Stop giving up social media

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We are in the second week of the Reset Wildthing, Reset : A summer awakening.

One of the things that comes up for people is wanting to take social media breaks. I wanted to share with you why I think giving up things for any arbitrary period of time doesn't work and how the resets support the reasons behind why we want to make change and the flow of our life.

We can give up sugar for 30 days and then on day 31 binge of cupcakes because the why was, give up sugar for 30 days.

We can give up social media for 28 days and then binge on Instagram and Facebook in our endless loop just the way we were before Day 1 began because our why was giving up social media for 28 days.

Most of us can give up anything for a period of time. That 'giving up' mindset makes us want the thing more. It almost puts this really pretty spin on, makes it shinier.

Instead of giving something up, the reset idea is about creating a life you want to be inside, that you feel yourself inside of.

If you know that apps on phones are making you stupider (this is researched, go check out Cal Newport) and your phone tells you that you spend 4 hours a day committed to becoming stupider, there is a strong likelihood you'll want to do something about that.

James Clear talks about habit change foundations, among them, who you want to be; I want to be someone who... and then that is what creates the motivation for change.

In iterative living, there are three parts that we play inside of.

She who was.

Who I am now.

My becoming.

The resets are how we use the data from all of these parts and try on who we want to be, inside of our now, using the knowings from who we were to source the changes we want to make. In other words, the parts exist and work together, challenging the classical way we think about time and choice.

If social media is clearly a problem in your work life, relationships, family, stillness and focus and productivity the way into the reset is thinking about what you do want, who you want to be.

For me, I want to be someone who works until Noon each day and then has the rest of the day to focus on my home and my kids and my health. Any work I do after Noon I wanted to be extra, bonus, getting ahead, or the occasional hitting deadlines for something bigger than the normal work flow.

If I spend my morning on social media this will not and does not happen. Social media is part of my business so it is worked into my time, but only after 10am unless my work happens to be done before 10am.

So rather than taking a social media break, the binge and purge cycle, I have created a few reset practices around social media not interrupting my brain during my work cycle which is, minus some commuting a kiddo to school, from 5:15am (soon to be 5:00am) until Noon.

The first reset began months ago by setting my coffee pot up at night as a sort of alarm. I don't want my coffee to burn so I get UP! I set my alarm for 10 minutes after the coffee pot starts brewing.

My big reset for productivity as a work at home mama was to start to batch work. Instead of floating all over the place from emails to social media to my FB groups to newsletter writing to course creation I decided I wanted to be someone who was done working at Noon with the potential to have entire days free from the computer once I got more efficient.

I work in a focused chunk of time in the morning, free of distraction. I don't exercise or meditate in the morning. I write. I take photos for my shop. I create new offerings. Some days I answer emails or work on deleting emails or unsubscribing to emails. I write down ideas. This works for me as someone who is tapped into a clear mind early, unless distracted by social media and my phone.

Later in the day I meditate, I walk, I post to social media, I listen to podcasts, I pay bills, I clean my house, I read, I wash clothes for the shop, I water plants, I prep meals, I garden. Sometimes I get inspired and I keep working, this is extra, bonus, above what needed to get done.

I didn't need to purge social media, I needed to build practices in my life that don't include the distraction of my phone. Sometimes I actually lose my phone during the day because it isn't part of my flow in the morning.

My biggest why behind everything; I want to live inside of kindness. When I'm feeling like shit about what I'm not doing because I'm lost in someone else's life on social media that isn't kind.

When I show up for myself and my business and my family, the time I spend on social media can reflect the kindness I want to feel. I can leave comments and blessings lifting others up. I can catch up on people who bring me inspiration and help me feel like a beautiful human on this planet.

The reset cycle we use in my circles is six days of a chosen practice and then on the seventh day we integrate and look at how that worked for us. This is the flow of Sabbath, the seventh day of rest. Using this seventh day to integrate the changes we made in our week, looking at who we are now.

Then we choose. And begin again. We keep going, we add on, we adjust, we rewire.

I love who I become inside of kindness. I love building a life that supports kindness practices.

The other day we were in New Hampshire on the lake and we don't have internet there and roaming doesn't work. The kids have just accepted this way of being there without much push back because I think their little brains are so happy to not have the constant pressure of the feedback loop of their phones.

We were standing on the deck watching an empty hole in the grass, waiting to see if a chipmunk would run out of it. We were quiet. We were in solitude together.

I said, "You know, this was what my life as a child was like. Staring at holes in the ground, sitting and wondering out windows onto the grass."

They laughed.

"We just want you to know this, to have moments where your life is filled with doing absolutely nothing or what you want to be working towards and it feeling so good," I told them.

We all stood there longer than it felt made sense to stare at a hole. The chipmunk never came out. When we got home we expected them to all run and jump on wifi.

The fourteen year old went out and played basketball. He wants to make the High School team. He wants to be someone who kicks ass in basketball.

After wearing himself out he put on a podcast and ate our entire pantry.

There are over 70 women participating in this round of the Reset Wildthing, Reset and I am in awe watching them navigate the she who was, who they are now and their becomings.

Every week (day, moment) we have an opportunity to begin the next week (day, moment) inside of new iterations of self and practices.

Instead of giving up social media if there are parts that you adore or use for work or to be inside of community, figure out who you want to become.

What is important to you?

In each day what do you want?

To feel yourself in your life, what practices do you need?

What parts of self can you try on, play inside of, experiment with?

A big shout of to the women of the reset; I see you. Keep going.

To the women in My Great Big Fantastical Life, who get resets and prompts each week for a year; I adore you. Keep going.

To all of you; I appreciate you. Thank you for being here.

A page a day and ordinary things

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Each week I add one or two resets to piggyback the resets that I've chosen to live inside, to create this great big fantastical life, the life I can now feel myself inside of. I wanted to share what I'm working with this week.

My first is a book called The Book of Life : Daily Meditations, which I've owned for years and have tried to work my way into but couldn't attach to. Probably because it was long before I was living a life inside of resets that brought me to this awakening of presence. I literally followed through on pretty much nothing. 

This week I'm going in, I'm giving myself six days to see if it adds to my healing practices and feeling of presence and calm. I went back and looked at May 31st and the synchronicity was amazing.

He talked about habits and the resisting of habits, I wrote more about it here.

My second reset that I'll be piggybacking on is my practice of sharing simple and ordinary things that bring more beauty to our lives. I have wanted to start this on Instagram and perhaps pull them onto my blog, and I've come up with every reason to not do it.

I'm giving myself six days to create a ritual around this sharing then I'll evaluate if I want to keep going. I am going to plan what hashtag I'll use today.

I've started hearing from those who joined the reset and some of their resets are around relationship to sugar, the struggle in releasing, connecting to the sacred and devotion, being seen and the one we are all in on together, hydration in place of alcohol (which to me is the Grace of our Being, allowing ourselves to feel without the numbing of a substance).

My day today started with an omelette (which is one of the simple ordinary things I want to share), a reading from the Book of Life, getting my phone's hotspot to give me wifi to work, drinking water out of my Kombucha glass jar with unicorns on it, listening to Dave build our new garden beds while he listens to his fantasy book, floating ten feet off the ground looking at the picture of our *fingers crossed and don't tell my kids* new puppy who I want to name Delilah Moon, preparing for my Zoom call with my Business Circle tomorrow and checking in obsessively with the private Instagram account for the Reset Wildthing, Reset.

We need this. We've got this. Together. I am already so inspired by us.

Today is our preparation day, tomorrow we step into the magic of trusting ourselves. If I seem a little bit over the moon, stars and sun about this reset, it is because I am.

This practice saves my life. This is how I wake up and go to sleep each day. I choose myself in kindness, which then becomes how I show up in the world, in kindness.

And. I adore you. Thank you for being on the other side of these words.

Trade me your wasted time for some shape shifting magic

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Trade me your wasted time and I'll show you how to create shape-shifting magic in your life.

Here's how we'll do the trade.

Go to your phone and find the thing where it tells you how much time you've spent on it. Subtract out the time that you consider a waste from what you consider productive time.

Take that number and trade me, for just six days, and in that wasted time we'll create magic. In fact, you may end up with time left.

Magic is active, choice, powerfully directed thoughts, the sacred infused with the practical.

If you say you don't have time to create a more amazing life, I ask you to look your wasted time, and I'll show you how to walk every day, how to go to sleep with the dishes clean, how to get dressed in your Spiritstyle, how to bend time to have more of it, how to make systems around food or any of the things that you've been wanting to do but say you don't have time or energy for.

My promise to you is that there is time and the energy comes from the practices.

The energy is sourced from the resets.

We begin in the morning and there is a private Instagram account (which will be linked in the morning email) where we will gather and claim our resets and check in with each other. I'll be in the Stories talking and telling stories to you.

Six days for your wasted time. I'm going to teach you to weave magic into your life, all I ask is for your wasted time.

My real talk about six days of no alcohol

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The first thing I ask you to do in this reset is to switch alcohol with water or fizzy water drinks or, like I did, herbal tea. For six days.

On the seventh day, we will look at how you are/feel/want. That seventh day is the heart of the reset. It is where the data you collect gives you choice.

Choice is your superpower. 
 

I am imagining a few responses to the alcohol release reset.

  1. I don't drink. Easy. What else have you got for me?

  2. I have been wanting some space from alcohol, this is perfect for me right now to have the support of others doing this with me. 

  3. Um, nope.

Now group 3, you are my people. I was in the um, nope category until last year. I loved to drink, I thought I was quite good at it.

Releasing alcohol for six days will be harder for this group, it will test you. You will think about it and want it, your body will begin a slow detox or you just won't do this reset because,um, nope.

What happens when you give yourself six days free from being altered from a substance that doesn't allow you to be the fullest expression of who you are is magical. And scary. It is freedom and prison. It is expansion and contraction somehow swirling together.

I honestly thought releasing alcohol was the stupidest idea until one day it felt like the only way forward. If you are in this third group, I want you to know I'll be there, with you. Pouring more tea than seems reasonable and hoarding boxes of Lacroix in my van so my kids can't drink it all. 

I went from thinking not drinking was stupid to sourcing a sacred, open, free, expansive, beautiful, glowing life. I had no idea what living unaltered could be like. I had no idea what I was capable of, who I could truly become without it.

I had no idea how much it was taking from me, from my ability to love and connect and be inside of my life.

I am so wildly passionate about living this way that it is the foundation of this reset. For six days I want you to know that you can, that you deserve, that you are that worthy.

Reset Wildthing, Reset : a summer awakening

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What if I could read this to you? Click here

What if you could step into the first day of summer with a full body and spirit awakening?

What if healing was something you woke up inside of rather than waiting for something to go wrong?

What if you could feel yourself inside of your life, connected and turned on?

What if energy was your renewable resource based on your daily choices?

What if weekly resets with the adoration of other women lifting you could guide you into summer feeling joy, calm and presence?

What if you could expand time, lead with compassion and deepen your conversations with the Universe?

What if your future self could ask these practices of you and promise you in return, three resets (weeks) later, your Wildthing spirit return?

