selves", our resistance to change, our payoffs for staying stuck. All variables that factor into if, when and how we will find a place of forgiveness within us and begin to learn how to love ourselves as being broken and whole. Both just opposite sides of our humanity, perfectly imperfect. I feel reluctant to offer any process, paradigm or principle about what is specifically involved in breaking out of our core stuff enough to start to experience what it is to be free of old tapes that rewind and replay endlessly on internal movie screens. I can share my own process and look for ways it is similar to the paths of others who I know now stand on the other side of their dark mountains...or molehills, as the case may be. I sometimes feel mired in the shifting sands of my own shadow's arid deserts, or still sticky with glue binding me to shame or regret about past experiences and who I believe myself to be down deep. These times are challenging and frustrating in light of how far my healing journey has taken me. I can offer insight only about the parts of this journey that are well behind me. Like all of us, my own vision becomes blurry from time to time or at points along the way. I imagine if I were completely self-realized and had attained a state of true enlightenment, I would no longer be in a human body! While I can't recommend a step by step process for achieving transcendence, I do like what this writer shares about the process involved with facing and claiming our shadow selves: Each of us must make the conscious choice to step out of the belief that we are victims of our lives and open up to the possibility that we have created our particular circumstances for a reason. We must commit to looking at our lives as though each and every quality, person and circumstance has been drawn to us in order to give us specific insights and wisdom. This requires us to examine each aspect of ourselves and our lives and ask, "Why would I need this? How could this be a catalyst for me to grow and evolve? How could this quality or situation serve me in creating the life I desire?" Transformation requires nothing more than having a shift in perception. It is choosing to look at our lives in a way that empowers rather than disempowering us. At its core, this process requires us to make the choice to see ourselves though the eyes of the Divine. From an article by Debbie Ford, best-selling author of The Dark Side of the Light Chasers and The Secret of the Shadow, www.debbieford.com. BUT HOW DO WE TRANSCEND OUR LIMITATIONS? I will attempt to answer your question about how to transcend one's limitations. My answer for you is in the inspirational words of two other muses. May they illuminate your path, as they once did mine. "...and then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." - Anais Nin You need to claim the events of your life to make yourself yours. When you truly possess all that you have been and done, which may take some time, you are fierce with reality. - Florida Scott Maxwell, The Measure of My Days Live up to your Destiny. You know who you are and that you can fulfill your potential. I believe in you. The Mad Muse of Marin, Heather Emelin Graham xo "You're Only As Sick As Your Secrets," an excerpt from a chapter in my memoir, THE GIRL MOST LIKELY TO I fought against the rounded feminine curves my body was beginning to show as I turned twelve. Becoming a woman felt like a betrayal by my own body. I quickly learned that I could stay childlike through stringent dieting and exercise, and began to starve myself. I had no way of knowing then that my attempt to control my body would evolve into a different kind of fight - the fight for my life. Hospitalized three times for anorexia nervosa and bulimia, I struggled to find balance and health, and to break the chains which bound me. Little did I know at the time that places meant to heal can be as dysfunctional as the ailments they are supposed to treat! Here is another excerpt from my forthcoming book, The Girl Most Likely To. YOU’RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS! Mom walked into the bathroom, certain from the sounds of my retching and repeated toilet flushing that I had spent the night there. Her face looked tight and pinched, and her mouth was set in a determined line, as she said tersely, “I won’t have you die in my house. If you’re going to do this to yourself, you need to find somewhere else to live. I can’t watch while you hurt yourself like this, not anymore.” My stomach lurched, this time from fear and not from the handful of laxatives I had swallowed several hours ago in an attempt to purge myself