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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years

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And now for something completely different

@alittlestarling and I were plotting an AU of our squishy mage children when she mentioned in passing another AU where Vincent wasn’t in the picture and Roz and Rolfe had met in Haven instead. To say that I was a) excited about this idea and b) completely SOLD on the pairing is a gross understatement.

This is 2,000-ish words of 100% rough and unedited writing, but the prospect of a new pairing knocked a bunch of rust off my stagnant writing gears. Enjoy the start of an AU of an AU!

Upon meeting one of the fledgling Inquisition’s leaders, Rolfe Trevelyan, senior member of a secretive order of spies, trusted bodyguard to the Chantry’s upper echelon, confident musician and charming rogue, found himself desperately wishing that the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

Rolfe had plenty of time to craft his introduction on the trip from Orlais to the snowy backwater village of Haven. Considering that both the Left and Right Hands of the Divine were both involved with what most of the remaining Chantry leaders were calling a heretical group, he’d decided early on that honesty would be the best policy while explaining his presence. His superiors had ordered him to investigate the Inquisition, to survey the damage of the destroyed Conclave, and to verify reports that Chancellor Roderick had been sending back about a redheaded nobody of a mage that Rolfe was almost certain was named Rosalind - or maybe it was Rosmund; for someone who handled the Divine’s correspondence and was responsible for communicating her will to the rest of Thedas, Roderick was dismissive of the woman’s name at best and downright inconsistent with names at worst - and weigh the threat she supposedly posed to the world with his own eyes. He had gone over what he would say time and time again, mentally editing and polishing until each word shone like freshly-minted coppers.

The last leg of his journey had him practicing a charming smile as a way to distract himself from the biting cold and the wind that cut through his cloak and the multiple layers of clothing he wore underneath. He took some time to straighten his cloak and make sure his hair was in some semblance of order while he took in what could only be defined as a refugee camp. This was no army ready to overthrow the Chantry, this was a gathering place for people running from the chaos in the Hinterlands, both from the conflict between mages and Templars as well as from the demons pouring out of rifts in the sky. Ever observant, he made a note of the few handful of people teaching farmers and stablehands how to make use of the pointy ends of swords with varying degrees of success.

His steps faltered at the first glance of Cassandra Pentaghast, the former Right Hand of the Divine. He’d only seen her from afar once or twice in his twenty-year tenure in the Chantry’s service, and was unprepared for the combined sense of competence and almost cowing intimidating presence she radiated. He was both impressed and intrigued as he veered away from the makeshift training grounds and made his way further up the hill towards the Chantry.

“Ser Rolfe Trevelyan, of the Order of the Sacred Flame,” he muttered under his breath, passing a dwarf huddled by a fire who was not-so-quietly complaining about the cold. Rolfe could have sworn he had heard him comment about how he should have never left Kirkwall, but he wasn’t quite sure. “Ser Alexander Caldwell sent me on behalf of…” He rounded a corner and froze to the spot when he spied a flash of red inside a tent set up just outside of the Chantry doors. His mouth went dry and his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. All sense of charm or good manners seemed to abandon him as he made his way inside.

He didn’t get but a foot inside when the woman turned at his presence. “Ser Rolfe Trevelyan,” she said, tipping her head in recognition. “I should have expected the Order to send their best agent.”

Rolfe opened his mouth, his well-practiced speech evaporating from his lips just as his breath fogged in front of his face. “Sister Nightingale knows my name?”

An hour later, Rolfe found himself wedged in a corner of the Singing Maiden, a watered down mug of what could only be considered “beer” consoling his battered ego. He’d bungled up the only chance he had at making a first impression, but had luckily recovered soon after. His explanation for his presence had been received with cool eyes, Sister Leliana’s gaze seemingly cutting through him more keenly than the wind around them, yet chilling him to the bone in the same manner, if not even more so. She’d raised an eyebrow as she listened, and Rolfe had the distinct impression that had she been displeased with his reasons for his arrival, she would have dispatched him on the spot.

At least Commander Rutherford was a bit less of a challenge, he thought, sipping at his drink. He made a face and pushed it to the side, offering it to a man with soot-covered hands and the look of a local blacksmith, fishing under his cloak for a silver flask and taking a swig of premium Antivian brandy, the liquor warming him from the inside out. Commander Cullen had been skeptical of Rolfe’s arrival, yet practical enough to offer a curt greeting and take him up on an offer to help train anyone who showed more promise with daggers than with sword and shield. Seeker Pentaghast had given him a dismissive snort when he made an offhand comment that not everyone could be blessed with her proficiency in weaponry, but he was certain that he had caught the faintest tinge of pink dust her cheeks at his comment.

“The Herald would be here to welcome you,” Ambassador Montilyet had explained, “however, she is currently traveling through the Hinterlands seeking support before journeying towards Orlais.”

It had been disappointing that Rosalind - the Herald of Andraste’s name had been Rosalind - hadn’t been present, but it gave Rolfe some time to figure things out now that he’d been welcomed and not immediately told to shove back off to Orlais post-haste. After his brief meeting with her advisers, he’d taken a short tour of Haven and had the misfortune of running into Chancellor Roderick himself. The man was trying his best to incite division within the population seeking aid and break up the Inquisition from the inside out. Rolfe found himself disliking him immediately.

He shuffled closer to the corner of the table he had secured and scanned the crowd. Taverns and inns had long since been familiar and welcome places to him and even in the midst of all the current upheaval, the Singing Maiden proved to be no different. There was a certain sense of comfort in the scenery and Rolfe’s people watching skills came out to play. He briefly entertained himself with making up professions and identities for the anonymous patrons. He was halfway through imagining that the woman perched on a stool near the worn and scarred bar was a noble in exile when the door opened and a small, well-bundled up woman came through, a hood and scarf wrapped around her head. She briefly stopped at the fire next to the bar to warm her hands before taking the mug the barmaid offered her. Whoever she was, no one seemed to pay her much mind as she wove her way through the crowd, eyes scanning for an empty seat.

Ever the chivalrous type, Rolfe stood and waved her down. “Fancy a seat?” he asked, habit making him flash her a smile that showed off a dimple on the right side of his cheek.

She paused and gave him a quick once-over. Now that she was closer, Rolfe could see that the tops of her cheeks and end of her nose were red from the cold. “Depends, does it come with a price?”

He leaned his hip against the edge of the table. “Only the price of my company, my lady.” Her hands were soft looking, so the brief thought that she could have been a baker or a shopkeep fled from his mind. Perhaps she was the noble in exile, though the way that she sipped at her drink - tea, from the looks of the leaves floating on the surface - quickly made him think otherwise. She regarded him with bright blue eyes that reminded him of a summer sky, a dusting of freckles that showed up once her face had warmed up from being out of the cold catching his attention.

She gave a brief snort of laughter before sipping her tea. “And if I don’t want to pay for my seat?”

“Then I shall bid you good evening and go soothe my wounded heart elsewhere.”

She rolled her eyes. “Something tells me that you don’t have to do that often.”

He grinned. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh no, I am not feeding an ego. I may not know you, but I know someone fishing for compliments when I see it.”

