This crazy thing called transparency.


I find myself sitting in Patrick's car outside the emergency room. He is rubbing my back and I am using Ujjayi Pranayama which is my comfort, my safety. He seems certain I am not dying so I try to know that I am not dying, that my heart is just experiencing some struggle. I breathe deeply the sounds of the ocean and I know I am safe.

First panic attack since November, November when my life started to shift into an awakening and it feels like living on a boat, always rocking, sometimes wild swaying, the occasional storm.

Before getting in his car both of my hands went numb and I found it hard to open and close them. My heart was beating out of rhythm. The room kept taking on a powerful white glow, similar to a moment in time when I was laboring with Chloe, when something greater than myself felt present.

He says, "I wish you could just get a cold!" I laugh. God, I do too. But this body of mine is far too clever. This body calls me out when I am stuffing in my emotions or hiding or numbing.

I got triggered by anger. I got really angry, suddenly, out of nowhere. It wasn't the anger that comes when I'm trying to avoid something, it was real true anger. I was angry about not knowing. At myself. It was the anger that you feel that moves you further up the emotional scale towards joy. If you let yourself feel it. And joy is what I seek.

I remember inside of the anger, as my heart started to beat faster, I remember thinking I need to call a friend. I need to tell someone about this anger, I need someone to hold it with me, help me process. My blood sugar was low. I was having such a nice day with my babes. I thought maybe my heart just went out of rhythm and it would pump back into normal with one more breath.

So I made a choice not to trust the anger wanting to come out. Not to trust its vulnerability of feeling and talking. I didn't want to call a time out on my Saturday with the kids to process it. I didn't want to burden another with my story, with my anger story.

I didn't want to receive. 

So my body called a time out. And I sat outside the emergency room in ocean breath with the man who has witnessed all the panic attacks and emergency room visits each time I've refused to feel and trust and we sat there together as it moved through. We are learning a new way to be together. Which is simply just being together. Accepting what is. Like that moment. We didn't place judgement on it, we let it work through, we let the panic surrender in its own timing.

In this awakening life has shifted. I feel transparent. Beautifully transparent.

I am sad and I am so fucking happy. Like happier than I've been in forever. This work I've been doing for years is the work of angels, hearts, oceans, fires. It is pulsing and dramatic as hell. It is my intensity leaning into being. This is me knowing that I love this life now.

Not everyone will live a life with the same intensity and drama and sensitivity that I do. Oh my!!! Accepting not only our way, how we move through, with Ujjayi breath or holding our breath or passsionate panting or the deep exhale and pause, but knowing that a greater source of breath exists within.


I sat outside the emergency room and I felt a trust for this panic attack. I felt crazy transparency and not ashamed of my hands numbed or my heart wild. Patrick had googled panic attacks, even though we know, and told me how many people experience them.

I felt this connection to my Universe which is our Universe. My safety is there. My safety is within that which is breathing through me.

I breathe deeply the sounds of the ocean, and I know, I know I am safe.


(thank you to all of my sweet loving friends who sent me the texts and the messages checking on me. thank you.i breathe with all of you.)