of the food I had consumed the previous night. “I know,” I said in a small voice. “I know I need to stop, and I know I need help, but I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried counseling and group therapy and behavior modification and nutritional counseling and exercise and…” My voice trailed off as I began to lose steam in this diatribe of futile efforts I had made to recover from the eating disorder that had taken twelve years of my life and nearly killed me. “Here’s the Yellow Pages,” Mom replied, her voice firm and unyielding, “Find a place where you can get help as an in-patient. There has a to be a clinic that treats eating disorders! Anyway, you can’t stay here. Your sisters and I can’t take you!” Trembling with reluctance and dread, I began to go through the Yellow Pages to see what sort of rehabilitative programs I could find. I knew my mother meant what she said. The jig was up. I had no choice but to surrender myself to some sort of hospital and hope for the best. After diligent phone research, I underwent a telephone intake with a representative of the Care Unit of Los Angeles, Eating Disorder Unit (E.D.U.) and reserved a space for myself. During the flight to Los Angeles, the passenger next to me talked eagerly about her vacation plans in Southern California, which included her first visit to Disneyland. “Are you visiting anyone special?” she beamed, “Or, going somewhere exciting?” I squirmed in my seat nervously, wondering if she would know I was lying as I answered, “Oh, well, not the Wonderful World of Disney, that’s for sure! More like a spa experience.” “Wow,” she responded, impressed, “That sounds great! How long will you stay there?” This time I answered truthfully, “As long as it takes to feel healthier, or maybe I should say, as long as they’ll keep me!” I had no choice but to give my destination to my cab driver. “Are you going to see a friend?” he asked, knowing instantly that the Care Unit was a rehab center for all kinds of addicts. “Umm, yeah…” I began. I realized my suitcases would be a dead giveaway. “Well, actually, I’m checking in for awhile to learn about exercise and nutrition!” The cabbie glanced in his rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. “Oh? I hear it’s a good place for that.” When we arrived at the center, I felt as though I was committing myself to an insane asylum. The building looked austere and unwelcoming, and the lobby smelled like stale cigarettes and hospital food. Patients milled about, some in hospital gowns, others in street clothes with expressions either blank or wild-eyed. I peered out the lobby window at the taxi as it headed back to the freeway, wondering if I should run for my life. “Too late,” I thought, “And where would I go anyway?” With a deep sigh of resignation, I completed the registration paperwork the Intake Counselor gave me and then followed her to my room. Expecting a posh room with a nice television, magazines and a scenic view, I was dismayed to see two rundown looking twin beds and one bathroom without a bathtub and cold, pink formica floors. Even more upsetting was my first sight of my roommate, Kim, an obese African American teenager who was lying on top of her bed scratching herself obsessively with her Lee Press-On nails. I looked back at the Intake Counselor, signaling her with my eyes. We stepped back into the hallway. “I don’t understand,” I said, “I didn’t know I would have a roommate, and if I have to have one, why would I be given someone FAT?” On a roll, I continued, “I mean, isn’t this supposed to be a place where people recover from eating disorders? I can’t be around someone so overweight! It will freak me out! At least, give me a roommate I can relate to!” The Intake Counselor gave me a tight smile as she let me know that my roommate would not be changed. “We deliberately put our anorexic and bulimic patients with compulsive overeaters who are carrying weight. We want you to confront your fears and force you to see beyond the numbers on a scale.” Almost in tears, I entered my new room, hoping Kim hadn’t heard my impassioned plea. Apparently, she had. “I don’t want some skinny Princess, either!” she said with a glare, “But, that’s what I got. So, we gotta ‘deal’, okay?” “I get the first shower in the morning,” she added. Trying not to gag as I imagined her corpulent body naked in the shower, I began to unpack my belongings, careful to organize my clothing in neat, category-specific piles in the bureau drawers I was allotted. I wiped my finger along the top of the bureau, wrinkling my nose in distaste as my fingertip was covered in dust. This was not the kind of