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I Love You and Thank You

It's been three months since Michael died. When The Beautiful One returned from her last visit with him and his devoted life partner Jody, she knew much more intimately the . . . [Read More]

Unruly Books: Is Home Your Happy Place? (June)

We are going to read my book Is Home Your Happy Place? together. I know, I know. How exciting might it be to read a book about clutter? Well, it's not . . . [Read More]

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Unruly Rants

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There was this piece of me—a young, vulnerable, desperate piece of me—who begged for someone to finally just tell me who the hell I was supposed to be, or do, or what my life was supposed to be about. Every time life intensified, waves of hysteria would swell from deep within me, the fear that I’d get it wrong… that I couldn’t trust myself to know what was true for me. I felt terrified that, without external guidance, my life would be wasted.

But then I started to explore what one of my early teachers called “the spirituality of the self”. I studied the way I reacted to the world around me, the way I allowed certain relationships, circumstances, and experiences to affect me. I learned I was powerful, far more powerful than I’d ever imagined, and that I could change reality by changing the way I was showing up in the world. In time, I released what no longer served me and made space for my truth to become my life. The artist, the lover, the priestess, the mother, the healer, the dancer, the writer . . . one discovery at a time, I hosted a reunion of the pieces of my soul.

This transformation was possible because of the supports I cultivated for myself along the way.  My blog is an extension of my journals. I use it to share the lessons I’ve learned, powerful resources, and inspiring stories of my clients’ transformations. Dig in and find the information and inspiration you need today and keep coming back when you need another dose! If you can’t find what you’re looking for, email me your question and I’ll see what I can find for you.

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May 8, 2016

Unruly Women, Let’s Stop Hating Mother’s Day

Aimee Heart via Flickr
Aimee Heart via Flickr

Once a year this country celebrates motherhood with an over-commercialized parade of bullshittery. Lots of the women in my world are triggered by Mother’s Day (read: all the holidays). It’s a perfect storm of unrealistic expectations, being stretched too thin, grieving the loss of those who mothered us well, and the great resurrection of old mom-related heartbreaks. For many, Mother’s Day cultivates a great deal more pain than joy.

If all you can summon Sunday is to hate Mother’s Day, then hate it. Suffer through it. Wallow in the pain that rises. Sometimes that’s what we need to choose for ourselves. And I say, just do it! Hate Mother’s Day. Hate it for whoever it was or is that’s making your heart ache like the six year-old inside you.  Hate it for the one who rejected you, the one who abandoned you, the one who hurt you, and the one who betrayed you. Hate it with your whole heart.

But if you’re done feeling that way,  take back Mother’s Day.

  1. Ignore it. Unplug from the Internet. Pretend it isn’t happening. Just walk away. Skip the pharmacy. And watch your back at the market, too. Most of them have a card isle. It will reek of chaos and desperation.
  2. Plan to date someone special: YOU. Rock all things powerful and feminine. Harness the good momma vibe! Feed yourself like royalty. (Takeout if cooking doesn’t resonate.) Paint your toes. Watch movies. Make art. Do whatever it takes to make Mother’s Day not suck.
  3. Make plans for you and a handful of people with whom you’d be willing to spend a magical day of love. Start by vowing to be unconditionally loving with one another all day. Keep that promise no matter who forgets the wine, burns the bread, or talks with their mouth full. Together, you can break the toxic spell inherited from the mothers before you. Bring one another the sacred tenderness for which you ache.
  4. Wildly celebrate those who brought you here, those who mothered you in youth, and those who loved you well as adults. Neighbors, teachers, the mothers of your childhood friends, aunts, grandmothers, or random strangers that touched your life are worthy of being celebrated on this day. (If the ones who mothered you best were dudes, celebrate them, too!)  Even if they aren’t with you, tell stories about the way they loved you. Cook with their recipes, dance to their favorite song, or write love letters to send (or read aloud, if your loved ones have transitioned).
  5. Commit to 40 days of expressing love to others the ways you received it, or the way you needed to be loved.
  6. Worship the Great Mother Earth if you can’t bear to honor your birth mother on Mother’s Day. Because look down… Mother Earth has been holding you this whole fucking time!
  7. If you don’t have kids, find a single mom and ask permission to help her children celebrate her. (Take tissues. You’ll need them.)
  8. If you have children, why not celebrate with them? Show them how to celebrate you and honor them for making you a mother.
  9. If you need to grieve, grieve hard and be still in all that washes through you. Let it go. Cleanse yourself in the great wave of sacred maternal energy that pulses through you every time you take a breath.

Stop allowing things you have no control over to wreck you.

Beat a drum. Read poetry. Touch the earth. Get some peace and quiet. Dance your ass off.

Do anything you can to release this pain by cultivating love for yourself, giving love to others, and finding something new to honor.

If nothing else, just consider the possibility that there is a powerful rebellion in refusing to treat yourself like the women before you treated you. You simply cannot bear to keep perpetuating this same old tired violence against yourself.

Choose love. Choose you.

As always, if you need support, I’m here.
July 29, 2015

Two Steps To Stop Obsessing About Screwing Up Your Kids

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A woman currently enrolled in my triggers workshop left the following comment and the response from TVIMH rocked my world:

Christy, when you ask about our childhood and what was done that filled those fuel tanks in the first place.. it kinda triggers me, because I’m raising kids, and I’m totally afraid that I’m screwing them up. Like… my gosh, what am I doing to teach them their triggers? Argh.

The message from The Voices In My Head was strong but deeply freeing:

  1. Your kids are going to have issues to work through in their adulthood.
  2. Stop trying to not fuck them up and instead focus on giving them the tools to heal… by doing the healing work yourself and sharing it (boundaries, etc.).

I don’t know anyone who grew up with zero baggage. Maybe it’s that they don’t exist or maybe it’s that there’s just no reason for them to make their way into my garden. Either way, it’s clear that any time, energy, emotion, money, etc. that you invest strategizing or worrying about how to get your children to adulthood unscathed is a sacred resource entirely wasted!

 Your kids deserve to be empowered by their own life journey in all of the ways that you have by doing your work and tending to what you carried into adulthood.

Does that mean you don’t need to do your work? That your aren’t responsible for shattering the cycles so the heartbreak of previous generations won’t vibrate into your children and grandchildren’s lives? Nope, that’s not what I’m saying.

Do you work. Heal your wounds. And teach your children–through your breathtakingly beautiful living example, sharing the tools, and cultivating the support they need from outside your family as needed–to heal their heartbreaks, too.

This is your home. Clean it up. What your kids inherit will certainly need to be cleaned up again. Blessedly, all of your hard work is not lost. You do your part and you’ll gift them a radically different experience than the one you inherited… and the tools to do what they need to do with what remains.

As always, if you need support, I’m here.