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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]

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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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June 4, 2015

Everything Felt Impossible… Even As I Was Doing It

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I had a *really* hard day on Tuesday, like who-the-hell-am-I/I’ve-never-felt-this-bad-before/something-is-terribly-terribly-wrong hard. I didn’t want to get out of bed, and by that I mean that I almost couldn’t get out of bed. My limbs ached and my heart hurt. All day. I didn’t have many words and was feeling far more deeply than is normal for me.

Deep gratitude for the picnic lunch and bike ride The Beautiful One organized for us gave way to deep feelings of disconnection, grief, and sadness as the day progressed. We went to bed at 10:00 pm which is at least two hours before our normal surrender schedule. I was barely able to walk myself up the stairs and when she offered to go back down to fetch my charger, I let her because I just couldn’t bear to do it myself. I felt like I was moving through wet concrete. Everything seemed impossible even as I was doing it.

If I would have believed what my brain was telling me, I never would have made it out of bed that day. The entire experience was surreal.

The Voices In My Head are telling me that is what depression feels like. When the kids were young, I took meds for depression and anxiety and although I can no longer recall what that version of depression felt like in my body, I can tell you it was nothing like what I experienced Tuesday. To be honest, I don’t know how people survive that feeling for more than a few days.

And now I understand how everything falls apart when this kind of depression hits. Perhaps that was the gift of Tuesday. I’ve recently had more people in my workshops and private sessions who either have spells of depression or love someone who does. Maybe I just needed to experience the impossibility of it for a day, so I could better understand how to support my Unruly Women.

Lately, every single learning opportunity comes back to the same thing: Support

When I was freaking out about the very fancy, very public ceremony around the completion of my year-long Priestess process, I spoke into it with my partner and with my Priestess sisters. They helped me unpack the resistance and release it. It’s support that helps me move through the maddening moments when my business isn’t cultivating enough income to do what I desire for myself and my family. It’s support that makes it possible to heal my body. It’s support that makes it possible to have healthy relationships with the people I love. And Tuesday was survivable because of support.

In fact, late Tuesday night, I laid in bed and wept and told Dyani that I didn’t know what was happening to me but I’d like to give it a little time to resolve itself. I told her that if I wasn’t myself soon that she shouldn’t believe me if I said I didn’t need to go to the doctor. She asked how soon. I thought for a minute and said I thought that Friday (at the latest) seemed reasonable. (Yes, it was that kind of serious.) I asked if she agreed and she thought it seemed fair.

I had her support, wholly and completely in that moment, but we both knew that if it didn’t lift, we would need much more support. We would need to call on other people and their expertise to figure out what was happening and help me heal.

The feeling came on so hard and so fast that I could both notice what was happening in my body and still remember how I’d felt just one day before. I knew that being able to hold space for both of these realities was short lived and someone (not me) had to be willing to take over if this thing was going to stick.

She wrapped herself around me for a long time, patient and loving, holding our shared intention that I’d wake up the next morning feeling like myself. She asked a few questions about what I was experiencing and listened to my confused rambling. She let me be–the sacred perfection of being allowed to just feel what I fucking felt–and gifted me exquisite gift of hope, holding space that whatever had come over me while sleeping the night before would leave me just as easily when I journeyed again.

Tears soaked my pillow, without me having any real understanding of their source, until I fell into the healing darkness of the dream world. Some time around dawn I woke up and took a deep breath to check in. I could feel that it was gone. I felt like me again.

Support makes it possible to face life when life feels too big to face on our own. I deserve support. You deserve support. If you need it, I’m here. It is my job to listen and help heal your stories, to co-create what’s next in your journey, to help you cultivate simplicity and peace in your head, heart, and home. When you can’t figure out how to get there on your own, say yes to support. You’re worth it. Yes, I’m sure.

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