Well, this was a far better way to finish off a day of embarrassing himself in front of the Inquisition and then striking out at greeting the Herald. “If you’re not going to fish, mind if I throw out a lure of my own? What is a lovely lady like yourself doing in a place like this?”

It earned her another laugh, even as she rolled her eyes again. “Compliments and a come here often opening line? It isn’t even my birthday.” She sighed and slumped in her seat. “To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Oh. That sounded less like a lighthearted quip and more of a start of a silent request for a sounding board. “If it helps, I’ve been told that I’m an excellent listener. Sometimes it’s best to get what’s on your mind off your mind over a few drinks and company that won’t judge.”

She sighed. “Thank you, but I fear that what’s on my mind is more than what a mug of tea and conversation with a stranger could cover.”

Rolfe didn’t know what it was about her, but he was compelled to dig in. Perching a leg on the edge of the table, he leaned his elbow on his thigh. “How about a secret for a secret? I tell you one thing that happened to me today and you tell me one thing that’s bothering you? Like I said, no judgement.”

Her eyebrow raised again. “You are a persistent one, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term tenacious. I’ve been told it’s a defining feature of mine.”

“Somehow, I think someone meant stubborn when they told you that.” She took another sip. “So, how was your day?”

“I made an ass out of myself in front of one of the Herald’s advisers.”

She sat up straighter. “How so?”

“I had a whole speech on who I was and why I was up here prepared and I garbled the entire thing.” He felt his face heat up when she burst out laughing. “Hey! I said no judging!”

She smiled behind the rim of her mug. “You said that, I made no such promises. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You would say that, you didn’t blush like a schoolboy and forget your own name when Sister Leliana declared she already knew who you were before you could even get a single word in. I’m certain she thinks I’m an idiot.”

That earned him another laugh. “Somehow I seriously doubt that. Leliana isn’t one to harshly judge people by first impressions. Believe me, I know.”

He snapped to attention at the mention of being on a first name basis with Leliana, though he easily kept his relaxed posture. “And I doubt that you could have made a horrible first impression.” Rolfe’s eyes scanned her features, trying to catch a glimpse of any hair that peeked out from under her hood. The tavern’s dim lighting worked to his disadvantage, making discerning if her eyebrows were a brown or red color difficult. “Now, your turn. How was your day?”

She looked away, her shoulders curving inwards as if she was trying to curl in on herself to make herself smaller. “I…” Her brows furrowed. “I found a friend, of sorts.”

“Friends are always good. Someone in high places?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She tugged at her scarf and pushed her hood away. “What else happened today?”

Rolfe licked his lips and took another swig of his flask, his eyes roaming over the windblown strands of hair that had escaped the neat braid curling over her shoulder. Red. “I had hoped to find someone when I first arrived, but they weren’t here.”

“Someone important?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.” He stood up and gave her a brief nod. “I’ll leave you to your tea, I still need to find a place to turn in before it gets dark. Thank you for the company.”

She looked like she wanted to say something else. “I hope you find who you set out to look for,” she told him instead.

“I hope so too. I’ll be around until then, so maybe I’ll see you again?”

He watched as her eyes widened. “Maybe. Wait, what’s your name?” There was a charming flush that spread across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. “I mean…”

Rolfe winked. “Maybe I’ll tell you when we meet again. It lends a certain air of mystery to me, no?”

She sighed, but this time it was tinged with a playful sort of annoyance instead of the weight of whatever had been burdening her. “It lends you something, though I’m not quite sure mystery is what I would have described it as.”

“And with that, goodnight.” Rolfe made his way to the other side of the bar, stopping long enough to drop a few coins from his pocket into the jar for the barmaid. The blast of cold air hit him hard as he left and he pulled the edges of his cloak closer to his body on his way back up the hill. He’d lied when he told her that he still needed to find a place to stay, Lady Montilyet had secured him a small room within the Chantry. It was cramped and he shared it with a nobleman who was complaining about the conditions, but Rolfe had had worse lodgings during his many travels. Shoving his pack into a makeshift pillow under his neck, he rolled to his back and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to mentally compose a report to his superior as a way to fall asleep.

Alex, he started. Roderick is not to be trusted. He completely neglected to inform us about how pretty the Herald is.

#my writing #idk what i'm doing #or where this is going #but i suddenly have a lot of feelings about them #rolfe trevelyan #rosalind marlowe #canon-compliant AU?#who knows at this point but *yells into the void*#it's rough and full of spelling mistakes but idgaf #i'm writing again #and it feels good to break out from under that block

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ktheist · 6 years

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darling, we’ll be okay

pairings: yoongi x reader word count: 2 360 genre: fluff i guess

concept: do you ever feel, for whatever reason be it as small as having absolutely nothing cute to wear to screwing a job interview, you want to disappear from the world and bury yourself in blankets and netflix and chill? it’s okay to do that. even the avengers need a break after battling an army of alien invasion.

You thought that if you’d stayed put, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito with only a flock of bird’s nest visible on one end, who ever’s knocking on your door would get that you’re not home. Since not many or at all would get why someone wouldn’t get the door if they were, unless they’re in the shower or have the stereos blasting in their rooms until they went deaf by the music.

But your walls are paper-thin and even a sneeze from the farthest room in your apartment could travel through the narrow hallway, into common area and past through the crevice under the door. So no, you don’t have the volume at its highest and you aren’t dancing on the bed with a pair of faded shorts and fader t-shirt of your favorite band you got off their website when you went to see them two years ago and you’re not in the shower thus you won’t be getting out of it anytime soon if they’re planning to wait until you do.

I mean anyone sane enough should leave and come back another time, or give you a call on your cellphone and leave a voice message after the beep once they realize their hand could be falling off their wrist and the door still won’t be open, shouldn’t they?

Amidst the debate between what kind of headstrong person on your door and whether you should take it as a sign from life telling you it’s god-knows-what hour and get your ass up and get some decent meal, AKA the leftovers from the fridge that you knew would come in handy, the incessant knocking stops. Completely.

And since your walls are equivalent to the thickness of a cardboard which, isn’t very thick, you hear the clipped clicking of the lock, the ominous creak that your door tends to make as it reminds you that the hinges need oiling before you get locked out of your own apartment for good. But you’re willing to give it another five years, give and take, before the metal keeping the door and door frame intact completely rusts in its place and requires you or whoever moved in by then to shoulder-shove and foot-on-the-wall yank it to make it open and close.

In a sense, you should be alarmed that someone’s found the spare key you stored under the mat and abandoned all common sense of privacy to get into your apartment to drop off god-knows-what they couldn’t just leave on your doorsteps.

Your intruder struts in with a steady pace that goes against the urgency brought by the drive of coming in uninvited, their footfalls echoing louder in the hallway until they stop by the bed which you are currently rotting away under the layers of blanket.

Against your better judgement and lack of will to face the world and people, you grasp the end of the blanket and yank it down to your nose, just enough to pry one eye and see the figure towering over you with all black and smelling of coffee, something delicious and fresh laundry. The latter, you haven’t had the luxury of donning.

“What time is it?” Even you’re surprised of the toad-like voice that scratched your throat, all the more reason to get off the bed after who knows how long of netflix and chill.