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I used to feel highly disappointed in myself, on repeat. I wanted to read more, I didn’t. I would dream of daily walks in the woods and then sit on my ass thinking about them some more. I wished I had more energy then would drink a bottle of wine. I had writing and learning dreams and then the phone would be in my hand and I would scroll, scroll, scroll and look at all the people who instantly would feed into my feelings of less than.

On the outside I looked highly productive, I was making good money, kids were seemingly fine, I had manifested a partner. But I was broken inside. I was disconnected from my integrity. I could feel myself falling further and further away from my life. I was functioning to make it all work, but I couldn’t feel myself inside of it.

Sometimes I would take vitamins. Every so often I’d buy a book, start it, leave it, no book would be finished. I kept thinking about those woods I could walk in. I was having great sex, but so much of it was make up sex after fighting; I was dreaming about the kind of sex that was like restorative yoga. Every time I sipped red wine my face would break out in these hot red hives and my fingers would swell, so I switched to white.

I have a rebel tendency which means I’m likely to say no before yes even if I want to and that anyone else telling me what to do triggers me into not wanting to. Here is the catch, even with myself. I will instantly push against anything I want to do. This can make change challenging, except for this one little trick I call, trying her on.

It might be my years of theatre or my enneagram four fantasy world, trying things on, playing inside of who I want to become, allows me to flow into change without the rebel yell of NO. My becoming is my guide as I try her on.

The other thing that was making change difficult was the idea of such long term commitments, 21 days, 28 days, 30 days; I couldn’t wrap my brain around that, I was quitting before I began.

So I made a little game that became known as resets.

Six days of trying something on, full on, all in. Then on the seventh day, rest and integration and the data collecting of how I felt, what worked, what I loved.

If I felt amazing and could feel myself more inside of my life, I kept the reset going for another six days while adding in a new reset on top of it.

I knew that I would only need to make space for change for six days then I would be invited back into choice.

I’ve been doing weekly resets for a year now and I feel awake, alive, connected, worthy, adored, valued, energized. I’ve shifted time, adding hours to my day even though it seems like I’ve taken on doing more. I am led by the ritual of my practices and the celebrations of simplicity.

All the things I’ve thought about doing for years, I now do, and they have transformed how I fit into my life.

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Since starting my resets I…

am alcohol, caffeine, grain (while I manage panic attacks) and dairy free.

ended my salt addiction and have lowered my blood pressure.

walk in the woods daily, even in the pouring rain.

take vitamins, krill oil, cbd, and other supplements that support me.

have finished, finished, three books and started reading fiction again.

don’t go to sleep with dishes in the sink.

practice connected, calm, ritualized sex with my partner which helps both of us sleep better.

am learning about and diffuse essential oils in the house to support myself and my kids.

spend time in quiet/meditation or with a guided meditation.

have started cold water swims on weekends to reset my nervous system. (When I don’t want to my kids scream, “Mom, reset reset!!!”)

make magnesium foot baths with herbs and oils to calm my body.

infuse my days with Spiritstyle for who I am trying to embody, often athletic Spiritstyle now.

am studying and learning tarot, doing daily reads for myself as part of my integrity practice.

am starting to wake up at 5:30am to work for an hour before my kids get up, giving me more time in my day, even for naps.

spend time barefoot in the grass, earthing (sometimes just when I go get the mail).

can feel myself in my life.

(Keep in mind, this is my list, the things that I value and crave and need. Your list will be yours.)

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How our time together will work

On each of the three Saturday’s, starting June 1st, I will guide you into the three resets that I believe are the heartbeat of a summer awakening.

The first, swap alcohol for water or fizzy water drinks.

The second, walk in nature.

The third, sit in quiet.

For each of these weeks I’ll ask you to design a reset around something you are desiring, needing inside of your life. If you already do the three I offer you, you can choose another one. You will piggy back the two resets together. At the end of each week, we’ll look at how you feel, what is new, if you’d like to continue with that reset, how it might need to shift. Then we will layer on.

The practice of a reset is based on simplicity and peacefulness. It is gentle. It is healing. It is beauty.

What this is not

This is not a fixed time challenge. This isn’t a 21 day exercise in what you can avoid and swim inside of lack and then on day 22 go binge and feel like shit again.

This is about waking up each day inside of healing. This is about who you want to become and then stepping into a six day reset to try her on. This is about adding practices to your life that give you more time, space, joy, healing, love, calm, presence, awe.

The idea is that at the end of only three weeks you will have a foundation for a life that you can FEEL, truly be inside of actively, presently, with a connection to Spirit/Universe/God that flows through you.

Each week you are accumulating practices that you’ll crave more of each week. If you don’t, you release it and try something else.

How I will support you

Each Saturday I’ll send out a Reset Wildthing, Reset email to guide you inside the practice of resets and share some stories and ideas.

There will be a private Instagram account set up just for us. I’ll talk to you there in the Stories and offer you support and guidance and I’ll be posting and asking questions on the feed. This is where we will connect. You absolutely can do this without the Instagram, it is another layer in connection if you feel drawn to that.

I want this to be simple so that you will do it, not just think about it.

I want to offer you practices that will bring you into a gorgeous summer awakening on June 21st and continue to support you after our time together.

I believe a gorgeous life has faith, grace, action, beauty, choices of integrity, devotion and kindness.

The resets will take you there.

Resets work because they aren’t about letting go of an identity, they are working towards a becoming of your choosing. When I was struggling with releasing alcohol it was the separation of the identity of being the host, the fun one at the party, the way I used it to play the part of an extroverted socially ‘on’ person. I was fun. Mostly, I wasn’t happy. I drank to find happiness.

Spoiler. Didn’t work.

Once I started looking at who I wanted to become I looked at people who had released alcohol for a gorgeous life and I knew that is what I wanted. Their eyes were shining and clear, they were focused on body healing, they were productive. And. They were feeling their feelings, being in time with what was real. It wasn’t covered up with alcohol.

This is who I wanted to be. Free of something that altered me out of integrity and kindness. Free of waking up feeling like shit. Free of not living fully into the most beautiful life possible.

Once I spent a few cycles of resets without alcohol I realized I was becoming her. I was choosing it.

Time expands. Healing becomes a daily exploration. Your nervous system will reset.

On the seventh days, we will ask ourselves if the reset gave to our life, lifted us up or if it depleted us, pulled from us.

We will look at ways to shift things around if something didn’t work quite as we hoped. When I first started getting up at 5:30am I initially didn’t have success following through because I didn’t know how to use the time. Once I realized I work incredibly well first thing in the morning with a cup of coffee and like to exercise and meditate later in the day, my wake ups have been awesome.

I’ve gained hours in my day for quiet and stillness and walking and reading. I don’t touch my phone, other than listening to stories in the van, until after 10am whereas in the past an hour of my day could have gone to phone scrolling before 10am.

I have been wanting to hold this reset for weeks, the missing piece for me was ritualizing and batching my work so I could add in. Once I found my flow using resets, ease carried me.

Each week I begin excited with what I could learn and layer in and let become part of my ritual of self and identity.

I want this for you. Clear eyes, excess energy, nature as your temple, Spirit whispering back to your prayers.

The resets are a devotional to who you are, who you are becoming.

The resets will change your way of being inside of your life.

The resets give you a way to feel yourself in your life.


How drinking moderately changed my life.

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(The cards in the photo are from a participant in My Great Big Fantastical Life, an exercise we are doing making what we call, Grace of My Being cards. The Supra Oracle deck is one of my teaching tools in the circle and the pink salt is for sorting chaotic energy.)

.......
Starting with, I have no idea what moderate drinking even is. There are guidelines, there are formulas, but whatever, to me it was drinking less. A shit ton less. Like three drinks in three months, not a daily drink moderation.

Recently I was asked why I didn't just land there, if I could drink less, why didn't I choose that? Why did I stop drinking?

I assumed that would be an easy answer but I've found myself thinking about the question for weeks.

It feels more like not drinking found me, invited me inside of it.

There was a insane amount of emotional space taken up when moderately drinking; should I drink at that party, if I'm not drinking will I fit in, one drink leading to the next day feeling to have another, not wanting to seem 'other' in social situations.

And the biggest one, I was no longer allowing myself to manage my anxiety through drinking, but keeping the door open for moderation was causing me deep anxiety.

I wanted to stop drinking but didn't want to BE a person who had stopped drinking. That was not the identity I had ever lived towards.

I realized those three drinks I had in those three months weren't about me. They were about wanting to fit in, conform, please others. I knew inside that my time with alcohol (as I always say, for today) was over. For today, I choose not to drink. The times I chose to were not for myself. 

Once you receive the invitation to release alcohol and get a glimpse of your own integrity it is really hard to take those sips without it consuming your brain space.

Thinking about if I would drink or not, or if it was moderate enough, was exhausting. 

More than anything, living into my integrity has been iterative living kicking my ass on most days. I can't play from integrity if I drink. I don't feel kindness when I drink.

Those were my deal breakers. It has taken this entire year to feel like I know what the ground is since I stopped drinking. 

You redefine everything, your identity, the way people respond to you, your position on alcohol, the way you look at people in a group who drink and slowly become other.

That is brutal.

There is a softening, it does come, and it feels in so many ways like starting over. A return to a young self that you get to raise through a smarter, grown up body.

Dave and I used to drink almost every night of the week and Bloody Mary on Saturdays. Now we giggle more, fight less, talk deeper and longer, eat cookies with milk, read more books, love sweeter, walk in the woods every day together at the time when we would have been pouring a glass of wine, begin Saturday's with pancakes and hot chocolate and honor each other in our choices.

I'm not writing this so I can convince anyone to stop drinking.

I honestly am not invested in your drinking.

I am invested in my integrity and living into what that means, one part is being honest about my journey with alcohol and giving space to hold my point of view and share stories just as I would any other part of my healing work.

Because this decision has redefined everything for me. I can't leave it out of the story.

And for you: to take care of you, if my stories about drinking/not drinking will trigger you or confront you in a way that isn't kind to yourself, please support yourself and stop reading.

Integrity and kindness. I'm in it.

I'm working on dreaming up some new offerings and ways of being of service. I imagine I'll start to attract more women who are sober curious or doing the dance of moderation that eats up their brain space, just as I was last year.

I want to infuse Spiritstyle and the parts of self and how integrity and kindness are woven into those in our adventures into iterative living.

I'm looking at healing as a daily practice and how integrity is leading my moves, holding space for me to fully feel myself in my life.

I'm writing weekly for My Great Big Fantastical Life and Business Circles and we are doing chakra work and stepping into archetypes and taking self portraits and playing with our sacred adornments.

And the sneaky whisper of living sober for almost a year and being blown away by how connected and alive I feel is becoming louder.

I'm not a brand.

I am a woman who a decade ago couldn't feel herself in her life and knew that she would do anything to find herself again. I went to school. I started a business. I left a marriage. I lost relationships. I made some shitty choices. I had ridiculous amounts of fun. I fell in love. I grew my family. And then I got sober (which is still HARD work) and started living through kindness.

