Since I was young I have believed for better or worse in my muchness. My nickname was motormouth. I demanded a lot of attention. I like to think I was funny and entertaining in gaining this attention, but now as a parent, I am guessing it wasn't all entertaining.
When I was young 'too much' was more like being sooooo much (it wasn't heady it was a soul knowing), so infused into the world around me, so desiring friendships and fun adventures. I wanted to be inside of everything going on. To climb on every dirt and sand pile, to ride my bike on all the paths, to know what all the kids were up to.
I tell my clients who hold this belief that they are too much, that they possess a gorgeous and magical thing. I tell them they are sooooooo much. So much beauty and realness and love and sadness and all the things wrapped up into what is usually a highly sensitive body.
Processing the world in highly sensitive skin is going to include a bunch of fuck ups and a whole lotta hot loving. It feels manic and low and every space inbetween.
It is feeling so much that you often talk too much, can't sit still, stumble over explaining your feelings or just need to go quiet and numb for a while to process what it all is. So much feeling.
And what if you had someone who could hold all of you while whispering in your ear that they have you?
"I've got you baby. I've got you."
The ones who can hold all your sensitivity and all those he/she encounters in the world without taking it on, without thinking you are crazy (ahem) and without judging. Who can wrap your sensitivity into words that make sense. Who forgives you when you spin out of control. Who understands that your feelings become your reason and that doesn't make you weak or wrong.
What if you had someone who trusts you and your feelings as soul-journeying, not as being too much to be loved?
Along this path we walk, these human manifestations who can hold you, will show up. They may journey for a long hike, a forever walk or a sprint. But they will hold you. They will teach you that you are love. They will ground you. They will call you back when you fall down the holes that are dark and long.
They are heart and pure love and human star dust.
They come in all forms. A child with a heart that was born to teach you a new depth of love. Friends who believe in every bit and piece of your make up and are the ones who reframe and catch your tears and become containers for your laughter. Lovers who hold you tighter when you are afraid and are intoxicated by your joy and humbled by your love for them. A stranger who holds your gaze, smiles, and infuses you with confidence that your skin is beautiful.
And there will be days when no one can hold you. When no one can convince you that your feelings aren't eating you alive. The days when your nervous system is on overload and the only way back to you is you.
To become the one who trusts you and your feelings as soul-journeying, as star dust.
You travel through it. Accept it. Surrender. Make a prayer. You hold you.
You feel it all, every damn bit of those feelings, with every speck of your stardust.
The prayer becomes infused into the Universe's voice.
That voice will be heard when leaves blow, coffee brews, babies cry, horns honk. It is your surrender to all the magic of the knowing that you have you.
"I've got you baby. I've got you."
Making Space for Surrender is where we will journey through the feeling, accepting, surrender, prayer and change.
We start February 1st.