Judging from the lights pouring through the smallest of gaps from the blinds, the sun must be high over your head and shining brightly for a day’s worth of errands and for Yoongi to also be barely awake at this time of the day. Yet here he is, fresher than the morning dew and in your apartment instead of his.

“Three in the afternoon give and take,” he shrugs, “You’re not answering you phone or texts, how’d the interview go?”

He sits himself on the bed, his thigh pressing against your blanketed arm though he can do without the contact since the empty sides of the bed is big enough with you forming a lump on the center. But you’re not one to complain as you find the warmth of another being much more welcoming than what your blanket offers which really is just your body heat accumulated under it.

You look over the handbag on the floor by the door where your phone has been since you got off the plane, dropped carelessly last night in your lack of care for the world and immense urge to detach yourself from it which is saying a lot since you rarely separate from the device, checking your social media accounts every five minutes out of habit and sometimes seeing a new post from one of your friends while other times, the dashboard remaining the same in its content since you last saw it.

“Good,” you take your bottom lip between your teeth in ginger contemplation, staring at Yoongi’s softened features and feeling a familiar knot in your stomach at the recollection of how things went not even 24 hours ago, “not good, not really.”

You pry the blanket waist-level as you drag yourself up, your joints feeling a whole lot less enthusiastic about the movement after having been constantly buried under a pile of blankets for 12 hours.

Yoongi hands you a cup of coffee, the circular emerald logo on it signifying your favorite place to get a quality caffeinated drink which just sends your heart flipping in your chest. He doesn’t just check up on you, he’s making sure you have your morning dose of awakening and judging from the suspicious paper bag next to the cup holder on your nightstand, Yoongi is making sure you’re getting the most important meal of the day as well.

“What’s wrong?”

You take an appreciative gulp of the bittersweet beverage, your arm pressed against his not in a compact, no-space kind of way like when you’re packed in a car with four people instead of three in the backseat but rather a nice, comforting human contact kind of way where you can feel his own muscles relax against yours, shoulders slumped as you both lean against the headboard, staring at the baby blue wall in front of you.

Yoongi’s eyes are barely open like they usually are even though he’s probably already finished his own coffee on the way here. The corners of his mouth are naturally pulled down, giving him the signature blank look he wears most of the time which anyone would have guessed him to be bored, disinterested in fact, despite the serious question.

But having been friends with Yoongi for over three years and noting that he’s more observant than he lets on, you know your answer, however ridiculous it may be, Yoongi will not be one of those people you decided against confiding because you know how they’ll react and brush off your anxiety like dust on a broom.

“I stuttered,” you mumble against the rounded carton rim, hands encasing the cup like the only beacon of strength you have left, “more like choked on my words which is worse honestly and fidgeted in my seat.”

Another sip of the liquid is just an excuse for you to soak in what you’ve said yourself, recalling the moments you wish badly to forget through reruns of Criminal Minds with a bowl of cheetos. Whilst you would have flashbacks at the most random times and wish to hit your head against the coffee table just to tell your memory storage to stop giving you unnecessary remembrance, Luke Alves, for the most part brought you back to the present and how he profiles the unsub.

“And blabbered on and on,” the panelists’ faces are clear in your head as you tell him whilst holding the urge to face-plant into the pillow and scream until your throat hurts and you can project a screech no more, “It was a mess, I’m pretty sure I failed, no, I know I failed.”

“You don’t know for sure,” Yoongi takes the beverage when you hand it over to him to place it back on the nightstand, deciding it’s lost its sugary sweetness to the bitter aftermath of overflowing thoughts,” not until you get a notice whether you got it or not.”

His hand wraps around your now empty hand whilst the other fetches the paper bag and drops it on your lap, thumb pad caressing the back of your hand and sparking electricity with every minute stroke like a match on emery. Your hands fit together perfectly, yours a tad smaller but perfect, you think as you trail the green vein protruding under his skin, disappearing under the sleeve of his cardigan.

“I heard them laughing as I leave the room,” Though uncurling the top of the bag serves to be more of a struggle with one hand, you manage to straighten it out and peek in, the smell of sausages and bacon instantly hitting your nostrils as your stomach all of a sudden decides it’s hungry, “I mean, if I don’t get the job, I at least get to be an amusement, right?”

You bite off a strip of bacon, relishing in the wholeness of an actual food since yesterday’s lunch; last night’s cheetos doesn’t count as a meal and despite the nonchalance you put on, your hand twitches just the slightest bit, gripping Yoongi’s a tad tighter for the briefest moment and you can only hope he doesn’t feel it, “Not the mean kind of laugh, more like, an adult watching a baby’s reaction to broccoli kind of laugh.”

The only sound resonating off the walls is the crippling of the paperbag as you dip your free hand into it, opting for a sausage next as Yoongi leans his head against the board, sight averted to the ceiling instead of the wall; his thumb is still caressing the patch of skin near your knuckle. You’re not sure if he’s doing this mindlessly or if he really knows how much you need it more than you do from the years you’ve spent, mapping each other’s faces, rubbing off one another and learning the little things about the other.

“How are you feeling now?” Judging from the comforter draped over the couch, the bowl of half eaten cheetos and a few kernels that missed your mouth and are now lying on the floor and the laptop on the coffee table next to said bowl, not to mention your excessive lethargy to getting the door, Yoongi’s bound to catch on and ask the million dollar question, in spite of the joke and unaffected tone.

Your biting stops, the food going down forcefully as you lose what’s left of your appetite. For half a second, you’re recalling every minute you spent in the room you were interviewed in from the moment you stepped in to the moment you humiliate yourself with your nonsensical babbling until you're led out.

Yoongi brings you back with the sparks of his touch, not realizing what effect he has on you as he peers down at your reverie-stricken self with those down turned lips which can only mean two things which a) he’s attentively listening and right now it’s the silence that’s speaking so loud and b) he’s debating whether to tell you about the pinch of bacon stuck in your teeth.

You’re assuming it’s the first.

“Not okay,” you release a long sigh and lean your head against the dashboard as well, uncaring if your tightening grip is almost uncomfortable and causes him to want to pull away but you need this, you need him even just for a second to remind you that you’re back home, away from the nerve-wracking interview, done, “I feel like I made a complete fool of myself and all I want is stay in bed all day long, sleep and just forget about everything.”

Yoongi lifts his head and looks at you in the eye, dark brown exploring the depths of your messed up soul and yet instead of feeling as though every layer of your skin is being peeled until you’re reduced to a throbbing piece of organ that’s bare for the world to judge and laugh at, you’re safe from the prying eyes, sarcastic inquiries that only builds up to letting you down and everything that leaves scars and bruises over these hands.

“And that’s okay too to want to want to take a break from life and binge watch crime shows all day so you won’t overthink,” he bops his forehead with yours, the gesture too brief to be believable but the fresh blaze on your cheekbones and ears tell you otherwise as you refrain from covering where he bumps your forehead with your own hand as you play it cool, “so long as you invite me.”

Yoongi already has his head back on the dashboard, shoulders slumped and looking as relax as he can be except he’s not staring into nothing; he’s looking at you and he means every word of it, understood the struggle of waking up to face the world, the frightening notion of facing a society that deems staying in and wanting time for yourself is nothing but laziness.

