Here and now: Finding True North, Right Where I Am

I am sitting at my very messy dining table. It’s been over a week since I cleaned it off and it is piled high with art supplies and materials for the Being & Becoming Circle (self)care packages.  There is a stack of mail in the corner, a bottle of wine in the center and my son’s bumbo chair (yes, I know) at one end. My kitchen is close to needing to be condemned and I have dinner cooking in the slow cooker. Last night after work (!!!) I cleaned off a small corner of our counter.

I look in to our living room that has legos and wooden blocks all over the floor, right next to the baby’s floor mat (yes, I know). His jumper seat, that was his sister’s such a short time ago, takes up a large amount of space, sitting next to the cradle that he is about to outgrow. The bouncy/vibrating seat thingy is sitting in there too, taking space, but now too small for our boy, ready to be passed on to one of my best friends as she awaits the arrival of her next son. Only one of the chairs is empty to be sat in, the others filled with bags and random stuff that needs to be put away.

I breathe in this chaos, this proof of our lived life. I feel both frustration and calm as I sit here in the midst of it, writing these words, sipping my coffee. I have opened our dining room window and can hear the birds and squirrels, our creek and the quiet movement of our neighbors. As I opened the window I caught a glimpse of the abandoned kiddy pool, water now black and filled with leaves, waiting to be cleaned and put away until next year. I am reminded of the art supplies that are on our lower deck, waiting to come back inside. Reminded of how the days seem to slip by without these seemingly simple tasks being accomplished.

I am sitting with sadness that sprung up from work yesterday, my own sadness about a future that probably will, though may not, come to be. I have allowed some tears to fall for this yet to be seen future and am breathing deeply in the truth that that future is not today, not here yet. I release as much of this sadness as I can right now, being grateful for the life I have, the life my husband and I have created together, the life our beautiful children bring to us every day.

I am sitting with calm and peace and humble gratitude as I think of the women who have come forward already to do this work of being and becoming with me this fall. Some of whom started with me this past spring, others coming forward to start now. All of them trusting me and allowing me to be a part of their journey.

There are days when I can’t believe how blessed I am. Days when I think back to my younger selves and wonder how they got through, how we got to now. I smile at how 15 or 25 or even 35 year old me would have reacted to being told who she would become at almost 43. Would those past mes believe that it would all turn out so lovely? Would they believe I could find this deep peace in my life? Would they shake their heads and laugh or would they breathe a deep sigh of relief?

I wonder about the women I am yet to become. Me at 45, 55, 75, 95. What wisdom will I have earned then? How much deeper will this quiet knowing I am only beginning to feel at almost 43 run? What stories will she share? What kind of grandmother, great-aunt, long-time friend, wife will she be? And more importantly, who do I want her to be right now, even knowing that too will change as the years flow.

Right now, my daughter has come upstairs and is sitting in the chaos of our lived in living room, playing with those legos she had abandoned yesterday; wanting to share space with me and giving me space to write, to express, to observe.

Tonight I will hold space for families who have lost a parent, a spouse. It is work I am called to do and am grateful for. This weekend I will begin holding space for the women who are ready for their being and becoming work and play, keeping that space safe throughout our fall season together. Right now, and always, I am holding space for my family: giving love and gratitude, taking in the beauty and truth and reality of our life together.

And I hold space for myself. Allowing my own sadness to ebb and flow, letting its lesson of gratitude for the now be heard and internalized. Grieving the yesterdays lost and celebrating the tomorrows to come.  Finding my own true north, right where I am.

A close up of a section of my Being & Becoming vision board. Won't you come join us as we each find our own true north right where we are?

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Lessons in the Almost

I have said many times and I am sure will say many more, that my daughter is one of my greatest teachers. My son is proving to be one of them too.

From my daughter I have learned perserverance, rule-breaking (again), unconditional love, that the “authorities” don’t always know what they are talking about, and that deeply feeling one’s emotions–all of them–is the way to find true connection: to one’s self, to those we love, to the world. She has also taught me about creativity and individuality and what it really means to be a rebel.  And her greatest lesson to me: You can never be fully prepared for what life has to offer.