I feel new. I can feel myself in my life. That's what I'll share with you here. My stories.

I'm also obsessed with the idea of sharing simple useful things.

Like did you know that snake plants thrive in neglect? Anyone who thinks they can't grow plants, go grab yourself a couple of these gorgeous plants and watch your neglect of them lead them to glory.

Or how an investment in a few specific throw pillows can transform your living room.

And how marinating red onions in lime juice is basic magic.

I may start a little Instagram thing around useful ideas. I'm going to go search hashtags.

My family is going to NH this weekend for a weekend of no Wifi and I'm going to have the kids plan and cook all the dinners. I'm going to swim twice a day while we are there and it is going to be freezing and I actually feel excited about that!!

I was there last weekend alone cleaning out the house and I found a half bottle of tequila, my favorite, my go-to drink. I poured it down the sink, while holding my nose and then I let the hot water run down over it and I said, thank you.

Thank you.
Thank you kindness.
Thank you integrity.
Thank you beautiful life.
Thank you.
I never wanted to be here, and this is the most joyfilled and peaceful I've ever been. Thank you.

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.

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Did you know I have a shop on Instagram?

This gold and brown dress in size XL is available! Hop over here to browse. New listings are on Thursdays at Noon Eastern. Next week some beautiful Summer dresses, kimonos, Spring into Summer shirts and more. All sizes are featured though it will vary from week to week as thrifting is a lovely exercise in chance!

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What I did wrong.

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My tangle.

I tried to be 'better.'

On the outside, life is gorgeous. I can see the gorgeous life. I have even been waking up to catch the sunset and meditate.

On the inside, things are misaligned and the voices are cranking out words of suffering. There is a feeling of being irrelevant which hurts me because it is of my own creation.

The tangle takes shape. Twists. 

I live and teach and breath inside of iterative living. I know how to make change. I know how to become. I have learned over years of discovery how to teach iterative living.

Mistake number one is...making a change towards becoming so that you can be better, fixed.

I fell into the trap of the idea that something was wrong with me, so I needed to change it.

I know, 'being better' seems harmless, possibly even good (?) but here it was implying that something was wrong, broken, needed fixing.

Iterative living operates on the idea that you are stepping into something that already is. You embody this feeling/self fully by using change as the tool. Simply, your past self decides to start making the bed for your future self who is (already) adored. Or. Your past self walks past the mess of the bed and steps over laundry piles making a further mess, for your future self, who is, unworthy.

If you step into it as wrong, unworthy, less than, then that is what you get.

Imagine getting dressed in the morning under a feeling of being unworthy and choosing to stay in pajamas and then calling in 'sick' to work which feels awful in your bones versus embodying adoration and taking a shower, putting on an outfit that is a bit out of your comfort zone but allows you to feel like a rising star and walking into the office, red lips sparkling (or whatever it is).

So here I was. stepping into phase two of operation sobriety as though I was broken, uptight, too controlling, not free flowing enough. (Which by the way, is old old shit.)

Then when it felt like it back fired, this brilliant attempt of mine to be better, I didn't hold space for myself to feel like anything had gone wrong. I fought so hard against feelings of regret that I ended up all tangled.

Things that are important to me didn't get done because I was trying to be in a flow. Picture, long white skirt flowing while wearing a linen apron stirring cookie batter while conducting an orchestra and writing a book.

I am highly functional and one of the ways I do that is to make the cookies three days before the orchestra tunes up. This way I can usually crank out a meatloaf and some chicken soup too. Planning ahead. No white skirt.

And a little bit uptight.

Steps that I take to get from one place to another were tucked to the side so I could be less uptight.

I ended up falling behind, struggling to get anything done and feeling like a complete failure who refused to feel like a failure because she was trying so hard to go with the F-ing flow.

Then after days and days of wrestling with this part of me that didn't feel like me, I got the download. I call it God voice, I hear the words in my head.

The voice said, "You aren't trying to be better, you are trying to live inside the truth of how you are feeling. Remember the prayer you made to yourself?"

God voice is brilliant. 100% accuracy so far.

The tangle was I had taken my next iteration of becoming which was all around being inside the feelings of my truth and twisted it to look like certain things.

Somehow I got from truth of my feelings to convincing myself I was an uptight asshole.

The first thing I did was to give myself days of acknowledging what I felt I did wrong, where I felt off, stretched, wrong, pulled, silenced, overwhelmed, fearful.

The thoughts were loving. 

Hey, that didn't feel good and actually you weren't in your truth in that moment. Oh that is when you wished you had used your voice. OK, now I see where you over scheduled and over committed and what that left you with.

This let me synch back up with what was important to me, not what was important to being broken and needing to be somehow better.

I love looking at the data. I love seeing how experiences and plans look in reality. I love scratching stuff that doesn't work off the list or figuring out how to solve it.

I've been talking on Instagram and in My Great Big Fantastical Life Circleabout how I want to live inside of healing, wake up to it, make it my daily practice. I don't want to wait for something to break so I can go in and make it 'better.'

I am seeing this is connected to living in the truth of my feelings. Things break within me when I am pretending, pleasing and silencing. Then I get to be in full distraction of my feelings and fix.

In my untangling I am asking myself questions so I can source the truth of my feelings. I can get so lost in the stories of the feelings that I can't locate reality. Fantasy games of enneagram four. Anxiety as narrator. 

One of those questions is, what felt wrong? Owning that to me is owning that I want to live in adoration and trust of myself. 

Then I can get into the kitchen and make the damn cookies. White flowing skirt optional.

Add lipstick.

Let me make you a sandwich while I yell in my head.

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I'll set the scene.

I've got one ten year old kid (who has been asking me to help him study for days and I keep putting it off) finally sitting down with a printable blank map of the Northeast US, which are not easy to find online if you are me.

I have another thirteen year old kid wrapped in a trauma blanket (weighted blanket) on the sun porch that has no sun, with a humidifier blowing the lamest amount of air, under strict orders to not leave the room.

The first kid who is as highly sensitive as his mama is talking about the lines to write the state names on. They are dotted. Not solid. And too short.

The second kid, who is incredibly sick and hasn't slept in days, snuck his phone into his deprivation chamber of wishful thinking humidity.

I sit down in my meditation chair, the one I like to feel all my calmness in and I am hearing about dotted lines not being long enough and potential meltdown voice is happening and I yell, "Just draw lines down on the bottom. This isn't hard to figure out. Why is this such a thing????" (Do you document the things you are completely ashamed of saying to your kids?)

Kid with the cough comes out and says he still can't sleep. Now, I had done something I don't normally do. I had given him some tylenol PM because he just needed to rest to heal. And it turns out nothing that makes other people sleepy makes him sleepy.

I say words that are like icing on my shit-cake, "Why are you on your phone? You are failing sleeping."

Incase you are skimming, I say to my sick, sick kid, "You are failing sleeping." Yes.

At this point kiddo with the map is crying because this map is seriously making him lose it. Or is it his ridiculously ranting mama?

I just stop.

"You guys, I am so sorry. I can't believe I just lost it on both of you. I think I am exhausted and overwhelmed and I just took it out on you. I am so sorry."

Turns out they still love me.

It gets better. The next day.

.......

The next day.

Up till 2am trying to get the coughing kid to sleep. Back up at 6am to get kids ready for school.

Drive one kid to school half hour away, get home over an hour later and realize it is trash day and the trash is not out.

Take the trash out which involves 5 trips up and down the stairs to the garage, because I have to hold the railing for my knee, so I can't carry much at a time.

I hear Dave, my love, getting in the shower.

In my head a voice starts to yell.

WHAT ELSE DOES EVERYONE EXPECT ME TO DO? MUST BE NICE TO SLEEP IN. LET ME JUST EMPTY THE DISHWASHER WHILE I'M AT IT.

As my cute little voice is yelling inside this head of mine, my sick kiddo says, "Mom, let me do that."

I tell him there is no way I'm letting him do it but how sweet he was for asking. Never fear, still irrational.

Dave comes down and tells me his alarm never went off because the sound machine we are using to drown out the cough noise drained his battery. He asks me what he can do to support me, if I need a hug, how he can help.

I can tell you I do not want a hug.

I can feel myself teetering between the yelling voice that really wants to be let out of her cage and the prayer of kindness that has been my constant this last year.

There is this moment of feeling stuck. Last year I would have let her out of the cage and Dave would have probably provoked her out, that little game of ours. We did not play in kindness.

My newest thing, a question I've been asking is, Where do I fit in this?

In these in-between moments when I want to fall apart, be resentful, unleash irrational anger because I'm overstimulated or exhausted, in these moments, the question.

Where do I fit in this?

I was battling the wildly irrational voice so hard and I was starting to soften. Where do I fit in this?

Answers started to download.

I was incredibly proud of how I was able to wake up without an alarm and go down and get my coffee going so I had two minutes before the other kids woke up. I was incredibly proud and out of my mind happy that I could walk down the stairs with the recycling, a couple weeks ago, my knee would not have allowed it. Also, in two years I've had to take the recycling out like twice. 

I still couldn't find anything nice to say to Dave. I couldn't hug him. I was in it. Deep. Hard. Silent. He was happy and smiling and I was...not.

The kindness Spirit whispered, hey, since you can't say anything nice right now and you realize you just need time to get over it, why don't you do something to show your love.

I went in the kitchen and made Dave a sandwich for lunch. Food is my love language. Dave said later that he was completely blown away that I did that. I told him I was still a while away from saying anything nice, but it was so important to me that he feel it.

Now is the part in the story telling where I start to wonder how I am going to wrap this all up in a nice circular story telling moment AND tell you about my new circle without trying to be pushy or promotey. 

It usually comes with writing a line, erasing it. Writing another, erasing it. Wondering how I can call myself a writer when I make up words and have zero idea how to use punctuation.

I am listening to video game playing in the other room. The coughs are getting slower. I just made a foot bath for my littlest who needed some mama attention. I am writing from my calm chair.

Last year when I decided to try leading a circle for a year, and I knew it would all be created from kindness, what I didn't know is that it was going to lead us all into a conversation of worth.

Kindness was the guide to worthiness. I could not access my shame, my grief, my anger, my WORTH until my curiosity with kindness changed my life. Kindness wants you to heal, to feel, to tell the truth and to be in direct communication with your worth.

Last year I wouldn't have been able to even source a question like, Where do I fit in this? I wouldn't have been able to quickly step back and say I am sorry. I wouldn't have been able to make that damn sandwich, possibly for days, the cycle of anger falling in on itself.

Where do I fit in this?

I've been asking myself this question in relation to how I wanted to hold space for and lead another circle. I loved the year time frame. I missed teaching business. I wanted to lower the price point. I dealt with major doubts last year as I was creating. This year, I am feeling so worthy of showing up, because I can feel myself in my life in a way I never have.

Where do I fit in this? 

What I am calling in this year to hold the circle, to become the guide? 

A few moments have pieced themselves together to become the blueprint for what will become.

The first was from Kristen Bell who talked about God as Ground of Being. You can google the phrase, I did. Mostly I just fell in love with that phrase, Ground of Being. We are beginning in the Root Chakra and this felt like a giant yes!!!!