Your heart fill up with something warm and not so foreign when it comes to Yoongi and his all black wearing self, his unsmiling and then gummy smiling the next minute self, his absolute passion for sleeping in and his subtle ways of making you feel a whole lot better about yourself.

“Well,” you flip your wrist so that your palm is facing upwards and Yoongi’s is facing downwards as your own thumb mimics his, acknowledging the handlock for the first time, “since you brought me food and coffee, consider yourself invited.”

In the quietude of the sword-clashing and order-barking from The Magician, you sit side by side with your arms pressed together the way you would despite the fact that it’s a three person couch, immersed in something that sets your mind at ease and even the remembrance of the interview couldn’t make you to want to change that with a head-bang or a pillow scream.

note: this is something really personal for me, and it’s not as fluff centered as the standard oneshots on here but if you’ve come this far, thank you for reading. or even just checking this out.

#bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #networkbangtan #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi scenario #bts scenario #bts au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi au #bts #bts images #yoongi imagines #bts oneshot #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble

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trippin-over-my-fandoms · 3 years

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White Winter Hymnal

(also on AO3)

— — —

November 1988

He holds the steering wheel with the same white knuckle grip he’s had the last three and a half hours, navigating dark and slippery back roads while the Impala’s windshield wipers fight against the heavy snow. John isn’t sure which he’s more worried about; the case that waits for him in Lovell, the mess he’s left behind in Sioux Falls, or the two little boys asleep in the backseat.

The boys, definitely the boys, he thinks as a shiver runs through his whole body, fingertips feeling like ice when he takes one hand from the wheel to adjust his coat tighter around himself. He doesn’t dare turn around in the seat to check on them, not wanting to risk what could happen if he takes his eyes off the slick road for more than a second. Instead he flicks his gaze to the rearview mirror he angled towards them miles ago for this very reason. Every few seconds he checks the reflection, making sure they’re safe.

Young Dean sits slouched on the bench behind the driver’s side, face pressed against the cold glass of the back window and mouth slack. He’s completely relaxed as he snores ever so slightly, his too big beanie pulled down over his eyes, and his favorite bright red blanket slowly slipping off of his shoulders with each bump in the road. Sam is curled up opposite him, laying against the leather seat in a tight ball, wrapped in at least two blankets on top of his three layers of clothing. Every once and a while his eyes will open sleepily, taking in his surroundings when John hits a particularly deep pothole he can’t see in the snow that wakes Sam up only to drift back into a light sleep.

He should have left them with Bobby, John thinks, it would have been better for them. It was most of the time anyhow. John was a fool but he wasn’t stupid enough to the point he couldn’t recognize that Bobby did a better job of taking care of his children than he could himself. At least they’d be warm there. He was going to leave them, too. Lovell Wyoming wasn’t far from Sioux Falls, he’d have been back for them within the week. They could have spent the storm safely indoors and played in the paper white aftermath all the next morning. But Dean begged to come with him and Sam had nearly started crying when he realized John was going to leave without them again.

:readmore:

John didn’t have it in him to let them go so they’d be truly safe but he didn’t have it in him to give up getting revenge for Mary neither. It was bad enough he’d never sleep soundly again knowing what’s out there, all the things that pose danger to his precious boys.

Damn these empty roads, they really got him in headspaces he didn’t want to be. John checks the mirror again, no change.

The storm, that’s what’s important right now, he reminds himself. Focusing on not crashing the car, struggling between speeding up to get there faster or slowing down to be safer. They were probably miles from town and running out of gas quickly, a reality John had realized when the sun was still up, when they had pulled over to get the spare blankets out of the trunk to keep warm. Having the heat on would burn too much gas. The previous station was too far behind them and the next to far past them. John certainly was a fool when he had thought the tank was full enough this morning. His only option was keep going without the heat in the freezing cold and hoping Lovell wasn’t much further.

John checks the mirror once more, meeting Sam’s gaze in the split second he looks. He’s fully expecting him to go back to sleep like he had the last few times he woke up through the night but he doesn’t. Instead, John hears from behind him, “Daddy,” a soft whimper, “I’m cold.”

“I know buddy,” John sighs, shifting in his seat. Why can’t they be in town already? He needed to get those boys warmed up and put them properly to bed for the night. He curses himself for taking a job so far out, curses himself for giving in and letting them come along, curses the weather, the distance, his foolishness in the early morning when he made the judgement he didn’t need more gas, that they’d be fine, they’d reach Lovell in plenty of time.

The exchange seems to have woken Dean up. John hears movement behind him followed closely by a whispered, “Come ‘ere Sammy,” glancing at the mirror yet again to see Sam shuffling across the seat to press into Dean’s waiting side. John watches Dean fuss with getting their blankets situated, making sure Sam is nice and tucked him before wrapping his arm around him.

It gets quiet again, it’s just the thud of the windshield wipers and the purr of the Impala’s engine, their only ambient noise. John keeps his focus on the road, surely they were getting close, it couldn’t be much farther now. They’d been driving all day, it was only a twelve hour trip, how there hadn’t been any sight of town yet was both bizarre and frustrating. John prayed he hadn’t passed it by somehow.

Yet again he checks the mirror, hoping the boys have fallen back asleep, warmer now that they sat together and dreaming of something far away from all this cold. Except, they haven’t. Both of them watch the snow as it passes by the window, looking utterly miserable huddled together. It breaks his heart enough he begins to slow the car down.

His little vigilante soldier, the ever observant Dean, perks up when he notices the change in speed. “Are we there?” He asks, looking around out the windows as John pulls the car to the side of the road and to a stop. Dean cranes his neck in his search, careful not to disturb Sam. John assumed he was looking for their hotel of the week, thinking they had made it to town.

John shakes his head as he shifts into park then flexes his stiff fingers as he lets go of the steering wheel, “Not quite yet, son,” he tells him, reaching out to the dial on the dash and turning on the heat. It’s only on the lowest setting but even just the little bit that comes out is an incredible relief, “It’s getting late, probably too far to keep going. We’re just gonna sit here for now, alright?” John twists in his seat to watch for Dean’s reaction, making sure he understood. The little boy nods and nestles in closer to his baby brother, who’s already falling back asleep next to him.

Knowing the two of them are at least somewhat content is a rare relief that washes over John like a wave, crashing down and melting the tension he’s been holding the whole drive.

John sits back right in his seat, leaning across the bench to the glove compartment on the passenger side and retrieves his journal from inside. He begins to fill in the remaining details he forgot from the last case and what he already knows about the next one. He didn’t plan on sleeping, he was going to stay up and watch over the boys, make sure that nothing happened to the car and that they didn’t freeze to death in the night. He would have to figure out the gas situation in the morning. Maybe he’d call the hotel to see how far out they were and if they could get some sent to them or at least someone to pick them up. Perhaps even a tow for the Impala, John hates to be without his heavier equipment for jobs just in case they’re harder to handle than he initially thought.

Of course, come morning when he makes whatever phone calls he has to, be it to town or nearby hunters, he’ll let the boys throw snowballs and build snowmen that wave at passing traffic while they waited. For now he lets them rest, lulled into a deep sleep by the hum of the engine as they idled on the side of the road.

