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Whence Was Your Shattering Birthed?

1,115 views · Published 11 February 2017 · 19:56 · Indexed 12 November 2026

Channel: Mark Smith Family Tree Life Coaching · 2017 · People & Blogs

Mark E. Smith, MSW is the Founder and Director of Family Tree Life Coaching. He previously worked as a highly respected therapist and author in the Indianapolis area for 32+ years. He now practices as a Life and Relationship Coach. He offers coaching for individuals, couples, families, family businesses, executive leaders, pastors, and therapists. He has world class coaching expertise in Affair Recovery, Relationship Issues, Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome, Sexual Addiction, Abuse, Trauma, Complex PTSD, Anxiety, Mid-Life Issues, Shame and Abandonment Issues. If you need a safe, courageous, cutting, marriage-jolting healer, he is your guy. You can contact Mark Smith at [email protected] and 317-507-8866.

Violent turbulent tornados brought disturbingly regular carnage and ruination upon the little shack I call my life.

I thought I had figured out why. I was spawned by a tsunami of rage, instability, thunderclouds and bat-shit crazy.

I understood the meaning and purpose of love. You marry your unresolved issues. So I enthusiastically wooed annihilation, wreckage, femme fatales, the daughters of the devil himself.

Violent turbulent tornados continued their disturbingly regular carnage and ruination upon the little shack I call my life.

Tornados enveloped me. They weren’t just flung at me by my wicked collection of cluster B’s. Occasionally a dark rumbling hurricane would subvert, slaughter and slay me at work.

Then it hit me. I saw it. Finally. I wasn’t just fearlessly and foolishly playing in the path of murderous tornados; I was actually spawning them from within myself!

My hidden dark side would hurl rage and emotional violence into the universe where it would slowly spiral and spin into a gale force of nature a hundred times stronger, a hate-seeking missile aimed directly at my little shack.

My grandfather tornados of arrogance and unaccountability invited liquidation and bankruptcy. My mother’s duplicity invited the whirlwinds of FBI scrutiny and imprisonment. Spawning self-shattering tornados is in my blood.

Violent turbulent tornados no longer visit my little shack. The winds have been wonderfully calmed. The hurt beneath my infantile rage has finally been cried through and healed. Ironically I needed the wreckage of the storms to heal my wounds. Violent turbulent tornados no longer visit my little shack.

Whence Was Your Shattering Birthed?

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