Then the word integrity has been pulling at me, this might be something that comes up for people once they stop drinking and cease the run on making really truly honestly bad decisions. Often.

I spent some time feeling out if integrity could fit into ground of my being and it was like a puzzle piece that you are sure should fit but doesn't.

(Honestly, I think every single day I couldn't write a book because how would I ever find the words. I'm getting to the nice wrap up, I promise. Almost there.)

Every time I've opened a book or put on a podcast or just scrolled the entire internet to avoid the sadness of sick kids there was a word that popped up. And then this amazing interview where I heard Nadia Bolz-Weber talk about grace. How grace has nothing to do with making our worthiness, it just is. 

And pop. There it was.

Grace of my being.

This year where I fit in to hold this space, to create this container, to make a big ask of you to trust me to do that-this year is the grace of my being. Grace feels as much of a craving as kindness became. 

When I said sorry.
When I let the voice carry on inside of my head.
When I didn't try to make everything OK and pretend.
When I sat down in my calm chair.
When I made the sandwich.
When I wrote this instead of having a pity party.

Grace of my being. 

I believe it is going to be an amazing year together.

If you'd like to learn more, this is where I'll say, thank you, thank you, truly thank you, you can visit this link below.

My Great Big Fantastical Life 

Hi, and an invitation to gather our moments together.

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Hi.

In the exhaustion of some flu that captured me, I wanted to come say, just, hi. And brevity isn't really my jam (Twitter continues to confuse me) so I will continue on, but mostly, hi.

Hi, away from social media. Hi, in the moments before dinner is on the table. Hi, when you are cuddled up on the couch under a heavy blanket.

A hi, and, how about a story?

A while back I unfollowed a few people on Instagram. Not because they were doing anything wrong, because when they showed up something not-so-good would happen inside of me.

I had to examine if it was jealousy or a mirror triggering or what, because I thought they were lovely humans. I just got this response every time they would show up in my feed. I didn't feel good when I saw them.

Because there was so much 'similarity' in being moms and having businesses and being seen and growing a larger presence I had to unpack it slowly, I knew my reaction was taking me somewhere.

I asked myself a whole lotta questions. One specific thing that came up was in response to someone who said, "This course always sells out." It just hit me with pricklies all over my body.

Starting with jealousy, I asked myself if I felt jealous that someone could make that statement. Of course. Sure.

Then I looked at it a little more. One of the things Dave and I have spent the last few years on is not speaking in absolutes. The words always and never are part of our boundaries in heated conversations, we hold firm on redirecting the person who uses them in battle.

OK, so the word always triggered me, felt a little wounding.

But I still hadn't hit what was going on. Until I did. And it was so uncomfortable and sad and all the things.

I sent my friends a text and asked. 

The reaction I'm having to these particular people is something some people feel towards me, isn't it?

Their lovingly beautiful response, absolutely.

So I went into that. I lived in it for weeks. I went beyond the first layer of boundary work, which is that it isn't my job (or the job of these other women) to fix that or make it better for anyone else.

I went deeper into it as a true, honest feeling that isn't pleasant. I managed to stay out of my head that wanted to sort it and file it and research it and make it ok.

I stayed in it. I felt the grief inside of it.

Any instinct to want to return to the salvation of it not being my responsibility to take care of other's feelings was acknowledged and then I asked it to step aside so I could keep on feeling the extreme discomfort of what was coming up.

Being in a feeling, in a moment of our life that is so TRUE is inherently more beautiful than resisting it AND because it is often a feeling we'd rather numb, it is so convenient to choose instead, not to feel it.

I chose to feel. I made it through. 

Emerging from that discomfort was such a new iteration of myself that I put on a sweater I used to live in and it no longer felt good on my body. The whole day I was tugging and pulling and thinking about taking it off.

The truth is, I care so deeply, fully, intensely about how others feel.

My business is built on feelings.

In the rise of social media and the constant feedback of people liking you or not liking you because of a decision to hit a couple of tiny buttons on their phones I think there is this part of us that tries to numb out how much it hurts to not be liked by claiming to have good boundaries and not be co-dependant with our followers. 

But what if we go deeper? 

No one has to align with me on how I choose to show up and be seen, but I have needed to get honest with myself around it. My fear runs deep and feels primal, especially as this is how I support myself and my family.

In therapy I told my healer how angry I was that my love story with Dave wasn't the magical one I was writing, that I had convinced myself it was.

She asked me who I was angry at. 

I know, you know the answer. And, hi.

Hi.

I was angry at myself.

Once I let myself feel these things and feel what was underneath them, Spirit and I have been on a wild ride of feelings, of gathering moments, of making space, of listening.

The sweater now belongs to someone who has become exactly who needs to be wearing it.

Today, in between sick kids and calls from insurance companies and making lasagna for my sort-of-mother-in-I-am-not-married-in-the-traditional-sense-law who broke four ribs, I will put something on that feels like me now.

And here is where I'll invite you to something that will become as we do. A thing that doesn't actually exist until we bring it to life. A something that came from everything before and waits in this quiet wondering of who will breathe their spirit into it.

This is the place I'll offer something that I need, that I believe in, that dreams of becoming as we gather our moments together and feel ourselves in our lives.

The little link to the invitation I'll throw in here is the result of that sweater no longer feeling right on my body and yet being amazing on someone else's. 

It will begin with a story. About meatballs. (I'll remind you here, brevity is not my thing.)

What it mostly wants to tell you, is that there is a place, a space, where your stories weave into mine into hers into theirs and our moments gather into something that I believe is great big, and, fantastical.

Our lives.

So, hi. Hi.

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you. The invitation is below. xo

My Great Big Fantastical Life 

I deleted my About page.

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I’ll be happy to read this to you…

All January I sat back and watched a whole lotta awesome people sell their services. Yearly circles, programs, memberships, courses. Incredibly brilliant things, many of them from friends, people I LOVE.

My yearly circle starts in April, that is my sacred month of magic, that New Moon is where all of it begins for me. Last year I saw all the launches happening and I couldn't hold myself down. I felt scared that I was missing out, I went full on into lack. I pushed it into becoming before all the bits were settled into place. I was racing imaginary beings towards something I had been visioning to birth for so long.

I don't look back and think, oh damn, I should have waited. I do look back and think, OK, that isn't going to be my story now.

So the feelings came. I watched all the freaking gorgeous offerings pop into my little corner of social media and my inbox.

Instead of freaking out I said my walking prayer.

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.

I thanked the energy I was receiving for bringing me to question if I was doing everything wrong. (Note, not right, wrong!)

I was deeply confronted and I stood somewhat naked in that confrontation.

For a while I fell into a wild stage of comparison and jealousy. We don't talk about that enough do we? I would love to sit over here pretending to be super evolved and tell you that it doesn't happen to me. This is an area of big ole' healing work for me now.

Maybe my evolution in this moment is being able to say, OMG there are days when I just can't. I can't look at anyone else's accomplishments. I can't look at a photo of a couple being so sweet together when Dave and I are fighting about nothing and it is the biggest deal in the whole world. I can't read one more positive freaking meme telling me how do something better/different/more positively.

Sometimes I have to unfollow incredibly positive people on Instagram because it overflows my capacity to feel my own life.

I just can't some days.

And those days are my biggest vulnerability and what I would love to hide from.

I can't.

I deleted my About page the other day. Because I can't. I can't spend another year of my life worrying about the copy on that page. 

All of the people I've spent time learning from, studying, all of the advise on how to make the About page leverage you or sell you.

I can't.

So it is gone.

Good business strategy? Probably not, but I've never been sold on a formula. I am a rebel tendency enneagram four who just can't right now.

I've had this knee injury and new insurance and no Dr. available within a six month time frame and I've been watching my body hold weight and I don't feel like me and there is no good way for me to move or integrate energy right now.

I want to WALK again. I want to hike with my kids.

We finally worked out with the insurance that the best way to handle this is to go to the ER. I can't go to a specialist until I see a Dr. and no Dr. can see me until July. I had a mini melt down and then decided that while it seems like the silliest thing to clog up an ER, this is what will happen.

Dave told me how proud he is of me for handling an entire month of these phone calls and dead ends and frustrations and that felt really really good. I was craving that, someone just saying, I'm proud of you. I don't need the praise as a general rule, I just need to process, but sometimes being seen for the things that are super hard for you when you are in the muck is a beautiful thing.

These are the places I fall apart, come unhinged. Making appointments and phone calls and getting taxes ready and adulting and waiting to launch my heart and worrying about stupid About pages and feeling jealous and like I've disappeared from my little corner of the world and become irrelevant. 

I just want to go in the kitchen and make broth and beans and mix herbs into pots and toast turmeric and infuse something and fully live in my Kitchen Witch knowing of rose powders and cacao.

When I conjure in the kitchen I am confronted with something else. A knowing. A deep primal ancestral knowing that I am one who blesses AND is blessed.

I am so OK without an About page. I am so OK in my vulnerabilities. I am so OK sometimes not being OK on social media.

I am transformed in the simple ritualizing of slicing ginger and adding it to a broth of cinnamon and cardamom and pepper and honey and coconut milk to calm my nervous system. 

I take my mug over to my little meditation/card corner. Many mornings I pull a card after asking one question. I add a gem essence to my potion. The steam rises and I feel back into my body. I can. I can be here now. I can follow the card's wisdom. I can sip. I can breathe.

The truth I know is that I can't do things any other way than what my spirit contract says. If I'm feeling jealous it means I have not been living in my full expression of self. If I am trying to do something just for money or fame my body will break. If I am letting others persuade me against my soul's song I will get angry.

My work for this last decade has been a combination of pure devotional spirit downloads of inspiration and deep dark wounded struggle. Every decision that happens within me is now aligned with the space between.

The peace, compassion and air of the between. There is an inordinate amount of waiting here. I have this little rule for myself that I don't go on my phone in any waiting room or line situation. Because I don't want to be looking down, I want to be there, to be noticing, to be present. I refuse to become a zombie with a little box in her hand.

This waiting is like that. To be bored enough to know myself. To live not in the pain of suffering or the high of the creation as the only forces all the time. To be invited into those spaces for times and then as Dave and I heard from a line in The Last Kingdom that we loved, "You may leave me now, my dear."

Please come in love, you are safe.

Now you may leave me, my dear.

This is brand new and my nervous system is loving it. I haven't had a panic attack. I can feel myself in my life.

I can feel myself in my life.

The space between extremes.

Sort of like I used to live in my house either completely chaotic with piles and messes and dishes or totally rearranged and photo ready but not functioning to stay clean. Now I have these little things I do, and have invited the kids to learn to do, that keep a home of peace; something I truly never knew as sustainable.

Or the space between intoxicated and sobriety. My love and I went to a Superbowl party and neither of us are drinking and I could feel us there, in that space between. Like we were almost giddy with our choice to not drink (this is not my common feeling of not drinking), to feel good the next day, to not worry about who would drive and how much they could drink, to be inside of something brand new and beautiful, together. We weren't in sobriety or intoxicated, we were inside of the space of a simple decision made within us.

