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”
I miss looking under rocks for cool bugs to put in our bug-house. I miss packing a thermos of hot chocolate, 3 sandwiches and grabbing a loaf of stale bread to spend quality time with the beach seagulls. I miss creating a paper chain – one link for each December day with a fun activity written on each one. I miss nightly foot massages with mint foot creme. I miss getting tricked in the back yard, “Mom, there’s a coyote behind you”. I miss going to the pet store to visit with a dog even though we never brought one home. I miss writing with chalk on the driveway and tracing our bodies. I miss going for a walk in the woods after a snowstorm to see how deep the snow was. Lying in the snow and looking at the blue Winter sky. Snow angels and forts. Coloring the snow with spray bottles of water and food coloring. I miss homemade birthday parties in the yard. Pinatas, tractor rides with b-day friends all peering through binoculars on a pretend safari ride through the backyard woods spying for parrots in the trees. I miss scoring (1-10) the jumps, dives and cannonballs into the pool, over and over. I miss hosting “Mom’s kitchen” – a fictitious restaurant that breaks out in the kitchen. I play hostess, waitress and line cook in a matter of minutes, listing every possible food item in the fridge -appetizer, entrée, sides, dessert, drink, etc. and take their orders on my “order pad”. (a great way to get rid of straggler food in your fridge and make your kids feel special at the same time, win, win)
My boys are no longer little boys and I’m so glad we made these memories. Sometimes we don’t realize how good we had it. What often felt like a pain in the ass or too many things on our plate was plain and simple – the magic of life. Real and raw, unfolding in ways we couldn’t have guessed. Gratitude for lives that saw the value in each other and the deep understanding that lives just under the surface. Gratitude for trying my best as a Mom despite the insane role model I had.
Love your babies. Be ridiculously spontaneous. Kids don’t give a shit about your schedule. Everyday is wide open and fun. Give them your full attention and presence, as much as you can. Expose them to nature (I think the greatest gift of all) – create, build, explore. And for Christ’s sake, put down the stupid phone. This. Pure gold.
Hello my darling ANXIETY.
What is it you want to tell me?
I promise I won’t curse you or otherwise chase you away today.
The fact that you’re here now – a good indication that I’m ready now and finally prepared to hear your message.
You’re here anyway, so I might as well, lend you an ear.
I let you in many years ago, I guess it’s only natural that you’d want to be set free.
You kept me safe and on guard when I needed to be.
You are no longer needed to the extent that you were.
I’ll keep checking in with you over the course of today.
Maybe we can get to know each other better when we’re not triggered.
Maybe we can craft an easy transition to a more peaceful existence.
Maybe I can get to know where you begin and I end.
This is just the beginning of our goodbye.
Maybe I can, ANXIETY, maybe I can.
I observed a 3 year old girl yesterday, being 3. At the beach with her grandparents. It was time to leave and her older sister noticed the beach showers. Continue reading “Simply”
As I sit and reflect on my childhood, I can’t help but wonder how many other children -right this minute- are being raised the same way. Continue reading “2:38 a.m.”
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”
Only write the pretty things. Speak in pretty tones, pretty word choice. Somehow REAL is no longer cool. Intolerable. Honesty must be extinguished, slaughtered alongside her sister, authenticity. Continue reading “Only Pretty Allowed Here”
Prepare for the worst, second guessing what will happen, what others will say/do. When I find myself caught up in the worry about a situation… yes, these old patterns still linger.
Continue reading “Old Patterns Up For Grabs…”
Being with teens sometimes hurts my soul. Today I am upset with my gag order circumstances. Kinda goes against the grain of my -say it- fabric. I suck at keeping my mouth shut Continue reading “Right Church Wrong Pew”