Dad did the best he could. Now that’s something we say when we know it could have been much better but we are affording some compassion to a situation that downright sucked. Continue reading “Did The Best He Could”
October is a month of transition. Leaves willingly release the security of the branches that have nurtured them. Fully embracing their journey onto the earth – all in the name of something larger, something magnificent…trees storing up power in the form of nutrients in order to support new, healthy life in the spring. Our lives follow a similar pattern. You may blossom and grow then allowing a part of yourself to “die off” making room for the new you, to start the process all over again in the Springtime of your days. Here’s to releasing the dead wood in your life – the creaky, the crotchety, letting it all fall away, into the earth.
“Bottom line is that you cannot heal and resolve your emotional material with your mind. Knowing our issues is not the same as healing our issues. Your emotional material does not evaporate because you watch it. I have known many who could watch and name their patterns and issues—as if they were scientists, researching their own consciousness—but nothing fundamentally changed, because they refused to come back down into their bodies and move their feelings through to transformation. It’s safe up there, above the fray, witnessing the heartache without actually engaging it. Yes, you may be able to get so skilled at a witnessing consciousness that you can overpower your triggers. But that’s not presence. Real presence comes through the open heart. The key to the transformation of challenging patterns and wounds is to heal them from the inside out. Not to analyze them, not to watch them like an astronomer staring at a faraway planet through a telescope, but to jump right into the heart of them, encouraging their expression and release, stitching them into new possibilities with the thread of love. You want to live a holy life? Heal your heart. That’s the best meditation of all.”
(~an excerpt from the best-selling ‘Grounded Spirituality’, available at bookstores and on Amazon (paperback, kindle, audiobook) at
Here I am getting older and wiser, or maybe just wiser. I’m just an average fish, swimming alongside the rest of you. I had heard some things, mostly scary stuff about growing older as a female. There is a plethora of information out there, charts and graphs, statistics and studies – all doing their best to explain exactly wtf goes on before, during and after the looming “Menny-P”. It all looks horrible, nothing any sane individual would sign up for. On top of that crap, there seems to be a shitload of shame surrounding this most transformative time in mid-life. Yes, shame for having an aging body. WTF. So I am beginning to dip my toe into this middle aged black hole…
My body is freaking out just a little. I usually feel pretty agile and thin – even though I’m 20 pounds more than ideal. But these strange sensations tho. Like being pregnant all over again. Yes, this is it. An abdomen that’s bloated for no reason. Less of a “looking” big than a feeling of literally, a stuffed sausage that has overstepped its casing boundary – huge. Waking up distended, going to bed still large. Expanding inside and no matter what you do, the feeling of hugeness it still there with you to lug around on hot June afternoons.
Clothes don’t feel right. Elastic waistbands are blissful. Nothing without give. Nothing constricting. Great theory….but brand new problem – underwear and waistbands roll down when you bend. Well, isn’t that fucking grand? Nakedness works but is frowned upon by the police. So here I am, just feeling enormous. From sternum to pelvic bone, completely disturbed. Uterus, ovaries, cortisol pumping, dancing, singing their ritualistic, ancient songs. Oooo, here comes my period, nope, just kidding. Here it is, nope, note this time either. Cramping, bloating, feeling – pull the covers up to your nose – gross. Abdomen and pelvis working overtime to figure out the hormonal changes and bring me back to homeostasis.
Well, hurry the fuck up. Then there’s the mental fog – sometimes it feels like just too much to figure shit out. Should I wear clothes today? lol I try and combat that and take on the ever popular addiction -coffee- So now I still realize that I can’t/don’t want to figure shit out and I realize that FASTER. Funny, but not terribly helpful. Caffeine welcomes back an old friend, Anxiety. (I refer to it as a friend just so it knows it’s time with me is limited and it’s not staying, shhhhh, pinky swear?)
So I’m bloated, foggy and anxious. DELICIOUSLY attractive no doubt. Anxious because I know I should be doing much more daily. But what was I supposed to be doing and why was it important and why am I thinking about this anyway? lol Round and round I go, my roly-poly, cobwebby, agitated self. It’s got to get better, right? Well, yes, I’m glad you asked. Some days, my hormones take a break and I feel like “me” again and I should celebrate the shit out of those days. Party! My stomach flattens, I’m so sharp mentally and calm, peaceful and grounded. Bliss
And then, Menopause speaks again. This time it’s my thighs and my hips. Exhausted is the word. Absolutely not a drop of stamina for climbing stairs, walking uphill, riding a bike. I’d rather lie in traffic. Seriously, I could just drop to the ground and give up. GIVE UP????? I
was (still am) in good shape, always was. Kick boxing, boot camp, weights, cardio, you name it, I was down. This FATIGUE bullshit is not me, at all. Suddenly I feel antiquated – Good God, not that.
And Christ, is it hot in here? Haha. Seriously tho – the fluctuations, only at night (thank God) are enough to drive you nuts. Blankets on blankets off. Bundled up, then naked. Don’t touch me, then keep me warm. Bloated, sweaty, agitated – How sexy am I? (don’t answer that) Morning arrives to greet your wet, mental fog… who’s popping up out of bed to start the cheerful day? NOT ME. I roll over onto a dry spot on the sheets, back of my hair wet, clothes damp. Oh, that reminds me… who doesn’t want to make this all go away? – don’t, whatever you do, think you’re going to add alcohol to a hot mess such as this -in an attempt to improve the situation. I think not – Exacerbation city!!! It’ll make Menopause symptoms look like a picnic.