To feel ourselves in our life. To live inside of our great big fantastical lives which is magical and mystical and often ineffable. 

Please come in love, you are safe.

Now you may leave me, my dear.


The circle I have been inside of with the most amazing women on the planet was first born of the work I knew I needed. I had to do. It was knowing that what had been could no longer be supported going forth and every week I challenged myself into the actionable places where change lives. 

Going in I thought I carried zero shame and I set out my empty baskets to receive truth and they were filled. With shame, with stories, with fear and with love, with kindness, with devotion.

The work we've done together enchants me, I am under the spell of these women who choose vulnerability, being seen and to look at their suffering as an act of compassion. I am awed.

You always see testimonials from the clients about their teacher but I am their testimonial. Women lifting women is the most powerful force I have ever witnessed. They have grown me, challenged me, formed me.

I am emerging cellularly new. I can feel myself in my life. And I am so proud of my great big fantastical life because I can see it and feel it and I am not alone inside of it.

People are always saying to me, "Hannah, you must get so lonely. How do you possibly stay alone all day?"

First I remind them I have five kids and they are my ground and my joy and so much freaking fun. Secondly, I am not alone. Ever. Not one single moment. My women, my circle, we are there night and day, the women in England reach out to us in the middle of their night because we will be awake when they are suffering.

Even the women who are doing the circle quietly on their own often email me and share what is in their heart and the ones who say nothing I still feel them, they are right beside me. Often I'll go pull up everyone's picture in our member list and just say thank you.

I have more trust and faith in my work then anything I've ever done. I was born for this. I was born to circle women. When we trust the thing that is our deepest knowing, our intuition, our ease: that is when beauty becomes.

My suffering has continued to be my work in relationship, in love, and the other day I told my healer that I had begun to feel my worth. I had prayed for that feeling. For that truth. And there it was. I am integrating the wild woman who stands receiving this knowing.

So in this space between, in this waiting, I have received. Here is where I will sit in-between the suffering and chaos and the downloads of creation and flow.

I have evidence to prove to me that both will return, both will continue to walk with me through life.

Please come in love, you are safe.

Now you may leave me, my dear.


(As always, I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.)
 

On not using something old.

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I've got a few pots I'm stirring.

A huge house cleanse and rearranging for a gathering I'm hoping to host in April for my circle.

When we saw this house I knew it would hold space for gatherings and then I found myself in deep pockets of shame and grief and smallness and I just needed to be there. In that.

It was a hermit like need. A cocoon. It is wild when you feel yourself coming out of those times. Like a winter frost melting by warm sun, like an invitation.

I'm working on the next iteration of my circle, I've got a six week resetgoing, my adorable shop is almost ready for in person visits, I'm looking at hosting a workshop series for the Spring so we can gather belly to belly and I've been rolling the idea of finally doing a Podcast (that one is still rolling).

Oh, and five kids, three of whom entertain us each weekend in about seven combined hours of basketball games and five hours of practice. I'm a total fan girl to my kids, I'll log those hours. One just started LaCrosse and all of them have the nasty winter cold thing wandering around New England.

Throw in the week of my bleed and I tried to convince myself I was overwhelmed.

I went looking for something I'd already written to repurpose. I read some cool things but the problem is, I'm not her anymore. I adore her. But to say hi to you today with someone I used to be feels like the opposite of what I've been working on these last few months which is...being fully present to NOW.

I'm not overwhelmed. Everything I have going on is chosen or manageable. Sick kids are cranky but they are also snuggly and a great excuse for extra pots of tea and layers of blankets. My knee injury sucks AND it has given me so much time to write again.

If I fall into focusing on ALL there is to do, sure that has potential overwhelm. Or if I don't section off my day into little parts and sections of flow, I get lost in it.

If I know where I am in my cycle, the sleepiness, hunger and tenderness are an of course feeling.

There is a huge bowl of bone broth I made earlier in the week when I was filled with energy that I have been using each day for bowls of miso soups with noodles or brown rice, beans, veggies, herbs, whatever I've got around.

I've got that feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin and also a flow to the day. A little guide to take me from NOW to the next place in my moments.

The story of overwhelm is not true. Searching for old words when words are not at lack is part of that story.

I've been asking myself one question when I need to ground in.

What is true now?

Like right now I need to pee, my lower back is done sitting in this chair, I'd love a cup of tea and the quiet of the house is mine for this moment.

It is mine for this moment. 

What is true for you now? What is yours for this one moment?

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.

One More Layer

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(I wanted to share week one of the reset so you could see what it is all about! Just finding the reset, you can join here if you like!)

I was watching the movie Life Itself, because apparently I needed to cry, and in one of the fantasy narrator scenes the little girl says, "I want to live a great big fantastical life."

I grabbed my phone and sent myself a text.

I want to live a great big fantastical life.

I want to be someone who lives a great big fantastical life.

Zero idea what that means, but it feels soul-yummy when I say it.

The last few years I've had a story that I want everything smaller. Smaller business. Smaller visibility online. Smaller.

Somehow in that story of smaller I started to feel unhinged, uncertain and well, you probably can guess this, small.

I wanted to shrink and become unseen. It wasn't until I noticed my discomfort in the smallness that I could feel my Wildthing stirring around inside, wondering where she fit in, who was watching out for her in all the smallness.

The reset idea started with a woman in my circles talking about how she decided to take a picture of herself in the same place every day so she could show herself that from one day to the next, nothing had really changed about her actually body, it was the way she felt about herself.

I wanted to be someone who looked in the mirror and felt amazing about herself. So for a week I decided to play with this. In full on Spiritstyle. Also, I wanted to see how I could show up for myself more.

Reset = Show up for me.

Then I decided to piggyback another ritual on it, which was to do the dishes at night.

Now here is where we can talk about two important parts of this reset.

The first is why?

Like a bigger why than, because I want to have a clean kitchen. Why do you want to be a person who does dishes at night? What do you perceive a person who does dishes at night is? What is it about them that pulls you in?

The second thing is, how will you step into this challenge?

How many obstacles are in your way? Why might this be a walk into sabotage? James Clear talks about the first two minutes of any habit being the most important part. If we are set up for those two minutes to happen, the rest just becomes.

When I wanted to be someone who washed dishes at night, I wanted to be someone who went to bed in peace. There was a calm that infused my home when the kitchen was clean and the counters were ready for the morning.

When I wanted to be someone who looked in the mirror and felt amazing each day, I wanted to be someone who had a daily practice of tending herself. I work from home and can stay small and unseen and undressed or I can take time each day to plan an outfit that is moving me towards amazing.

The resets weren't about creating a ritual for life, they were about challenging a thought I believed about myself, a lack or limitation and challenging it for six days, then taking the seventh day to integrate.

After six days of reading daily, I started reading more.
After six days of washing the dishes at night, I got really twitchy if I went to bed with a sink full of dirty.
After six days of questioning my thoughts with a new question each day, I started to naturally flow into question rather than attack.
After six days of drinking more water, I could feel when I wasn't.
After six days of saying yes to green, I was wearing green and eating green and noticing green all around me.

Knowing something is only a few days long eased my anxiety around failing. This wasn't about success at anything, this was about trying something on so I could feel like someone who _______, then decide if I liked it.

I like to think about the day following the light. In our little hibernating New England Winter it goes a little like this.

Early morning dark
Sunrise 
Daylight
Magic Hour
Sunset
Evening dark

I take each of those times and think about being someone who __________. I won't be the same someone in the early morning dark as I will during magic hour. Each part of the day affords an opportunity to reset, to whisper, Reset Wildthing, Reset. We can infuse these different parts of the day with challenges, rituals, we can try on our becoming through the presence of doing something now.

We can become someone who lives a great big fantastical life, even if we aren't sure yet what that is.

.......

PS. No rules to this reset. Just play. Piggy back other things into your six days. Do something different. Ask yourself what you are longing for and look at how you could set yourself up for a reset in those things. Or, just follow along, one small challenge each week.

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A Great Big Fantastical Life


I have a gazillion ideas and prompts for playing in the reset. I found myself trying to take out my favorite ones because of the voices in my head telling me that certain people wouldn't like that or that I couldn't do this or that because blah blah blah.

Small. The smallness will envelope you and this reset is all about living a great big fantastical life.

In this great big fantastical life, we aren't trying to find it, we are going to just live in it. We are going to become someone who lives a great big fantastical life.

The reset isn't about searching for anything, it isn't about being tortured and angsty, it isn't about shadows (because we've got enough of that work going on), it isn't about getting from point A to B.

The reset is about living in the now, the moment of, the act of, the trying on, the playfulness and joy of presence.

I was reading an article the other day as I was working on the Reset and it was about tidy people. In it she mentions that people who live in a tidy space don't save it all up until it is a huge mess, they are constantly looking for little resets here and there so there is never a huge mess to clean up. They are maintaining tidiness.

That is what this reset feels like to me each time I step into it.

I am living a great big fantastical life. Each little reset keeps me there, it keeps me from having to dig my way out of smallness over and over again.

Ok, I think that's enough set up for these six weeks. Ready? Let's play. And thank you for being here.
 

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One More Layer


Let's talk about Spiritstyle.

Since I was young, I have lived inside of the idea that the outside directly impacts and transforms who we are on the inside. And the inside is our guide for how we layer on our clothes as the way of being in the world. 

Being seen. Being true. Being our most amazing version of ourselves.

The parts of who we are communicated on the outside.

After the dishes are done, rings on fingers.

After the leggings and sweater, boots, worn, loved. Leg warmers bunched.

A color story that washes over us and matches our now.

Spiritstyle. Matching the parts of ourselves with how we show up each day. 

The feeling and witness of who we are.

And it changes. All the time. Each day we can be new.

.......

For this first six day cycle of the reset, I'd love to invite you to think about one more layer.

One more layer to your outfit. A braid in your hair, red lipstick, a couple of bracelets, fingerless gloves, earrings, scarves, vests, suspenders, hats, blazers, nail colors.

This is about becoming more you. The you that lives a great big fantastical life. The you who is someone who is seen.


In the photo above I started with my footless tights and a strapless white dress.

I added some long boot socks, a gray cropped shirt that I tied at the waist and my fingerless gloves.

I kept going. I added my favorite necklace and earrings and a stretchy brown belt to define my waist.

Later I put on a jean jacket and those cute brown shoes.

I kept adding one more layer until I felt like someone who is seen.

Now, I was going to Ikea this day with my girlfriend. I was not dressing for Ikea, I was dressing for me, for the woman who lives a great big fantastical life.

Each day of this reset can look different. The way in is to create the beginning.

I have one of those old accordion wooden hooks hanging in my office which is typically where I leave the house from. On it I hung a couple of necklaces, scarves, a jean jacket and two blazers, a hat, and a few other things that I wanted to invite into my reset. I found a couple things I hadn't felt brave enough to try on yet, and added those.

On my desk I made a little spot for a couple of earrings and bracelets and in the downstairs bathroom I put a little pouch with some lipstick in it.