#spn #supernatural #John Winchester #sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #small fic #ao3 #fanfic

0 notes

girlsbtrs · 3 years

Text

What are “Industry Plants” & does anyone actually know what the heck they’re talking about?

Written by Lila Danielsen-Wong. Graphic by Paula Nicole.

The internet loves to discover new terms and find every possible way to misuse and mangle them until they don’t actually mean anything. A recent example of this is the term “industry plant.”

A non exhaustive list of ways you will see “industry plant” used on TikTok is as follows:

An artist who has a label

An artist who has a label and acts like they don’t

An artist who got a record deal out of seemingly nowhere

An artist who only got a record deal because of nepotism

An artist who has rich parents

An artist who has industry parents

An artist who pretends to be poor

An artist who pretends to be alternative or indie

An artist who was marketed as alternative or indie and then won major awards

And my personal favorite, an artist who is just kind of kind of annoying

The internet has accused everyone from H.E.R to Billie Eilish to Clairo of being an industry plant, but what are they being accused of? What is the actual definition of an industry plant?

If you define the term based on the term itself it is just an artist who “the industry” (ie, whatever label backing said artist has) is “planting” (or, really pushing on the public regardless of if they are what the public and general music listeners want), and the colloquial use boils down to someone who does not deserve the spotlight they are being given.

Complex claims that there isn’t really a set definition and people’s range of understanding of the term goes from artists who are plucked out of obscurity and given a new sound and aesthetic at the direction of their record label, then jammed down the throats of consumers through avenues like playlists and radio,“ which also happens to be the definition of “artist development” and “getting signed”, and “any musician lucky enough to have a familial connection to the industry or the good fortune of financial resources as a plan”. Medium says that the “common definition” of industry plant is “an artist who has a Major/Indie Label backing their movement but presents themselves as a ‘homegrown start up’ label to create a pseudo organic following”. This is the definition I think I have seen most people in the industry use.

Both of these publications are mostly talking about Rap and/or Hip Hop, and so are most of the top search results if you google “what is an industry plant.” However, even as the term “industry plant” originated in these circles, the rest of the internet got ahold of it and has taken on a life of its own.

A big explosion of the term “Industry plant” has recently come with the band Tramp Stamps. If you’ve managed to avoid the TikTok storm, Tramp Stamps are a punk girl group that grew due to their technicolor punk-lite image. This could probably be a whole article in itself, but to keep it brief, Tramp Stamps released a song called “I’d rather die” and it came across as a little cheesy and try-hard. It felt to the Gen Z TikTok crew that they’d been pandered too, and very poorly at that. The hook of the song “I’d rather die/than hook up with another straight white guy” was quickly recognized as being disingenuous and thus the internet vultures came hard for Tramp Stamps. First of all, all of the band members are white, and one is even married to an aforementioned straight white man. Furthermore, the band’s indie status was called into question when Make Tampons Free, their label that they started, was revealed to be under the company Artists Without a Label, which is owned by a giant music publishing company. Two of the members also have deals with Dr. Luke’s (yeah, that Dr. Luke) Prescription Songs. So they’re technically independent but the layers rubbed many the wrong way. Overall, the TikTok audience just found Tramp Stamps too manufactured, especially for a band branded as punk, and the band paid for it with the combined whirlwind of being cancelled and becoming a viral trend (the trend was to destroy the band in the most savage way possible).

Of course, there are less rabid examples. After H.E.R. won her Oscar there was a flurry on twitter and internet forums about her being an industry plant. Her father is a union ironworker, but the accusers seemed to be going more for the “how dare she be developed as an artist” route. Kanyetothe.com forum user Flyfree (who is currently banned from Kanyetothe.com) says “bitch got co-signed by Bryson Tiller (another industry plant) and Alicia Keys out of nowhere. The industry is not even trying anymore.” “Out of nowhere” is a debatable description, there are videos of H.E.R. (aka Gabi Wilson) performing on The Today Show at age ten. The implication is that if the public doesn’t see an artist struggle to earn their success, it must have been somehow handed to them.

Furthermore, a lot of fabulous and important artists have characteristics of being “industry plants.” Lorde was signed as a preteen to a major New Zealand label, developed as an artist and songwriter by industry professionals, and then marketed straight to Soundcloud with her first EP as an indie teen. Doesn’t that exactly fit the Medium definition of industry plant? But does the fact that she was developed as an artist by a record label negate her talent or influence in the music industry?

Another example of a fabulous artist who fits in a definition of an industry plant is Willow Smith. Willow fits in the “well connected parents” definition of an “Industry plant.” However, would the music industry really be better off without Willow Smith? One could even argue that we’re lucky that she had famous parents so that we are able to know and love her.

One obvious thing that all of these artists have in common is that they are all women. There was a notable murmur on TikTok voicing this observation after Clairo went through her “getting called an industry plant” phase when some people figured out that her father is an executive at her recording studio. This was especially frustrating for music fans seeking sapphic artists, as this happened around the same time that fans got fed up with King Princess after she was revealed to be a Macy’s heiress and not the “resentful financial-aid kid eating Chipotle” as she was described in a New York Times article.

The thing is, it’s hard to find mega success in the music industry without connections, or at least some financial or class advantages. Writing songs may be free, singing may be free, but production equipment is expensive. Wouldn’t it figure that a good amount of successful musicians had access to some kind of music lessons growing up? Do you think that someone whose parents were willing and able to pay their rent as they pursue their dream full time would have an advantage over someone who had to work overtime to support family members. It doesn’t seem outlandish that someone who paid a reputable producer to professionally produce, mix, and master their song might find more success than someone who is working by themselves on the free version of pro tools.

The point is, most very successful musicians fit into some definition of “industry plant:” be it wealthy parents, parents with connections in the entertainment industry, professional artist development, or a carefully curated artist story that makes it sound like they had a little less help than they did. Of course there are exceptions, but the fact of the matter is that it is easier to succeed in music with these extra boosts. However effective the term “industry plant” was when it originated to talk about rap and hip hop artists, it has been warped to include every advantage that people have that help them succeed in music. Perhaps the term “industry plant” has just become a word to voice all frustrations with nepotism and inaccessibility in the music industry. Of course, this doesn't mean that people who are successful because of these advantages aren’t talented or don’t deserve their success. After all, the reason that Willow Smith has a music career and Kim Kardashian (performer of the not-quite hit song ‘Jam’, in case you forgot) doesn’t is that all the money and connections in the world can’t make you a good artist. This just means that people are getting fed up with the fact that success comes easiest to the most talented of the wealthy and well connected, instead of the most talented of the general population. Perhaps the “calling everyone industry plants” craze is really just people trying and failing to find a way to voice this, and to find someone to blame.

Bringing this back to Clairo and the fact that these discussions mostly only erupt around women artists, and in the case of Clairo and King Princess, queer artists. If people are trying to find someone to blame, it is not a surprise that the blame will fall on women, especially black and queer women. This isn’t a judgement on how much Clairo or King Princess deserve or don’t deserve their success, this is just to say that if you were to examine the male artists under this same microscope, the findings of wealth and privilege would be comparable.