clinic I had counted on for my healing experience. Little did I know that dust and germs would be the least of my complaints! A tall, gaunt woman with a cloud of frizzy brown hair strode into our room. I couldn’t help but compare her to Olive Oil on a bad hair day. “I’m Ellie,” she said, her eyes direct and unblinking. “And you two need to join our Day Group in the Conference Room.” Seeing no movement on our part, Ellie advanced a few more steps. “NOW, Ladies!” she exclaimed. “This isn’t an elective.” Kim took refuge in the bathroom, claiming to have stomach pains, while I followed Ellie meekly to group therapy. The group was already in session and two of its members were engaged in a heated argument. “Gary isn’t listening to my ‘share’!” spat a woman with skin as loose and wrinkled as an overripe grape. “He doesn’t participate in Group, and I’m tired of telling my secrets when he doesn’t share his own!” I looked around the circle as I took the first empty seat I spied, curious to see who “Gary” was, and what a man with an eating disorder looked like. Gary looked much like a bullfrog. The skin under his chin was bulging and distended, his eyes small and beady, and he was licking his lips nervously. I half expected his tongue to dart out and hit the woman who continued to berate him. “It doesn’t feel ‘safe to say’ in this group with him here!” she gestured wildly at the group leader, who sat calmly with a twisted smile on her face as though she was enjoying the show. The facilitator now turned her attention toward Gary. “Gary,” she said in a placating tone of voice, “How does it make you feel when K Joy talks about you like that?” All heads turned to look at Gary, who was now sweating profusely and licking and biting his dry lips. Again I thought of a bullfrog readying his tongue for the kill. “I-uh-um…I…It feels…It…” A second man interrupted Gary as we all struggled to stay patient. Or, perhaps it was a woman who just looked like a man. I studied his – her – adam’s apple, trying to tell the difference and decided it was a woman. “Maybe she had a sex change operation,” I thought. “Gary, I’m so tired of you staying in your head! Just once, tell us how you fucking feel!” Gary’s eyes were now wet, his expression defeated. “Okay,” he said softly but in a nasal voice. “I feel bad.” At once, several patients chimed, “’Bad’ is not a feeling Gary!” “Okay,” Gary said in a strained voice, “I feel sad.” “That’s a start,” the counselor threw in. “Now, guys, we have a new member. Let’s have her introduce herself so she can come into the group.” I looked around, then realized she was talking about me. Suddenly my mouth felt as though it was filled with cotton. All eyes were upon me, with expressions that showed no mercy. My stomach lurched as I tried to compose myself. “I’m Heather,” I said flatly, “I am here to recover from bulimia, but I used to be anorexic, so I guess I need to heal from both disorders.” The group remained silent. “I’m Annie and I’m a Compulsive Overeater,” the counselor interjected. In unison, the rejoinder “Hi, Annie!” sounded throughout the small conference room. “Welcome, Heather,” she added, then paused deliberately, waiting for the group. “Welcome, Heather!” they parroted loudly. I wanted to go home. This group bit was not going to work, especially if they were going to be corny and cloying. I dreaded getting any feedback. My chance was coming sooner than I thought. “Heather, this particular group is called ‘You’re Only As Sick As Your Secrets.’” Annie explained. “Since we want you to be a part of the community, you can begin the secret round by sharing a secret you have never told anyone. Something you are ashamed about. Your secrets will eat at you, and that’s why your eating isn’t normal.” Everyone stared at me, smiling in anticipation. “Go ahead,” Annie said in a slow, saccharine voice. “Well…” I stalled for time, trying to decide what I was willing to share with these strangers, “Um, well, when I was little, I used to take the heads off the Barbie dolls at the toy store so that I could put them on my own Barbies and that way, have more dolls. I was too afraid to take the whole dolls,” I explained reluctantly, afraid to raise my eyes to meet the eyes of my listeners. “Hmmm..” said Annie, “Okay, good share, Heather. Good work.” She turned to Gary. “Gary, since the group is feeling like you aren’t sharing your feelings, I think you should go next.” Gary took a deep breath and then held it, as if to plunge into the middle of the circle like a deep sea diver. “I take prostitutes home with me,” he began, “then I put a blue light bulb into the light on my nightstand and tie