I start thinking – This is some dumb shit, really asinine. Everyday, heading into your late 40’s and early 50’s, if you are not “in touch” with your body and listen to what it needs, then Menopause is going to roll you. Ever meet Flat Stanley? you will. Blindsided by a hormonal steamroller is what you’ll be. I’m late to the party with all of this so I’ve had longer than the average Joe, to get my mental shit together so I wouldn’t enter into this milestone already a hot mess. I wonder how many women start with these symptoms and run to the Dr. thinking they’ve got early dementia, chronic fatigue, fibromialgia, heart problems, thyroid issues… seriously!
You may want to punish your body for not functioning at 100%, I get it. Common I suppose. I seriously started to think something was REALLY wrong with me until I was able to put the pieces together. Menopause is different for every woman but there are some common strands. Instead of getting angry with the temporary upheaval – I will treat my body/mind like I would an old friend and show compassion, patience and understanding. Just because I accept the ridiculousness that is upon me does not mean it is here to stay.
So today, I rest when I can and care for myself. Enjoying the nurturing only I can give my changing, maturing body. I push a little with exercise, mostly gardening, loading rocks, digging holes, running the wheelbarrow up my steep embankment, easy shit like this, ha. All the while cognizant of what my body will agree to that day. Resting when I need to, connecting with the earth energy and the support of the heavens. Stopping to observe the changes in my body and not fighting them but accepting the wisdom they bring.
Whatever needs doing these days….I may show up foggy, bloated, sweaty and anxious. And I will not make this a problem. I got this.
When you start to speak the truth
When you find your voice
People will want to silence you, shut your shit down. Continue reading “Power Up”
Just sitting here watching the leaves unfold
Each with a secret plan
at a leaf’s pace
Like a crumpled roadmap Continue reading “Wrinkles of Youth”
Life is great until it sucks
Life sucks until it doesn’t
Nothing is permanent
Except when it is
Then I wish it wasn’t Continue reading “Shadow Rising”
Yesterday was an emotional day for me. The purging hurt so good. The death of an antiquated pattern, shedding my dumb-suit. My beauty radiating blissfully from under the decaying camouflage. Reflecting on how different I am today. It hit me hard. Like my heart was cracking open to love – love for myself. Continue reading “Retiring My Emotional Armor”
i find it to be quite interesting that my throat – the place where Wisdom emanates from my being – is under attack. My personal truth, these days, freely flows out of me without much rehearsal and angst. I used to have to fight to be heard, taken seriously, seen. As a wee little person, I was afraid to speak up or out against anything or anyone, no matter how obvious and insidious the injustice. For fear of being hurt, disowned, different, seen, ignored, shamed, humiliated – fuck, that’s a lot of blockage. It was much easier and safer to remain unseen, unheard, un-human. All tucked away in my larynx. The organ of self expression. The holder of secrets. Of stuffed emotions.
The more baggage/trauma that crams up sideways in our throats, clogs our ability to speak our truth without the fear of being annihilated… this blockage of energy, over time, creates disease. The thyroid slowly malfunctions – giving you, finally, what you want – shutting down the forces that keep you functioning, the proof of our aliveness, our voice. This human communication frequency- stifled. We comply to the old parameters of “allowed” existence until, one fine day, we find our voice and slowly, standing up to the shadows of the past- step into our ROAR.
Yesterday I really used my voice. By “voice” I mean put myself out there for others to see me speaking my truth. I was asked by one of my bosses to lead a group of teens and then a large group of adults, in a guided meditation. Daunting task for sure. I told him, “that hat scares the shit out of me! Let’s do it” LOL. In the next couple of days I actively resisted the urge to REHEARSE endlessly and woke on a few occasions at 4:30 am to record the words that were being channeled (to me) by one of my Spirit Guides.
I felt strong, healthy, connected and NORMAL – doing what I love. No script, just freely flowing words from my higher self and spirit help. And I did this for an audience of 30 teens and then, later that day, 60 adults. It felt amazing. I received some really great feedback. Words cannot accurately capture what I was feeling. Maybe the thawing of what was. The shattering of the old silence replaced by new possibility. I had done this many, many times before but rarely with groups this large AND never with people who didn’t sign up for it.
This morning I woke with the rawest sore throat I’ve had since being a teenager. I expected to see blood when I opened up and looked in the mirror. Nope. As a kid my throat was frequently attacked, what a shock 🙄. For me, today, this is a sign that I’m doing good work. Throat Chakra work that does not yet have a permanent residence in my physical body. My throat may protest for a while by getting sore, voice disappearing, swollen glands, dryness, etc. whatever it can throw at me so it can continue playing small. This is what’s been comfortable.
The “No pain, No gain” and heart might just apply here. Old patterns are disrupted, light shining into the dark places. Old dysfunction will be cleared. Throat issues are a reminder of what was, while creating what will NOW be.
So I’m visiting this mental health facility today, testing a student. Steven walks me to the back of this beautiful place. Hallways look a little like a maze, some high ceilings, most rooms smacking of afterthought and haphazard building design. Continue reading “This School tho”