Overall, the term “industry plant” is vague and stretched a little thin at best, and means absolutely nothing at worst. Next time you want to criticize an artist, stop first and think about what you are actually trying to say, because just calling them an industry plant doesn’t really get any point across besides that you don’t like them. Do you just think they’re overhyped? Or does it irk you when artists pretend to be more DIY than they are? Are you frustrated with nepotism in the industry in general? Perhaps it’s just endlessly frustrating to see that successful musical artists, even very talented ones, started out with one foot (and at least one parent) in a door that you can’t even seem to find. It’s okay to feel that way, but if that’s what you want to say, just say that. If “the industry” wants to “plant” an artist, they’ll only find success if they have talent, or at least something exciting to offer; that’s why we don’t care that Lorde had label backing and development but it was a total game ender for Tramp Stamps.

Instead of discussing if artists are “industry plants” or not, what if we focus our energy on more productive discourse, like how do we find and support small artists who are from less advantaged backgrounds? Maybe that’ll actually deal with the feelings behind this imprecise industry plant commotion.

Sources:

H.E.R. as a child: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDNL1dG2UMY

The kinda wild King Princess article: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/03/11/magazine/king-princess-profile.html

Clairo and her cancelling: https://www.intersectmagazine.com/post/is-clairo-an-industry-plant

More on Tramp Stamps: https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2021/4/20/22392694/tramp-stamps-industry-plant-band-tiktok-dr-luke

Medium: https://medium.com/@ftp96/what-are-industry-plants-and-are-they-ruining-the-rap-culture-1588ebc2ce6b#:~:text=The%20common%20definition%20of%20an,create%20a%20pseudo%20organic%20following.

Complex: https://www.complex.com/pigeons-and-planes/2020/03/what-is-industry-plant/Kanyetothe.com

H.E.R industry plant discussion board: https://www.kanyetothe.com/threads/is-h-e-r-the-latest-industry-plant.5758778/

#lila danielsen wong

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andyswoodworksblog · 5 years

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5 Ways to Use Your Yoga Practice to Help You Deal With Trauma

Learn more: http://goldenpinesrvresort.com

These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

I travel nearly every weekend and I'm often staying in new places. Sometimes I stay in hotels, but sometimes I stay in private apartments and airbnbs. Last weekend I was staying in an airbnb and, when I was just finishing my evening meditation, I heard a rattling at the door. Whereas normally I would have screamed, my mind was tuned into the meditative state.

Much to my shock, I calmly got up, put on some clothes and walked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a large man who had let himself in with a key to the apartment. Confused to see me there, he informed me that he had booked a stay in the apartment and was given a key. I actually didn't have any answers since my host booked the accommodation for me. We decided to call the airbnb host. As they engaged in conversation, possible scenarios of searching for a hotel room or calling for help in case anything fishy went on flashed through my mind.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Luckily, the airbnb host confirmed my reservation and expressed deep concern that this man had a key and was standing in the doorway asking to come in. The host asked him to give the key to me and leave, and luckily, he did without too much protesting.

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

I stood there alone, in an apartment that wasn't my own, in a city that I didn't know. I didn't realize it at the time, but the incident delivered a shock to my nervous system. After he left I drank some water, read a few lines in a book, sent a few emails, and scrolled through Instagram on my phone.

As I closed my eyes to sleep that night, I was rattled awake by the sound of doors or each time the air-conditioning kicked in. I woke up the next morning without the feeling of restfulness that sleep usually delivers for me.

I went through my morning sadhana of meditation and yoga but I still arrived at the venue to teach my class feeling a bit disturbed. I decided to meditate again during the break between my events. It was only then, close to 24 hours after the event, that I registered the trauma response. My body was shaking and my breathing was short and shallow. I felt like I could hardly breathe. Even when I tried to still my body, my hands would shake. I decided to sit in meditation again for another twenty minutes. I finally tuned into the reality of my nervous system: My body shook, my breath accelerated, and then I cried.

I observed the experience in my body without reacting to it. My body stopped shaking and my breath deepened after the last tears flowed down my cheeks. I felt lighter and more free, like the experience has lifted. That night I slept soundly and deeply. In hindsight, the first thing I should have done after the incident was to meditate. But in the midst of trauma, the most common responses are fight, flight, or freeze.

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who've Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

I credit the meditative mind for giving me the poise not to react immediately when the stranger walked into my airbnb. Without a cultivated attitude of observation and equanimity, I would have operated entirely from a fear response.

I startle easily and I always have. I'm a childhood trauma survivor, so that might have something to do with it. I surprised myself with how calm I was in the moment. But, that doesn't mean that I wasn't deeply impacted by the experience. The whole experience reminded me of the deer-in-head-lights response to danger. I initially froze my own emotional response. But then, having survived, I started to shake in the aftermath until I finally released everything in tears.

It took a good deal of time for me to register that my body and mind was impacted by the experience of a stranger walking in on me. It wasn't until I sat with all the arising sensations that I was able to be free of it. In the space between the incident and the meditation where I cried and released whatever pent up energy was in my body, I had a host of interactions that were less than ideal. I sent emails with unskillful communication and I taught a less-than-ideal class. In other words, I wasn't myself.

It makes reasonable sense that my feeling of safety was challenged after a stranger walked in uninvited. The process of healing and returning the mind to a state of love and trust is a more meandering and personal journey. I am so grateful that I had the tools of yoga and meditation to help me move through my triggers around this experience.

But, it got me thinking: How many of us take the time to process large and small traumatic incidents? It seems more likely that we put up a facade of strength and pretend to be OK when we are not. Or, worse yet, we begin to take action from a place of trauma-before the trauma has been processed within ourselves.

On an average day, there are so many things that could illicit a trauma response. Micro-aggressions expressed in casual racist or sexist comments, mean-spirited sarcasm from friends or family, or the negative self-talk that perpetuates cycles of abuse are some that come to mind.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

I now have tools to guide me through the inner work of my own process as a yogi. But I didn't always have those tools. When I was a little girl and I experienced sexual assault, I didn't have the tools to process what happened. It look me years to realize the extent of the damage done, and the violations that were perpetrated against me.

It's more often the case that we are ill-equipped to handle and process the hurt that we experience. It's less the case that we find the support needed to heal. That is, unless we engage in a devoted spiritual practice and have access to therapists and other healers that can help lead the way.

If you're sensitive like I am, you will probably register varying degrees of trauma every single day of your life. There are tools that will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions. Whether it's a cruel word spoken by an anonymous stranger on the internet or a careless comment by your partner, the tools outlined below will give you relief from what can sometimes be a stressful, traumatizing world.

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

Keep the root of your attention grounded on your breath throughout the day. Notice when your breathing accelerates, tightens, or drastically changes. As soon as you notice a shift has happened, pause whatever you're doing and focus on your breath. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. Count to 10 as you breathe in through your nose and count to ten as you breathe out through your nose. Repeat 10 times.

2. Feel all the Feels

The trauma response of fight, flight, or freeze is a response of disembodiment. There is an uncomfortable feeling in the body and instead of sitting with it, the habituated response is to either fight the world, run from the source of pain, or freeze and numb out. Choosing to feel everything is a courageous and brave choice.