I get dressed each day upstairs. I throw on a little bit of make up and I usually have on my standard uniform of leggings, long tight shirt and maybe a sweater or skirt.

But I spend my time in my office. I am mostly downstairs. I may not go back up once I come down.

So I set myself up to be able to add on one more layer in a place I'm going to be. Years ago I started taking off my jewelry at night and putting it directly into my purse because I would leave the house so early I knew I would never get that jewelry back on. So I brought it to where I would be later.

The setting up is how we live in the reset. The reset is how we live as who we want to be. 

I want to be someone who is seen. So I spend an hour going through all of my accessories and my closet and I pull out choices. I then put those choices in a place I will be, not stuffed in a drawer or lost in a closet. I have curated options for my great big fantastical life.

Then each day I can live in the Reset Wildthing, Reset. I already am actively engaged in what I've chosen. From those layers my past self chose, I can live in the beauty of someone who is seen.

Someone who is seen lives a different day than someone who is small.

They live in a great big fantastical life. 

They feel their beautiful Wildthing soul. 

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With the sunset I took off layers and added a soft cardigan for curling up on the couch with. We can flow with the light and the dark. Begin as one someone who... and land as another. 

This week using the #resetwildthingreset tag I'll be sharing my layers with you. If you feel like being seen and sharing photos on Instagram you can use the hashtag or click on it and view others who are sharing inside of their reset.

I will send the emails on Friday evenings, allowing for Saturdays to be a combination of integration to feel how the past 6 days were and to prep for the following 6 days.

So, Saturday ask yourself if you could carve out some time to play in your stuff! What do you have? Where do you keep things?

Make a little pile of layers and then figure out a wonderful place to keep them so that you see them and have easy access to them. You might just fill a little basket with layers and put it next to your full length mirror.  (Don't have a full length mirror? You are too gorgeous to not see yourself. Consider it.)

Then Sunday, simply be someone who adds one more layer.

Next level. For those of you who feel like you are already the layering queens, ask yourself where you are playing it safe and keeping small in your own way. A color you haven't tried. A scarf in your hair rather than around your neck. Small braids in your smooth hair. Reset Wildthing, Reset.

Peeing on the highway covered in ice on NYE

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I close my eyes and I watch two movies.

The movies created by my thoughts of a decision I thought I had to make.

On one side of the decision, one movie. On the other side of the decision another movie.

The movie keeps changing. One side will bring me relief then pain. The other side brings me pain then relief.

I step in and out of both exhausted.

The big stuff can feel like your life depends on it.

Last year on New Year's Eve I was driving in a minivan across the country. My only job was to drive and listen to music or our Audible book or to sleep and eat.

Something about that time was the happiest I've ever been. I didn't have a single decision to make. I did what was next, and then what was next after that. If the next thing was to go pee, I went to the bathroom. If the next thing was closing my eyes because I was falling asleep, I went to sleep.

I had imagined on the trip that Dave and I would have a big talk about something. That we would look at our relationship for hours and analyze and review and talk about everything we've done that was so wrong with us.

We never had a big talk. We just drove. And slept. And listened. And had sex in hotel rooms at night.

I would make tea using the hotel coffee makers and rub oils all over my feet. 

I felt safe that whole trip.

Even when we drove through an ice storm that was causing dozens of accidents all around us. I remember driving in it, crying and Dave having me pull over in the middle of a highway covered in ice so he could switch with me and I had to pee so badly. He told me to just hold onto the door of the van and pee. Right there on the highway, I squatted down, barely able to keep my footing and peed.

There was no decision to make. There was just me, my bladder, the highway and then getting back into the van to creep along some more.

Every year at this time I start to think I have to make a decision of what to do next in my work. As my income winds down and April gets closer I become splattered with decisions that don't feel comfortable.

The only thing that has ever worked is to just stop trying to make the decision and do the next thing. Write an email. Make a list. Run some numbers. Make a prayer.

I have never actively made a decision for what I will do in my work, it has just sort of happened; after a shit ton of movie watching of all the sides of a decision to the point of freaking myself out to wanting to just run away from my life.

I instead dropped the decision and found myself inside of it.

I know this. I can trust this. That decision is not mine to make. It isn't real. It is like this way I convince myself I have control over something, to believe that this decision will make or break my life.

When I get quiet and just do the next thing, when I see what is truly in front of me, when I choose just for this moment, the next thing happens too.

A decision can be a manipulation. A decision can be an excuse. A decision can be lack. A decision can be a fight. A decision can be part of a game. 

A decision can be control.

What if the decision isn't real?

What if the movies we play about all the sides of the decision are our way of suffering? 

Because we don't know. And every moment is new. 

My friend said to me that we don't owe consistency to anyone.

I change every single moment. 

I change my mind. I find grace. I surrender. I see myself in a new way after a bad choice. I see others in a new way after a bad choice.

What if we own that we are flexible enough to care for ourselves?

You know that cup half full or empty thing? I strongly don't like that. It isn't real. The decision to be one or the other isn't real. To think one way or the other isn't real. 

You know the decision you made not to text that person and then you do and you hate yourself for ten minutes (hours)?

You don't owe consistency to anyone.

You sent the text. It is only a text.

And maybe, the story you've created about it isn't true. And maybe it ends up being the most wonderful thing ever. And maybe it doesn't. And maybe it just was you, sending a text, being you, in that moment of whatever you were in. 

Maybe trying not to be who you are because you need to choose which half full or empty cup you see or which decision to make to fit into a perception of you is just not real.

What is the next thing?

When you open your eyes what do you see? 

No decision is ever more important than the person you are, right now, who is creating that decision.

Drop the decision and see YOU. Feel you. Are you being honest? Are you valuing yourself? Are you living in a projection or story? Are you trying to hurt someone so you can feel better? 

One more time on that one.

Are you trying to hurt someone so you can feel better? In parenting, in partnership, in friendship, in finances?

Maybe that decision, which I promise will make itself, is the way you stop yourself from the accountability of this one moment? From the accountability of showing up as love for yourself, first. 

When you are about to pee your pants standing on a highway covered in ice there is no decision to make. You pee. For the sake of the rest of the car ride, you pull your pants down first and squat.

If you don't, you'll be ok.

Stinky. But ok.

Today I got in the van, packed some snacks and drove. I found water, hiking trails (no, I didn't hike, I just observed for a while), other people sitting in cars with themselves. I munched grain free tortilla chips and a yummy granola bar.

I had no idea where I was going, I trusted that I'd find whatever I wasn't looking for.

I prayed to the water and the only thing I asked for was my own honesty.

If I can find that, why would I ever worry about a decision that isn't mine to make.

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.

For when I meet my asshole self again.

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.......

I look around and see a series of thoughts on endings and beginnings. 

Some speaking of the transition from 2018 into 2019 as the end of a tough year, of relationships, of suffering, of what no longer serves them. The ending, the past as truth.

Others have a lens of a beginning, fresh start, guiding words, resolutions, they see possibility and want to believe in something different coming. The future as truth.

.......

As the year switching digits seems to beckon us towards choosing one or the other, I'm practicing something new.

The idea that I need neither.

There is a 99% chance I will be sleeping as the year moves into the new one.

I'm inside of a new ritual of asking myself what from the past I'd like to bring with me into my next moment. Into my next breath.

Not what do I not want to bring. Not a story. Not a shaming.

Just like if I was packing my bag to go to NC, because I love NC, and I could only bring what I truly knew I loved, what is going in that bag?

Not shopping for something new, not wishing I fit into something I didn't anymore, not dreaming about being a minimalist or feeling bad about a pile of laundry that is sitting there, waiting for something I am making up.

Just what I know I truly love.

I'm not planning on starting a new year with a new word or goal or blaming my past for anything.

I'm going to in this moment claim what I already have, what I already know, what feels like the truest thing that ever was.

Into this I will sink deeper.

Into this I will be grounded before a new year comes.

Into this I already am.

Into this will be my home.

Into this I am safe.

Into this I am pure love.

.......

Into my suitcase, (my soul?), will be kindness, adoration, appreciation, forgiveness and devotion.

Each of these already living in me, me living in them. Stumbling a hell of a lot of the time, but I know them to be the truest things I've ever known.

Kindness has changed my life. There was a little time there when I tried to outrun it, but that was exhausting and self destructive and felt like shit. And so cleverly not kind to run from the thing saving your life.

Adoration is simply, of self. Not sabotaging, not blowing shit up, not claiming some new big thing, not hurting another to soothe my pain. I adore myself. I adore you.

Appreciation of this breath, of the blue sky (or the gray sky), of tears, of a cup of coffee, of my knee in pain, of struggles and of joys. I appreciate you. So damn much.

Forgiveness. Just that. For me this is freedom.

And finally, devotion, sort of like the final layers to a perfect outfit that I know I love. After the leggings and tight tank dress. After the wide leg pants and jean jacket. It is what pulls it all together and makes it me. The chunky belt, the leather necklace and earrings, the rings, the beaded bracelets. The decision to be seen, truly seen, not as a character morphing herself into someone else's story, just truly as herself, myself. That devotion is what breathes life into kindness, and my circle is born. My suitcase is packed.

I'm not going to say fuck you to the past or worship the future in some endless loop of expectation.

I'm going to say I don't know, a lot. I don't know what is next, I only know what is now.

Having clung on to what is next as life support only served to pull me away from the truth of what I know.

And in the truth of what I know, I'm going to admit, I know nothing. 

.......

When my knee got bad I had to stop wearing my cowboy boots, the piece of my identity I could hardly move past. That is who I was. How could I be anything other? I spent hours looking at shoes online to try to find something that could feel like me and allow me to walk.

I found nothing. I was holding so tight to my past self and trying to vision a future shoe that could fix what I didn't want to feel. 

There is no shoe to fix a body whose knees have been taken out.

There is no shoe that will let me feel any way I used to again.

There is only the knee. There is only this step. Or not.

Just as much as devotion can be all the final layers of jewelry and belts and shoes, it also can be taking it all off. Stripping down. Asking what is true right now. Who am I right now? An asshole or a beautiful being? Practiced at both I have evidence on every vision board I've ever made that being an asshole isn't part of my soul's desire. But the beauty? The beauty abounds.

Many years ago I had a photo of a woman sitting at an outside cafe wearing bright blue leggings with moccasin boots on a vision board. I searched the planet over looking for leggings in just that color blue. I couldn't find any, I remember the sense of frustration. Eventually I must have let it go and moved on, falling into the next thing I was obsessed with.

The other day I noticed what I was wearing. Moccasin slippers which are perfectly flat for what my knee seems to need and bright blue leggings, purchased years ago in some online sale. I flashed back to that photo memory hidden somewhere in a file labeled beauty. 

I'm not saying fuck you to the past, only thank you. I'm not going to dream of something that isn't in the future.

I'm just sinking into this, this moment, this feeling, this body where nothing needs fixing or numbing. 

Into this place where nothing needs to be solved.

Into this place where shoes are optional.

Into this beautiful being, forgiving the asshole self, because when we meet again I want her to remember I see her, I appreciate her, I adore her.

What is true right now?

