Posts

a reclamation

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 I kept hearing the voice inside me. "I just need to be held." "I just need to feel held." An inner calling.  The tears and fears and tears of late. Kept falling. Kept coming. The veils of all different directions were continually lifting. Like it or not, here we come, they say. And from saying yes to that inner calling, an experience of 11 years re-opened. By choice. I just want to feel and be held, said my body. Again and again. Tears floweth.  The repressed grief of what was- Even after healing work, sharing socially acceptable pieces, even after the mystical birth of my youngest... the untapped and unprocessed energetics were there, still.  Stored within.  Stuck and stale. Mostly unknown, but as awareness rises they become attention seeking. "Hear me. See me. Feel me. Heal me." Admittedly I am far away from newborns and babies. Those early days I still sometimes wish for a do-over.  But now, gleaning the lessons within the journey. The steps, the stumb

long time coming perhaps. (written July 9, 2022)

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Honestly, "it" was always on my radar. Ever have that feeling of interest or yearn and you don't really know why? I am notorious for going outside the box so it wouldn't be all that shocking for us to choose to homeschool in 2015. In time of reflection I think back on when Stella was under two. I sat down with a group of interested homeschoolers for a Q and A, but it was still an anomaly then and most definitely not popular or always understood. And still true in some areas today, but growing fast. Not a shock though, I never felt like I could do it. I never felt strong enough in my abilities or knowledge to school my own kids and I don't think John had very much interest. Looking back I would certainly want that support, but thing is it would have gone just fine in the sense that it would be all we ever knew. No regrets though. Our school path has led me to some incredible friendships and pushpins of growth opportunities that would not have presented themselves

Embodying the Season of Giving

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That night I watched the innocence both fade and transmute.  As life goes it didn't go as I expected or dare I say "planned." I knew we were close to the end of an era; that Santa / gifts under the tree gasp era. My secret goal was to make it through this Christmas.  A couple weeks ago we did the rounds of our neighborhood for a "Christmas walk" aka walking around looking at the lights. When we got home, Ana poured herself a glass of oat milk and asked "Does Santa put the gifts under the tree or is it the parents?" Shock and "not now" filled my body as I hung up my hat and coat in the mud room. "What made you think of that?" I asked. "I was just thinking about the milk and it made me think of it." "Hmmmmm" I posed the old "what do you think" back at her feeling like this is not the right time and clinging to my own wants for what Christmas should look like. I wasn't ready to answer, I needed to thi

The gifts.

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One year. There's still a side that does not want to give the past year my time, but truth is it does indeed warrant the reflection. It flew us into chaos and back, upside down and completely steady again. And it continues to do so. It was Thursday the 12th (2020). Everyone was acting quickly, chaotically and given the immensity of the circumstances, I believe irrationally. In the digitized age we live, it's easy to breathe the hype and addiction to the flooding of information and if your inner core is in fact feeling unsafe, judgement, or fear then I can assure you it won't be a completely rational decision. Go ahead and disagree with me, but in my reality and words, it's how the world has been functioning online for about a decade; hear something, internalize, react, repeat... boom boom boom. Thankfully after this year I do believe the amount of people that can sit with something has increased. Are you one of them? I resent the phrase "the day the world stopped.&

A fight or flight diary.

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In the heat of the moment, I admit that while in my body I thought it was the right decision to make. After all in fight or flight, nothing in your body is rational. I have been working on this; it's hard and it's beautiful. It leaves no excuses when things don't feel right on the inside, that's what doing this inner work process is... it's a big step into meeting yourself again and ripping away the layers that don't serve you, wrapping boundaries floor to ceiling and recognizing the things that make your body feel volcanic. Yesterday I walked out of a moving vehicle. More like jumped rather and because I am agile I was able to jog a few steps out of the car, ever so lovingly shut the door and walked to the sidewalk. I was out. My children were in the car, my husband driving. All in disbelief, worry and I'm sure other varying emotions I set off for them (you're welcome). The thought of getting out of the space entered my head and I acted. There was no pr

Gifts of the flu

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There were moments while our bodies felt shut down, Stell and I would look at each other as if it was a secret code. We both knew what we were feeling and it was a commiseration we shared. I would reassure her about the IMPERMANENCE  of the situation. "This won't last forever, you know that right? We will get better!" She nodded. We shared how much it sucked, rested, snuggled and pressed onward. When you are a caregiver there is not out of bounce; they want your lap, they get your lap. I have a WORTHINESS problem. You see, I know I have it so that's something, right?! Accepting help isn't my strongest trait, but I am leaning into that and with the flu it's a matter of necessity. My friend offered to bring my favorite drink from the juicery we frequent. My husband was home and I felt the pangs of guilt that he could get it for me if I really wanted or needed it. I knew she was passing by and she said she was going to stop anyway, but it was initially still

twenty dollar bill

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December the 25th finally was here. She arrives like she always does; hitting us with a set of bricks, only this time a few less bricks. My oldest patiently waited for me to join her downstairs.  She ooo-ed and awe-ed at her pile (yes... pile... insert palm to forehead). We waited patiently until her younger sister woke up. Truthfully though, we had to wake her up because she wasn't 100% well and had forgotten it was Christmas. I was simply happy she slept so late! She did perk up a little bit when we said there are some presents under the tree. They both rejoiced in their own ways over the glory of having gifts. Then it was our turn.  My oldest, Stella, had wrapped our presents a while back and "hid" them in her closet. She was pleased with herself for having a gift for everyone and takes this very seriously. A while back I told her my favorite gift is a love letter and I don't need one thing. I remember her taking this in, even for someone who adores written aff