Everyone – this blog is meant to be your space. Expressing your needs and preferences is valued here.
Thank you for providing me with the feedback that not everyone here finds the view of the woods to be relaxing.
So, I’d like to walk you through the guided imagery exercise again, but with a different view, for those who prefer to look at water to relax.
If there’s one thing you’ve learned from your own experience with PTSD, it’s that your brain is pretty good at imagining (that you’re in danger). Well – guided imagery is basically taking the brain’s ability to imagine, and using it to help you relax rather than to rev you up.
First, a word about skills: they do not develop overnight. Tying your shoelaces is a skill; you can do it today because – as a little kid with clumsy fingers – you practiced.
This is no different – getting good at it will take practice. So, if your mind wanders the first time you try it, keep trying. You will get better at it with practice.
You can imagine any kind of restful place. Today we’re going to use a walk along the water.
If these images are not relaxing for you, you can imagine a different place that you find restful.
First, find a quiet place where you can sit for at least 20 minutes without being interrupted.
Imagine that you’re standing on a dock, overlooking the water:
Guided imagery is about imagining the space as vividly as you can — everything you can see, hear, smell, and feel.
Feel the wooden dock under your feet.
Feel the breeze on your skin.
Hear the waves gently lapping at the shore.
Listen to the seagulls.
Look out on the water.
Smell the fresh, clean air.
Take in a slow, big, deep breath… and let it out slowly…
Slowly walk down toward the beach.
Feel the sand under your feet.
Walk along the beach. Take time to explore some driftwood that you come across:
Feel the sand and let the water lap gently at your feet.
Feel the warm sunshine on your face.
Take your time to slowly explore these pictures, to imagine, as vividly as you can, being in that place. Include sights, sounds, smells, and your sense of touch.
Don’t worry if you sometimes zone out or lose track of where you are – that happens, and it’s all good.
You may also find that your arms or legs feel stiff or heavy; you might have small, involuntary muscle movements. You might cough or yawn. Don’t sweat it – that happens too.
When you’re ready, slowly bring yourself back into the present.
I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…
~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.
*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.
**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel welcome to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photos gracing today’s post were taken by Wojtek Rajski, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.