So, get quiet and inquisitive. Turn on your creative mind and be receptive to the sensations of your body. Do not judge what you feel. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. If you can't do that, do a body scan. Start at the top of your head, sweep down towards your toes, and then come back up again. Register all the sensations but refrain from assigning value or judgements to them.

For example, if you notice that your hand is shaking, simply observe that your hand is shaking. If you notice there is a pressure around your shoulders, simply observe that. Do not try and figure out why the sensation is there or make it go away. Just observe. Keep your mind engaged with scanning your body for at least 5 minutes, going up to 20 minutes if you can.

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

Even if you aren't immediately aware of a trauma response to a difficult situation, give yourself at least a few hours to decompress before you take any action or make any big decisions. It's very common to displace anger or fear onto the people closest to you, or to make a bad decision in the period of time after a traumatic event. Pressing pause and practicing patience can be an extremely useful tool in maintaining balance through difficult times.

4. Practice

Sometimes in the midst of traumatic experiences it can be tempting to stay away from your yoga mat. This is exactly the time when you need practice the most. The yoga poses encourage a sense of embodied presence and help you reconnect to all the feelings and sensations in your body. This is exactly what is needed to heal and process trauma. Remember that just 5 minutes of yoga each day counts as consistent practice.

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

After the incident has passed, you will probably need to work through your grievances and judgements about it. In order to be really honest with yourself, try journaling and allowing yourself to rant uncensored about the experience. You may find that you judge yourself for not responding in the way that you would have liked. You may find that you hold a grudge against the perpetrator and have a hard time letting it go.

Once you get honest about your judgements and grievances, you can forgive yourself, everyone, and everything else, too. Even if you find it hard to say, try writing out this sentence: “Even though I didn't respond as I would have liked and I caused pain, I forgive myself. Even though I feel violated by this person, I chose to forgive them. They are also wounded, imperfect beings, and I forgive them.”

About the Author

Kino MacGregor is a Miami native and the founder of Omstars, the world's first yoga TV network. (For a free month, click here. With over 1 million followers on Instagram and over 500,000 subscribers on YouTube and Facebook, Kino's message of spiritual strength reaches people all over the world. Sought after as an expert in yoga worldwide, Kino is an international yoga teacher, inspirational speaker, author of four books, producer of six Ashtanga Yoga DVDs, writer, vlogger, world traveler, and co-founder of Miami Life Center. Learn more at www.kinoyoga.com.

0 notes

bloominglotusyoga · 5 years

Text

5 Ways to Use Your Yoga Practice to Help You Deal With Trauma

Learn more: http://goldenpinesrvresort.com

These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who've Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

2. Feel all the Feels

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

4. Practice

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

About the Author

0 notes

chocolate-brownies · 5 years

Text

5 Ways to Use Your Yoga Practice to Help You Deal With Trauma

5 Ways to Use Your Yoga Practice to Help You Deal With Trauma:

These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

I travel nearly every weekend and I’m often staying in new places. Sometimes I stay in hotels, but sometimes I stay in private apartments and airbnbs. Last weekend I was staying in an airbnb and, when I was just finishing my evening meditation, I heard a rattling at the door. Whereas normally I would have screamed, my mind was tuned into the meditative state.

Much to my shock, I calmly got up, put on some clothes and walked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a large man who had let himself in with a key to the apartment. Confused to see me there, he informed me that he had booked a stay in the apartment and was given a key. I actually didn’t have any answers since my host booked the accommodation for me. We decided to call the airbnb host. As they engaged in conversation, possible scenarios of searching for a hotel room or calling for help in case anything fishy went on flashed through my mind.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

I stood there alone, in an apartment that wasn’t my own, in a city that I didn’t know. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the incident delivered a shock to my nervous system. After he left I drank some water, read a few lines in a book, sent a few emails, and scrolled through Instagram on my phone.

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who’ve Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

I startle easily and I always have. I’m a childhood trauma survivor, so that might have something to do with it. I surprised myself with how calm I was in the moment. But, that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t deeply impacted by the experience. The whole experience reminded me of the deer-in-head-lights response to danger. I initially froze my own emotional response. But then, having survived, I started to shake in the aftermath until I finally released everything in tears.

It took a good deal of time for me to register that my body and mind was impacted by the experience of a stranger walking in on me. It wasn’t until I sat with all the arising sensations that I was able to be free of it. In the space between the incident and the meditation where I cried and released whatever pent up energy was in my body, I had a host of interactions that were less than ideal. I sent emails with unskillful communication and I taught a less-than-ideal class. In other words, I wasn’t myself.

But, it got me thinking: How many of us take the time to process large and small traumatic incidents? It seems more likely that we put up a facade of strength and pretend to be OK when we are not. Or, worse yet, we begin to take action from a place of trauma—before the trauma has been processed within ourselves.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

I now have tools to guide me through the inner work of my own process as a yogi. But I didn’t always have those tools. When I was a little girl and I experienced sexual assault, I didn’t have the tools to process what happened. It look me years to realize the extent of the damage done, and the violations that were perpetrated against me.

It’s more often the case that we are ill-equipped to handle and process the hurt that we experience. It’s less the case that we find the support needed to heal. That is, unless we engage in a devoted spiritual practice and have access to therapists and other healers that can help lead the way.

If you’re sensitive like I am, you will probably register varying degrees of trauma every single day of your life. There are tools that will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions. Whether it’s a cruel word spoken by an anonymous stranger on the internet or a careless comment by your partner, the tools outlined below will give you relief from what can sometimes be a stressful, traumatizing world.

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

Keep the root of your attention grounded on your breath throughout the day. Notice when your breathing accelerates, tightens, or drastically changes. As soon as you notice a shift has happened, pause whatever you’re doing and focus on your breath. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. Count to 10 as you breathe in through your nose and count to ten as you breathe out through your nose. Repeat 10 times.

2. Feel all the Feels

So, get quiet and inquisitive. Turn on your creative mind and be receptive to the sensations of your body. Do not judge what you feel. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. If you can’t do that, do a body scan. Start at the top of your head, sweep down towards your toes, and then come back up again. Register all the sensations but refrain from assigning value or judgements to them.

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

Even if you aren’t immediately aware of a trauma response to a difficult situation, give yourself at least a few hours to decompress before you take any action or make any big decisions. It’s very common to displace anger or fear onto the people closest to you, or to make a bad decision in the period of time after a traumatic event. Pressing pause and practicing patience can be an extremely useful tool in maintaining balance through difficult times.

4. Practice

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

Once you get honest about your judgements and grievances, you can forgive yourself, everyone, and everything else, too. Even if you find it hard to say, try writing out this sentence: “Even though I didn’t respond as I would have liked and I caused pain, I forgive myself. Even though I feel violated by this person, I chose to forgive them. They are also wounded, imperfect beings, and I forgive them.”

About the Author

Kino MacGregor is a Miami native and the founder of Omstars, the world’s first yoga TV network. (For a free month, click here. With over 1 million followers on Instagram and over 500,000 subscribers on YouTube and Facebook, Kino’s message of spiritual strength reaches people all over the world. Sought after as an expert in yoga worldwide, Kino is an international yoga teacher, inspirational speaker, author of four books, producer of six Ashtanga Yoga DVDs, writer, vlogger, world traveler, and co-founder of Miami Life Center. Learn more at www.kinoyoga.com.