them up to my headboard.” Nonplussed, and without a change in expression, Gary continued. “Then I stick a blue nerf ball into their mouths, so they can spit it out if it hurts too much when I start to hit them.” “I pay them based on how long they can take it before they drop the ball,” he concluded, now looking like a CPA closing his client’s books with satisfaction. “Great work, Gary!” exclaimed Annie. “Really honest share!” The group nodded, some shifting their ample weight restlessly, the anorexic looking members wrapping their sweaters tighter around themselves as they shivered. “Now, I’m going to share,” said Annie. Already stunned by Gary’s admission, this declaration also startled me. I had been in group therapy before. The role of the counselor is to facilitate the group. They are never supposed to disclose personal information. I was curious to hear what secret Annie would relay. “Last week, I stole a sterling silver tea set from Robinson’s Department Store,” she began, “and then, I threw a party that night and served dessert on it.” Already unnerved, I hoped she was done ‘sharing’ and glanced over at the clock, praying the group would end soon. “Anyway,” she continued, leaning into the center of the group and almost leering at us with the delight of true storyteller when the audience is completely under their spell. “When I threw the party, my Great Dane came into the dining room and licked me!” She gestured toward her crotch, laughing, “I had taught him to do that, but not in front of people!” she crowed, “So, I said ‘Bad dog, bad dog!’ then got him into the kitchen and said ‘Good dog, good dog!’” I looked around the room, sure I would find confederates who would report this shocking admission to the head of the Eating Disorder Unit (E.D.U.). The woman who looked like a sagging prune, K Joy, was picking at her fingernails, clearly bored. Gary seemed to be falling asleep. The militant she-he was tapping on her wristwatch, reminding Annie that group was about to end. No one seemed the least bit shocked or surprised. I headed toward the pay phone down the hall the minute the group disbanded. “You aren’t allowed to use the pay phone without Staff permission,” shouted a nurse. “I have permission!” I lied, almost running to the telephone before I was noticed by anyone else. Shaking, I dialed my mother’s phone number. “Collect call from Heather,” the operator said, “Will you accept the call?” “No, I won’t operator,” Mom replied. “Mom! Please! It’s an emergency!” I screamed. She accepted the charges, but her greeting wasn’t friendly. “Heather, I have been told not to take any calls from you. You aren’t allowed to get in touch with anyone outside of the unit for your first ten days there. Now, what’s the big emergency?” My words tumbled out in a scattered rush, as I tried to explain the horrors I had already encountered. Clearly, I needed to find another hospital! I knew she would understand. She didn’t budge. “I’m sorry it’s so bad, Heather,” she said in an irritated tone of voice, “but you got yourself there. It’s nobody’s fault but your own. Now you have to deal with your problem. I can’t help you.” In disbelief, I tried again, “But Mom, the counselor is crazy! And so are the other patients! I know I’m sick, but I’m not ‘psycho’…and, my roommate is huge and nasty and, my room isn’t even clean, and…” Mom cut me off, “Sweetie, I’m sorry. Find another place that will take you then, but I can’t do anything for you here. You need to take care of your own problems now. You’re a grown woman. And, I don’t know what to do or what to tell you.” The phone went dead. In tears, I looked up from the receiver to see Ellie, her arms folded tightly in front of her. “We have strict rules about phone privileges here, Heather, and I know those rules were explained to you. You won’t be punished this time,” she continued in a monotone, “but don’t think you are too good for our rules. ‘Gentle eating’ will be held in the dining room in twenty minutes. You need to be on time for all activities. No excuses.” Aghast, I repeated back to her, “’Gentle eating’? What is that supposed to mean?” Ellie replied, “We practice cutting each bite of our dinner slowly, put our utensils down between bites, then chew each bite of our food completely. We don’t speak when we are practicing gentle eating, but we do listen to soothing music. This technique should teach you to learn to recognize when your body is hungry and when it is full.” This segment of "You're Only As Sick As Your Secrets" will be continued... 