She’s patiently taught me these lessons since she was in utero–when we were told at seven weeks pregnant she probably wouldn’t make it; when my water broke at 34 weeks and we hadn’t yet put together her changing table or even packed our hospital bags. She has been at least five steps ahead of me for the last seven plus years and by knowing her and mothering her I believe I have become a better person, coming closer and closer to the person I am meant to be, called to be.

I expected a similar pregnancy with our son: one filled with scares and unknowns. We (myself, husband and medical team) expected him to arrive early, like his big sister. I spent the first half of my pregnancy holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the bad news and obstacles, and yet they didn’t come.

My son is teaching me patience and to truly embrace each new day as it comes without expecting the worst, allowing space for the best. He has taught me to love my body again, its working parts and non-working parts. And his greatest lesson so far: settling into the becoming, the inbetween, the almost.

I’ve been pregnant more than three weeks longer with him than I have ever been before. I’m learning the nuances of aches and pains and contractions. I’m learning to embrace the uncomfortable: not only literally being uncomfortable because I have a 20 pound bowling ball of fluids and new organs and baby where my stomach and intestines once sat or because my hips and pelvis are spreading in ways I can’t believe are actually natural. No, the real discomfort is in the not knowing, the inability to plan, the wanting him here already and having to release any sense of control I may think I have to make that happen now.

He’s forcing me to rest in this place of almost: Almost a mama of newborn; almost the mama of two; almost the mama of a son; almost a family of four; almost stepping into this next iteration of my, our, life. I don’t know when BabyBoy is going to decide to enter the world and so all plans we make now are consciously tentative, made with the caveat of “unless he decides to make his appearance before then.”

The reality is all our plans are tentative, whether we acknowledge that consciously or not. A million different things can happen to change our course, from the big and dramatic changes like the birth of a child or the death of a loved one, to the more minor, everyday things like coming down with a cold, or a car breaking down. Life happens, and we can plan all we like, and yet the reality is we don’t have control.

So we are all living in this space of almost in many ways, in this space of constantly becoming. We make our plans and have our dreams and go through our lives. And how we deal with the changes in course, I believe, speaks volumes of who we are, who we were and who we will become. Do we resist and fight and demand the illusion of control, or do we step into the moments, embracing the pains and pleasures as they come to us?

I say we all do a bit of both resisting and embracing. I know I do.

When I sense the resistance however, when I become aware that I am fighting something I have no power or control to change, I breathe. I step into my body-centered mindfulness practice. I become curious about why I am so resistant, what is the fear behind the fight, behind the temper-tantrum. (And it’s always a fear that lingers there, trying to keep me safe, trying to keep me from shining.) What am I ready to release, what is the lesson that is sitting here for me to see, to breathe into?

She was becoming herselfOver the last week or so I have had more than a few temper tantrums. I have told BabyBoy he won’t get any birthday parties if he doesn’t make his appearance soon. I have been snappy and mean to my daughter. I have been angry that we aren’t moved into the next step of our lives. We have been ready for weeks now, with hospital bags packed and in the trunk of the car; infant supplies all procured; feelings of readiness and anticipation over-analyzing every twinge from my uterus, every mood shift, every food craving. I have researched every possible way to naturally induce labor and tried many of them.

I have tried to push us forward, when the lesson is to sit back and release and allow life to unfold as it is meant to. To open space for the becoming, to be in the being now: this almost, this “in-between.” I fall back on my breathing and body-focused mindfulness practice and explore my fears and hesitation and embrace this little boy and his lessons for me, allowing more space for the unknown and the almost. And knowing I cannot plan for tomorrow, I allow myself to live in today.