0 notes

cedarrrun · 5 years

Link

These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

Much to my shock, I calmly got up, put on some clothes and walked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a large man who had let himself in with a key to the apartment. Confused to see me there, he informed me that he had booked a stay in the apartment and was given a key. I actually didn’t have any answers since my host booked the accommodation for me. We decided to call the airbnb host. As they engaged in conversation, possible scenarios of searching for a hotel room or calling for help in case anything fishy went on flashed through my mind.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who've Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

But, it got me thinking: How many of us take the time to process large and small traumatic incidents? It seems more likely that we put up a facade of strength and pretend to be OK when we are not. Or, worse yet, we begin to take action from a place of trauma—before the trauma has been processed within ourselves.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

Keep the root of your attention grounded on your breath throughout the day. Notice when your breathing accelerates, tightens, or drastically changes. As soon as you notice a shift has happened, pause whatever you’re doing and focus on your breath. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. Count to 10 as you breathe in through your nose and count to ten as you breathe out through your nose. Repeat 10 times.

2. Feel all the Feels

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

4. Practice

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

Once you get honest about your judgements and grievances, you can forgive yourself, everyone, and everything else, too. Even if you find it hard to say, try writing out this sentence: “Even though I didn’t respond as I would have liked and I caused pain, I forgive myself. Even though I feel violated by this person, I chose to forgive them. They are also wounded, imperfect beings, and I forgive them.”

About the Author

#sleep sounds #sleep music #white noise app #nature sounds #relaxing sounds #rain sounds for sleeping

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krisiunicornio · 5 years

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These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

Much to my shock, I calmly got up, put on some clothes and walked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a large man who had let himself in with a key to the apartment. Confused to see me there, he informed me that he had booked a stay in the apartment and was given a key. I actually didn’t have any answers since my host booked the accommodation for me. We decided to call the airbnb host. As they engaged in conversation, possible scenarios of searching for a hotel room or calling for help in case anything fishy went on flashed through my mind.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who've Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

But, it got me thinking: How many of us take the time to process large and small traumatic incidents? It seems more likely that we put up a facade of strength and pretend to be OK when we are not. Or, worse yet, we begin to take action from a place of trauma—before the trauma has been processed within ourselves.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

Keep the root of your attention grounded on your breath throughout the day. Notice when your breathing accelerates, tightens, or drastically changes. As soon as you notice a shift has happened, pause whatever you’re doing and focus on your breath. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. Count to 10 as you breathe in through your nose and count to ten as you breathe out through your nose. Repeat 10 times.

2. Feel all the Feels

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

4. Practice

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

Once you get honest about your judgements and grievances, you can forgive yourself, everyone, and everything else, too. Even if you find it hard to say, try writing out this sentence: “Even though I didn’t respond as I would have liked and I caused pain, I forgive myself. Even though I feel violated by this person, I chose to forgive them. They are also wounded, imperfect beings, and I forgive them.”

About the Author

#sleep sounds #sleep music #white noise app #nature sounds #relaxing sounds #rain sounds for sleeping

0 notes

remedialmassage · 5 years

Text

5 Ways to Use Your Yoga Practice to Help You Deal With Trauma

These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

Much to my shock, I calmly got up, put on some clothes and walked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a large man who had let himself in with a key to the apartment. Confused to see me there, he informed me that he had booked a stay in the apartment and was given a key. I actually didn’t have any answers since my host booked the accommodation for me. We decided to call the airbnb host. As they engaged in conversation, possible scenarios of searching for a hotel room or calling for help in case anything fishy went on flashed through my mind.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who've Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

But, it got me thinking: How many of us take the time to process large and small traumatic incidents? It seems more likely that we put up a facade of strength and pretend to be OK when we are not. Or, worse yet, we begin to take action from a place of trauma—before the trauma has been processed within ourselves.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

Keep the root of your attention grounded on your breath throughout the day. Notice when your breathing accelerates, tightens, or drastically changes. As soon as you notice a shift has happened, pause whatever you’re doing and focus on your breath. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. Count to 10 as you breathe in through your nose and count to ten as you breathe out through your nose. Repeat 10 times.

2. Feel all the Feels

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

4. Practice

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

Once you get honest about your judgements and grievances, you can forgive yourself, everyone, and everything else, too. Even if you find it hard to say, try writing out this sentence: “Even though I didn’t respond as I would have liked and I caused pain, I forgive myself. Even though I feel violated by this person, I chose to forgive them. They are also wounded, imperfect beings, and I forgive them.”

from Yoga Journal https://ift.tt/2RSYKOH

#Yoga Journal

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amyddaniels · 5 years

Text

5 Ways to Use Your Yoga Practice to Help You Deal With Trauma

These five yoga tools and tips will help you retain a balanced mind and process your emotions after a traumatic event.

Much to my shock, I calmly got up, put on some clothes and walked to the door. Standing in the doorway was a large man who had let himself in with a key to the apartment. Confused to see me there, he informed me that he had booked a stay in the apartment and was given a key. I actually didn’t have any answers since my host booked the accommodation for me. We decided to call the airbnb host. As they engaged in conversation, possible scenarios of searching for a hotel room or calling for help in case anything fishy went on flashed through my mind.

See also Let It All Go: 7 Poses to Release Trauma in the Body

Here are mindful ways to work through a traumatic event.

Working Through a Traumatic Event

See also How to Work with Yoga Students Who've Experienced Trauma

How to Use Yoga to Work Through Trauma

There are so many layers to this experience that I want to unpack for you as a lesson for your yoga practice.

But, it got me thinking: How many of us take the time to process large and small traumatic incidents? It seems more likely that we put up a facade of strength and pretend to be OK when we are not. Or, worse yet, we begin to take action from a place of trauma—before the trauma has been processed within ourselves.

See also What All Yoga Teachers Need to Know About Teaching Trauma Survivors

See also 5 Ways to Create a Safe Yoga Space for Trauma Survivors

Try these 5 practices to help you calmly respond to trauma.

5 Yogic Ways to Respond to Trauma

1. Breathe

Keep the root of your attention grounded on your breath throughout the day. Notice when your breathing accelerates, tightens, or drastically changes. As soon as you notice a shift has happened, pause whatever you’re doing and focus on your breath. If possible, come to a comfortable seated position and close your eyes. Count to 10 as you breathe in through your nose and count to ten as you breathe out through your nose. Repeat 10 times.

2. Feel all the Feels

See also Yoga for First Responders: 5 Strategies for Stress + Trauma

3. Pause

4. Practice

See also 5 Trauma-Sensitive Tips for Speaking to Your Yoga Students

5. Forgiveness

Once you get honest about your judgements and grievances, you can forgive yourself, everyone, and everything else, too. Even if you find it hard to say, try writing out this sentence: “Even though I didn’t respond as I would have liked and I caused pain, I forgive myself. Even though I feel violated by this person, I chose to forgive them. They are also wounded, imperfect beings, and I forgive them.”

0 notes