Into this is where I'll be. And from it, everything that lies ahead will be the most beautiful of surprises.

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.

And so it is 2018 and 2019. Thank you. 
 

Reset Wildthing, Reset

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When my nervous system is razzle-dazzled. When I sit in my car feeling like the silliest version of a business owner. When my gut is hurting. When I feel boring. When I look in the mirror and see ugly and gross. When abundance feels out of reach. When my body aches.

I say, reset wildthing, reset.

I would ask myself what I needed in that moment to find calm, or the flip, or to challenge a thought I held about myself.

Repeating, Reset Wildthing, Reset, became my walking prayer.

Then the reset grew.

A woman in my circles mentioned taking a photo in the same spot each day to prove to herself that she hadn’t changed that much from one day to the next. You know how you wake up one day and you are the same human but the feeling towards yourself doesn’t match what yesterday held?

I decided to challenge myself, each day for six days I’d take a photo around the same time, in the same spot for seven days. On the seventh day the mirror crashed and broke. I took the lesson and reworked my challenges for six days, I didn’t need something falling apart each week to remind me to rest and feel the integration!

I tried to see how many resets I could gift myself with.

Where was I struggling? What was the story I was holding? What did I want?

I was feeling some lack in my finances. So each day for six days I put $ into my savings account. Some days a lot of $, other days a couple dollars. The reset was the act of giving to myself in this way to shift the thought pattern.

There was a story I held about not being able to finish any book I’ve ever started. I decided I would read every day for six days to see if I could finish a book. I didn’t. That one was a bust.

I’ve dressed up each day inspired by a character from my favorite show. I have ‘over’ accessorized each day for six days. I have eaten copious amounts of green food. There have been post it note challenges. Face washing, pajama wearing and oil rubbing. Question of the week.

On the seventh day, I integrate the reset.

What worked? Where did I struggle? Where did I resist? Is this something I would like to continue?

Then I was listening to a podcast and James Clear talks about how we try to optimize the success of a habit rather than the start of the habit. He believes that the success comes in the form of the first two minutes of the habit.

So running isn’t about the run, it is putting on your shoes and tying them. He worked with a man who got dressed for the gym every day for a week or so until one day he was able to take that start of putting on his gym clothes and walk into the gym.

If you want to be someone who folds your clothes after you do laundry rather than watching the pile migrate around your room for days (ahem) just fold a pair of socks. Start. Focus on the first two minutes. The entry in.

Yes, I have found my way into this one, I’ll share it in the reset.

I noticed the resets that failed had zero entry time in. The two minutes was intangible. I never washed my face because my face wash was upstairs and I didn’t go up until I was stumbling around half asleep. I needed to find my entry point.

The Wildthing Reset challenges became part of my ritual of self. They were a combination of desire for presence mixed with the desire for my becoming.

I want to be someone who…

I want to feel like…

I am…

I am…

In my year long circle we played with some challenges and I’ve been in a weekly love affair with the presence of action inside of a desire.

If you want to challenge a thought what is the first thing you need to do? Pause. Breathe. Ask a question. Zero pressure on the thought changing. The entry point to change, the question.

If you want to feel more put together for the day, take a shower and pause in the mirror as a blank slate, filled with potential.

If you want to calm your nervous system, fill a cupboard with tea and mugs you love and place an electric kettle underneath.

If you want to start going on daily walks in the morning, put on your sneakers.

Would you like to join me inside of a six week Reset Wildthing, Reset series of challenges?

I’ve broken down the reset into six weeks, lending six days a week to the challenges and one day to integrate.

The reset challenges are light and fun and if you feel like tracking your days or meeting others who are doing the reset there will be a hashtag on Instagram for connection.

The reset isn’t a goal or a way to achieve success inside of anything. It is a ritual of becoming by being activated inside of the richness of your actions now.

Who are you? What are your stories? Are you ready to find entry points into rituals that will lift you, inspire your now moments and rearrange your cells?

I am a wildthing who resets so she may feel her life’s richness and devotion and pleasure and sensuality

The first email will be January 4th, a Friday, to prep and think about creating the entry point for that week’s challenge. We’ll play for six weeks.

Reset Wildthing, Reset.






When believing in dinosaur bones comes with a cost.

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I was explaining to my circle the other day how I feel about dinosaur bones.

So... I feel like the existence of dinosaurs is a big leap for my brain to think of as true. My family loves to make fun of me. I just don't quite get it as something that makes full sense to me. And yet, there are bones, people will say.

So I have over time chosen to believe the bones as true and that makes things from there on out easier. Dinosaurs, still struggle with that.

When I was first learning about Abraham-Hicks, my brain couldn't believe this story about a woman named Esther who channeled this collective Spirit called Abraham. It blocked me from the richness of the teachings. I was just a big ole no thank you.

One day, after my third baby was born, I asked myself if I could simply receive it as true. Kind of like the bones. I agreed I could. Those teachings changed my life.

Sometimes I will make a choice, find big clarity, understand something new about myself or my beliefs and I will hear a voice.

It comes in the form of my voice, it just doesn't feel like it is me. I recognize it as something larger than me, maybe a feeling of GOD/Spirit.

All I know is that when I hear it there is a statement and a question. It only ever comes when I am in complete clarity.

The voice will usually tell of me of something that is to happen if I stand in my truth, my love, like the consequence of that choice and then it asks me if I am willing for that thing to happen? I have always, so far, answered yes.

I haven't questioned it or been afraid of it, I just say, yes, I am willing, it is too important to not be willing.

I think it would be easy to hear the prophecy of losing something and then feel like you are making a bad decision. This isn't that.

This is a place without fear. It is a little bit like there is a cost, but I don't feel it as a loss. I suppose it is more like, well Ok, if that needs to happen then I am OK.

I am OK.

The voice is the bones. I can hear it as true.

I used to tell the story of how I woke up one morning at 4am and I saw a space, a brick wall in a Loft building and I knew that I was supposed to be there. I found the space hours later and agreed to sign a lease for a place I didn't even know I wanted until that waking dream. (Turns out 4am awakenings are a thing.)

Now the story I tell again and again is that of kindness. Of choosing to embody kindness. Daily or weekly I would prompt myself with little challenges from what I would wear to how I was eating to the way I was communicating to how I was making decisions.

Kindness had costs.

My iteration into kindness meant being a larger size than ever before and loving every inch of myself.

It meant losing an identity of one who drinks into someone who is now mourning that self, learning how life with addictive behaviors presents.

This kindness exploration has me understanding and owning my codependence and learning to live inside of healing from that without a picture of the future.

Kindness wants me to find ways of meeting needs that is bigger, more, open (meaning less hermit days and more contact with humans, meaning vulnerable once again).

Most recently kindness has asked me to stop projecting into a future of fear and expectation and abandonment and high risk stakes and be right here, in the NOW which has been another loss of identity cause I love(d) that future fear game.

To walk with kindness I'm being asked to lay down the anger I feel, the resentment I feel and to look at the truth that all my creations, my reality, are mine, full responsibility, something I've been terrified of, because-cost.

I haven't fought against these costs. I just feel them as true. So that I can hear the teachings coming at me, so I can live inside the change.

Believe the bones, open to receive what comes next.

Can this be true?

Yes, it can. Simplicity.

There is a prayer that found me.

Please help me receive and live inside of what is true.

I hold the prayer as just that, the prayer. Not a need for a solution. Not something yet to come.

I am with it when it comes and I release it as quickly, I let it go. I let it go so I can be who I am now while all the magic is at work, maybe in some alternate reality where dinosaurs and voices and channels coexist together in a joyful land with candy rainbows and daydreams of what is.

When Home Depot is your last hope.

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Last week I hurt my knee. Pretty bad. I haven't had it checked yet as I was waiting till January 1st when my new Insurance kicked in so the money would go towards the deductible. I sense it is something major.

I've been resting it and icing it and wearing a brace and going out of my mind with the exhaustion of not being able to be a full participant in my life.

I've been rolling over and over the phrase, there is always something wrong with me. I have so much evidence for that statement.

I drove past this Christmas tree place that had the perfect trees. I've put off the tree because of my knee, all the decorations up two flights of stairs, boxes filled with Christmas memories that require my sorting because last year I threw it all up there with the promise of getting organized this year.

This year.

I drive past this Christmas tree place and my desire for cutting down our own tree surfaces. There were a couple of years when we did this and then the farm closed. My desire for a fake tree surfaces. My desire to not be so unorganized every year surfaces.

Last year we ended up at Home Depot. They had free hot chocolate. The kids (well, the teens) fought over which tree to get. We were freezing. The tree was huge, totally not my aesthetic but in the end, perfect.

I found myself looping into being the mother that ends up at Home Depot for the tree and Home Depot on Halloween day for pumpkins that we never ended up carving because I just couldn't.

It felt like the pain from my knee was driving these thoughts of how utterly ridiculous I am dealing with this kind of stuff. I love having so many kids and it is really really hard for someone who struggles with focus.

Yesterday the pain was so intense I couldn't climb the stairs to bed, I just stayed on the couch. My teen wanted to stay with me, I eventually coaxed him to go to bed. I felt lonelier on that couch than I've felt in a long time.

Pain is lonely. No one can do it for you.

I asked myself what was true.

What is true?

My knee is injured.
I am in pain.
The kids want a tree.
A doctor visit is in order to deal with the pain.
The decorations are in the attic.
My range of doing is limited.
I am safe.

When I stepped out of the loop that something is always wrong with me and I'm a flake that ends up at Home Depot for last minute Holiday shit, and that I am so unorganized and unable to let go of things, I fell into this weird thought loop.

Thank you knee. (This was a bit of a stretch.) Thank you for the ability to be present. Thank you for leading me to this primal fear that I think was this next level of feeling post not drinking. I've been searching for validation that not drinking was the best choice, that kindness was right about that. Somehow behind the anger and frustration that this knee is bringing me to, behind it is a level of feeling my stuff that I couldn't have done with alcohol pulsing through me.

And like, thank you Home Depot. Thank you for having those damn pumpkins for me. And thank you for the hot chocolate and the last 5 trees in your lot to choose from. Thank you Home Depot. You are always there for me.

Last night I was crying on the couch and my ten year old caught me. His instinct was to call out for someone to come help. I asked him not to. I told him I was OK, that I was having trouble finding a spot for my knee and that the pain was frustrating me, but that I was OK.

This was true. No story. Nothing beyond it. I needed to be with my tears so that they could pass. A feeling I could be in and then let go. He stayed with me and held my hand. What was true? I was not alone. 

Is there always something wrong with me? 

Maybe. Maybe that is true, though the word always is pretty intense. 

Maybe it isn't true.

And maybe if it isn't true I can just be in the now. In what is, right now. Maybe I can stop thinking about the shoes I can't wear and the things I want to do and the decorations in the attic.

Pain taps into some crazy primal fears. I want to fight and flight all at once. Instead I'm remembering every Christmas tree adventure and how unique each one was. All of the stories that I have, the memories, the chaos.

The moment I give Chloe the go ahead to decorate the house and go through the Christmas stuff the kids will have so much fun. There is eggnog in the fridge. 