 

Savoring SensualityTo celebrate BabyBoy’s eventual entrance into the world, I have revamped my self-study program Savoring Sensuality and am offering it at a 30%+ discount. For more information and to register, click here

Reflecting on Motherhood

Stealing moment to jot down a few words as the kids are at the table having a snack and discussing what show to watch (seems Spiderman and His Amazing Friends was won). Squealing laughter and high energy is jarring by body, I feel so prickly, as though I want to crawl out of my skin. I practice breathing in and out, finding my own smile and start to revel in their joy.

I notice the nervous energy emanating from my girl. I become curious, wonder about her performance to her friend. Is she trying to cheer her friend? To connect to her? To prove her own worth?

Or is she simply over-tired and over-stimulated and trying to expel the built up energy within herself?

Oh, how much I take on and worry about as a mom. Filled with concern for her joy, her happiness, her sense of self. I lost myself in my worry for her. In my mission to create a life for her that was Continue reading “Reflecting on Motherhood”

Being Sensual

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines sensual as: 1. relating to or consisting in the gratification of the senses or the indulgence of appetite; 2. sensory; 3a. devoted to or preoccupied with the senses or appetites; 3b. voluptuous; 3c. deficient in moral, spiritual, or intellectual interests.

Psychology Today defines sensual as: in essence, how in tune you are with your senses. Do you notice smells, textures, sounds? How sensual you are plays a key role not only in your sex life but in your overall ability to derive pleasure from life as a whole.

Honestly the “official” Merriam-Webster definition pisses me off. It has a puritanical overtone to it that encourages us to be alienated from our bodies, from our senses, from both pleasure and pain. It labels being sensual as an “indulgence” and states right out that it equals being “deficient in moral, spiritual or intellectual interests.” It may as well say, if you are a sensual being (which every human on the planet is) you are a harlot, a whore; you are depraved and non-spiritual. I have a LOT of issue with this. The definition screams of oppression, to me, and well that just doesn’t sit right my body, or mind, or spirit.

Psychology Today (PT) takes out all of the judgement when defining the word sensual and says exactly what it is: being in tune with one’s senses. There is  no puritanical judgement involved and in fact PT states that being in-tune with your senses allows you to “derive pleasure from life as a whole.” And deriving pleasure is a Good Thing!

Because isn’t this what we all want? A pleasurable, joyful life? Isn’t this part of being alive — to feel, to smell, to taste, to hear, to see; to take in and put out beauty? To feel good in our own skin, to be present in the moment, to release shame from our Selves? To tune into the spirituality and connection to the world that being into to our senses allows?

For me, the answer is a resounding YES. This is where my course Savoring Sensuality grew from: a place of connecting to the present moment, to my own body, and finding pleasure and joy, right now. This course is a course in self-care, a course in connection–to our Self, to our world, to the present moment, to those we love. It is a course in slowing down and learning to savor what we have right now. It is about gratitude and seeing the abundance that fills our lives now.

As those of us in the northern hemisphere start to settle into fall, to get cozy, to move inside our homes, our minds, our bodies and spirits as the days become shorter, it is a perfect time to start to deeply tune into our bodies, spirits and selves. We are surrounded by the comforting smells and tastes of fall and winter foods, by the feel of warmth and smell of earthiness of a fire in our fireplace, as we curl up in our cozy sweaters and fleeces and under fluffy warm blankets, our senses are coming alive and it is the perfect opportunity to slow down and savor those perfect moments.

For those in the southern hemisphere, your world is coming alive from a long sleep. As the flowers bloom and days get longer, now is the time to take those moments and savor the beauty, the re-birth and to open yourself to your own re-birthing process by connecting to your body, to nature, to these perfect moments as they unfold.

Any time of year is the perfect time to connect to our selves, to the present moment. At any time we can start the journey of slowing down and savoring these moments of beauty and grace before they pass us by.

I would love for you to join me on this journey and participate in Savoring Sensuality. The special celebration pricing is available until midnight pacific standard time on Wednesday (that Tuesday night/Wednesday morning) and now is the time to take advantage of this deep discount and join the amazing community that is growing around this program. We begin on November 1. For more information and to register click right here.

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