9 Comments - 14 Kudos Heather, at first I was numb, speechless. Your writing is very captivating, how long have you been writing about this? I have no doubt that this will interest the publisher. The title of the segment certainly hits home. What a journey we are all given. How lucky we are for those who are willing to share with use and how wise we are to listen and learn. I feel very fortunate for those I have met and all I continue to learn. Thank you. Your friend Gail Posted by HEAVENLY on Saturday, December 03, 2005 Great writing, Heather! I'm a little confused as to how old you were when you went to this frightening place...your mother said you were a grown woman, but the intro mentioned turning 12... ?? Posted by snazi2002 on Thursday, December 08, 2005 Reply by Heather Emelin When I turned twelve, my family doctor weighed me and I had gone from 112 to 122 lbs. since my last visit to see him. I was beginning to have curves, which I was determined not to have. My eating disorder began shortly after that time, and continued for twelve years. When I was twenty four I was admitted to the CareUnit Eating Disorder Unit I describe in this chapter. Now you understand why I said I have needed to recover from recovery! (And, unfortunately, I have other such experiences to share.) How sweet you are to have taken the time to read this "blog". Thanks for your compliment! It means a lot. Posted by Heather Emelin on Thursday, December 08, 2005 First of all, I give you great kudos for your courage to share your experience with this affliction. I believe that when this gets published, (and I pray that it does), it will help those who need it. It took courage to make that step finding a facility to get you through it. Thanx for sharing your experience. Posted by Etocha on Saturday, December 17, 2005 HEATHER E. GRAHAM PROFESSIONAL BIOGRAPHY (CORPORATE MUSE) Ms. Graham has an accomplished background in marketing, recruiting, sales and training for Fortune 100 corporations as well as publicly traded start-ups. In 1995 she founded and now operates her own recruiting and consulting company, Graham Executive Support Services, in San Anselmo, California, with established engagements in the Bay Area. Heather graduated Magna cum Laude from Northwestern University with a Bachelor of Science degree in Communications. She minored in Foreign Languages and Political Science. Heather is proficient in Spanish and Italian and has used both languages in many professional contexts. During an internship through Northwestern University, Heather ran the Radio Division of the White House Press Office. She dubbed and edited broadcast actualities for the out-of-town press, and particularly, for national radio networks. Other responsibilities included promotion of the White House Radio News National 800 Line and enlistment of new stations in the service. She also covered hearings at the House of Representatives and Senate, State Department, and all Presidential news conferences. Post-graduate, Ms. Graham was a department head of Public Relations, Corporate Communications and Marketing Services for Best Western International Headquarters. Heather ensured the satisfaction of existing membership hoteliers, as well as new Best Western membership hotels. As the sole female sales representative for Hewlett-Packard Company in Southern California, Heather marketed, sold and serviced the HP3000 mini-computer line, a line which ranged from an average of one hundred thousand dollars to up to one million dollars. Heather became the number one sales representative out of eighty salespersons within her first six months on the job. Consulting and training corporate personnel in diverse marketplaces has always been of interest to Ms. Graham. She has headed up enrollment for seminars for such well-known speakers as John Gray, Tom Hopkins and Jim Fadiman and Bob Frager of Omega Trainings (the founders of the Institute for Transpersonal Studies in Menlo Park, and the originators of the “Be All You Can Be” program for the United States Armed Services). In addition to enrolling participants for their motivational seminars, she managed logistics and served as a group facilitator. Heather also created her own trainings, for which she has marketed and booked herself as a speaker for such clients as AT & T Treasury, American Continental Corporation, M & M Mars, and Epson America. Clients describe Ms. Graham as a powerful, dynamic woman who knows how to realize her dreams, and how to facilitate others in realizing their own. She loves working with people of all varieties, helping them grow a business through inspirational marketing programs, quality management skills, open communication and infectious enthusiasm.
	posted by Heather Emelin Graham