What is true is that all of this is happening within me and Home Depot will always be there, waiting for me, when I need it. And that is true.

Crying on the toilet, begging for Zoloft in my sleep and why I was never going to write here again.

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I got up at 1:00am to go sit on the toilet and cry. In the past I would have done this with tequila, because tequila numbed my bladder. (That is not a true story btw, the numbing.)

Combination interstitial cystitis flare up, a belief that I am not seen where it matters most and the arrival of twenty years since saying I do.

Patrick and were married in Maine, twenty years ago. Choosing divorce was not because we hated each other, I tell the kids often that we divorced because we loved each other so much. We knew that we both deserved more. We weren't who we were when we met in 1993. The kids love when I remind them of this. They often tell me that they feel special, that other kids of divorce don't have parents that love each other.

I cried until 4:00am, visiting the toilet to cry deeper. There are some emotional disturbances happening for me now and that is translating into incredible pain and discomfort in my bladder. It makes me sad. It makes me want to lash out. It makes me want to fall into a bottle of tequila, have sex with strangers and eat an entire cake while smoking five cigarettes.

Instead, I sat on the toilet and cried.

In my circle we've been talking about generosity. Towards ourselves and others. It has grabbed me tight and pointed out where my struggles with it are.

When I am hurt, being generous feels impossible.

When I am scared, being generous feels worse.

Sometimes I can find it and even act on it, then if it isn't returned I'm thrown back into the spiral of the stories and the fears.

I kept recycling the thought that I couldn't feel better until someone else did xyz. That feels desperate and hopeless and those emotions breed resentment and anger.

I may be crying on the toilet, but that is mine. Mine to hold. Mine to feel. It is no one's job to make it better. This is how my body is working out its fear of being left, unloved, unseen.

That is mine.

I cannot be generous if I am acting from fear. I cannot be generous if I come from an extreme, that this is the end of something rather than the idea that maybe this is just what it is, a really uncomfortable place to be. 

I cannot be generous if I hold back my love when I am hurt.

I cannot be generous if I don't risk saying over and over, I love you. I see you. I miss you.

I cannot be generous if I can't rise above the child-led, wound-led, addict.

I cannot be generous if I focus on someone else changing, the only change that is mine to hold is that within myself.

Two nights ago I woke up and felt defeated, hopeless. I couldn't extract myself from a dream I had of trying to get someone to believe how sad and in pain I was and give me Zoloft. I took Zoloft once for about 2 months, I know its power. There is a theory that it can help with flare ups with interstitial cystitis. I don't think I need it. What struck my heart so deeply was how this girl in my dream was so desperate for it. So desperate to feel better.

Inside of the work with generosity there has been a whisper that I need to find bravery inside of it. That I need to be inside an act of bravery.

I've been thinking for some time about not writing here.

What happened is back in February, someone who doesn't care for me used words I wrote in my newsletter in a public attack on social media of me. Others gathered in and it became one of the saddest most heart breaking things I have ever seen.

It sent me into some of the deepest, hardest internal work I've ever done.

I am incredibly grateful for the experience. 

It was my first step into generosity when I just wanted to lash out.

Instead I blessed the whole thing, I allowed it in my mind to be someone else's truth/experience/need.

Where once I would have lost myself inside of the pain, I rose. And I rose inside of generosity.

I have however continued to struggle writing here, to you. The many yous.

A fear that it might happen again. A fear that my words can cause pain to others. Fear. 

The same fear that is causing my body to flare up. The same fear that leads to tears on the toilet.

A fear that being seen, being my whole self, showing up in extreme love and compassion which I pray for more than anything, that fear, that I will still not be loved.

And it will all end in pain.

Being brave today looks like sitting on the toilet in pain and not letting my anger win.

Being brave means not destroying this email list or this blog, but instead saying hello, thank you, your being on the other side of these words is part of my heart.

Being brave means saying I love you, I miss you.

Being brave means seeing someone as other, and letting the discomfort of wanting to make things better just be discomfort.

Being brave is owning that what is happening within me is mine. Trusting my body to work through this flare up, trusting in a nap, trusting in taking a little space in my day to care for my tender places.

Being brave is generosity. Today my walking prayer is let generosity come first.

Leaving my marriage wasn't brave, it sucked, but it wasn't brave.

Brave was the moment I stopped waiting for someone to change so I could feel better. It was the moment I chose my joy over the known, the comfortable. It was when I knew we both needed better.

Today that is still my brave. Layered with the fear of the extreme unhappy ending, the pain, the tears on the toilet.

let generosity come first.
let generosity come first.
let generosity come first.

so i may feel the love.
so i may see another's stress and fear as the truth inside the actions.
so i may flow with kindness.
so i may hold space.
so i may heal.
so i may become again, in my exhaustion and in my love.
so i may let generosity be 
my movement.

i see you. i will be seen. 

Shamed for being you.

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I hung up with my love after we spent time talking and feeling crushed at one of our kids being shamed for a choice. A choice that was all about self expression. A choice where she said, now I finally get to be me.

Not everyone will like her choice. Not everyone will think she looks incredible. Not everyone will even be able to see that her wanting it was nothing to do with anyone else other than herself.

We processed together, we made a plan on how to help her and support her.

What I am going to tell her is that the reason I was able to go get my hair cut into a shag with bangs was because of her. I was able to fully communicate who I wanted to show up as because of her, because of her bravery to chop off all her hair and reveal under those layers, feeling like she was the image of someone else, her own damn self.

I was afraid of getting bangs again. I heard some comments about them not being so great on me in past photos and it stopped me from going forward. I knew that the hair I wanted had to include these fringy curly bangs (yes, curly, bangs can be curly, mind blown).

It was her brave that led to my brave. It was seeing her light up inside of making a choice only for herself that allowed me to follow suit. 

And I TEACH this stuff!!!

So our hearts are a bit broken that others are making her decision and desire one turned into shame. And. We will rise above that and we promise her that she is not ever responsible for someone else's feelings. If we intentional hurt someone we need to own that and look at that and face that. And. Not everything we do is about someone else.

So now I'm all madly in love with my Spiritstyle hair. Madly in love with my man who ended our conversation telling me that what makes things OK for him was that he has me, the most amazing partner he could have dreamt of.

And I went from angry to floating in a bubble of love because that's what we have.

I will fluff my shag haircut, put on my Spiritstyle of choice today, which may change five times today, because who I want to be is calling me loudly, sometimes it takes a few tries to find her!

If you wanna play, just fill in the blank...

Today I shall be...

Then go find the clothes to become that.

Today I shall be warm, spiced surprise. Today I shall be wild woman wandering. Today I shall be peace and softness. Today I shall be a kick ass get shit done entrepreneur. Today I shall be the quiet. Today I shall be joy filled pink bubble vibration. Today I shall be kindness unquestioned.

……..

Come visit me over at my Instagram boutique (re)spiritingstyle, new to us treasures listed weekly, often on Fridays.

I've been thinking about waffles.

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I've been thinking about pajamas and how I want to be someone who changes into pajamas when the kids start their night routine. It isn't about the pajamas, I am quiet comfortable usually, it is about becoming someone who honors a night time practice, who falls into rituals rather than on the couch half asleep. It is about being someone who washes her face and smooths her oils because she honors her future self.

I've been thinking about a robe. Because I also want a robe to put over those pajamas. Because it is cold, really cold here.

I've been thinking about the leaves in New England, turning into the leaf peepers dream and what an asshole I was a few weeks ago declaring that this Autumn was not living up to expectation, how the colors I remembered weren't showing up. Well, guess what, it is freaking gorgeous here and I am just looking at why I felt the need to judge the leaves. Why was I feeling disappointment in trees?

I've been thinking about co-depency and how I am surrendering to the fact that yes, OK, that was me. Every piece of information I can listen to or read on it I am gobbling up like it is vegan gluten free strawberry cake and endless cups of tea. I'm breaking this shit up. There is a grieving period. An identity crisis of who I am without this and an excitement of who I am becoming without it, even though it feels raw and naked.

I've been thinking about blended family and how hard it can be and today I cried because it feels harder than what I can do, or want to do, or I don't have enough boundaries, or I feel I'm in a damned if I do damned if I don't position where I will never feel settled. And also, because I'm breaking up those co-dependant patterns and I am willing to now say, this isn't working. And I don't know what that means comes next. And I'm not trying to fix it. Just crying, and, walking, and crying, and walking.

I've been thinking about how I used to want to fix, or solve things, for everyone I loved and now I don't. I just don't.

I've been thinking about that strawberry cake I mentioned up in that metaphor above because pleasure for me sometimes comes in that form.

I've been thinking that yes, there are still hard bits to not drinking and somehow I am starting to feel the complete joy in having my life back, having me back. I don't ever worry about waking up feeling like shit or how I behaved or if I was an asshole (except to those poor trees) and I am finding so many practices to handle the shit storms of emotion that come up. See above, walking, crying, pajamas...

I've been thinking about how I want to coach less and conversate (that doesn't seem to be a word) more. I want conversations. That feel like the strawberry filling in that cake. Gooey, sticky, sweet, thick, lovely, sensual. 

I've been thinking that when I start to feel like I don't fit into my current set up of life, like when things aren't working, the flow, the feel, the practices, the relating; when I feel like I am a different shaped human than what my life is now, I marinate in the discomfort. And it sucks. I think a lot. About everything. I grieve it, I move it through me. I can barely find anything to wear that feels acceptable to the change because I don't know fully who she is yet. But I feel her. I feel her wiggling inside of me.

I've been thinking about my hair cut. How it feels like the first step into this becoming of a newly shaped life that can hold me. It reminds me of my nose piercing, my first tattoo. Me being me, without any other voices in my head. 

I've been thinking about how change is breaking of patterns, how new rituals and practices are a way to become a new part of who we want to be. How they guide us to that identity of self. If I want to feel differently/show up differently/become differently then I must actively and fiercely live in the now as though that is my truth, now. 

I've been thinking about waffles, buttery and dripping with the best maple syrup you can find. When my kids were little until like, 8 months ago, I wouldn't eat a waffle. I was a 30-day-cleanse-raw-grain-free-paleo-atarian. All for the purpose of staying small. I would hope the kids would leave just one little bite of that waffle that I could eat before washing their plate. Just that one little bite. So I could taste it but not be inside this body that is now me. My body that feels like home. All of me. Not small. Just fully me. Do you know that this size 14 body has been the body my Spirit has whispered is my truth for years? Years? I have fought it so hard with everything inside of me. I test myself sometimes to make sure this is really true, that I am really here, in total love of this body. I'll ask questions like, "Well, what if you and Dave broke up and you wanted to date, would you try to be small again?" "What if you were going to see so and so, would you freak out and not be able to because of your body?" The other day I was making Instagram stories and I caught my belly jiggly bits in the dress I was wearing showing loud and clear. A year ago I would have not posted that video. Now. I not only post it but I loved it. I love this me. I love an occasional gluten-free waffle, frozen ones, right out of the box, buttery and dripping with syrup. Every single bite, for me.