Wednesday, June 24, 2009


Chihuha: (Chee-hoo-ha). Internal monkey minded critic energy that creates drama 24/7.

Chi: Vital energy that is held to animate the body internally; of central importance in some Eastern systems of medical treatment and of exercise or self-defense.

Huha: Reactionary fight or flight response to unreleased past trauma stored in the body; incessant future planning; controlling the ‘now’ with relentless yapping.

Use: I was hoping to enjoy the drive, but my Chihuha jumped into the passenger seat and yapped in my ear the entire way.


I thought I’d be home Wednesday, but gratefully, there was more editing work waiting in Cambria than I planned. Turns out, I drove home through Big Sur on Saturday. I jumped into the Honda with the idea stopping off at Ragged Point, but passed that in favor of my memory of Big Sur twenty years ago. Too bad for me, that the memory included a clear stretch of Highway 1 on a weekday morning. (It also includes being high in the passenger seat while someone else drove.)

I learned that the Coast Gallery no longer serves food. The Coast Gallery also doesn’t let the public use their facilities, never mind that I was the only public and wouldn’t have minded the climb up the stairs. But, strangely, I was too hungry to insist and the shitty sales guy behind the counter didn’t offer. He suggested Deetjan’s Big Sur Restaurant which unfortunately was closed: though the facilities were open.

Stomach growling, I drove past Nepenthe because of the crowds and headed for the memory of the Big Sur River Inn, which was also teeming with tourists. After the next few curves, I pulled over to the side of the mountain. Rather than taking a moment to gaze at the shimmering sea, I tore open the raisins that I had struggled with for most of the drive and plopped the box on my lap. Appetizers. I pulled back onto the highway and sped until the right turn onto Carmel’s Rio Road. There, I gunned it past the Chevron and parked badly into the first space I found.

The eventual beet salad was heavenly.

The hilarity of missing a fabulously leisurely drive was that instead of stopping to eat, I kept looking for a better restaurant. Originally, I wanted to receive the blessing of Highway 1 on a gorgeous day. Turns out, I drove quite a way listening to my Chihuha yap about a better restaurant; instead of listening to my body.

I had forgotten that to Chihuhas, it’s always better over there.

This road trip was several weeks after I created my Inner Family collage (Click to read the 1st in the Inner Family 3-part series from the archives.) When I came home, I was not surprised to see that the Critic and my symbolic reactions dominated a large area of collage. So, I did what any other Visionary would do: I reached up and yanked down the pictures I didn’t want. (Yes you can take images away from and add to your collage!)

Now, my Chihuha calmly sits on the lap of dog whisperer Cesar Milan. Cesar is the symbol of my Inner Protective Parent. If anyone can calm a Chihuha down, it’s Cesar.

May you enjoy long leisurely drives while your Chihuha snores in a far away kennel,


Please click COMMENT at the bottom of this blog and tell me what best describes your Inner Chihuha.

ALSO – Please take time to answer the Poll I reposted on Vision collages – (I had neglected to add a “no” response earlier) – so please vote!


Anne R. Allen said...

Love this. My Chihuha often has my mother's voice, telling me that I'm too old/young, stupid/smart, oversensitive, fat, or whatever to do what I'm planning to do. "Go home and take a nap. You can't take care of yourself," is what the little critter keeps saying, in my mother's over-protective, controlling voice.

Dorothy Ann Segovia said...

Thanks Anne!
Yes, it's very good to recognize the 'voice' as outside of yourself. That way you don't internalize the energy: makes it easier to turn down the volume.

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