A bladder loved.

 Collage A bladder loved

My bladder still leaks. Sometimes I am so used to it and then I attend a wedding in my hot little red dress and start to jump on the dance floor and with the warm release remember that I have holes. Leaks. Places that no longer work as they once did. I have to keep stopping and padding. I jump less and feel slight embarrassment with each trip to the bathroom.

So, it leaks. I'm working on it. I don't believe I will live with this forever. I do love the irony that bladder issues have to do with holding, with fear of letting go. So mine just lets go a lot since emotionally I am a master holder!

The pain from Interstitial Cystitis is mostly gone. Holy shit. I'll type that again. The pain is mostly gone. Today was the first day I've had a flare up in months. Months. This part of me working better than it has in so many years. I can have sex with ease and fun. My body can move and flow. It feels a bit like a rebirth for this part of my body, this feminine squishy loved place.

I feel sexy. I feel open. I feel my yes.

(Please grab that mantra for yourself.)

***

The pain was the crazy gift. I love my bladder. I have deep respect for all it does and even for what it can no longer do.

I understand that when I am 'off' like today it is a reminder that I am heading towards a new place. And that I must drink water even though I don't like to pee often.

It is my gentle nudge that I must start to create the nest for the new.

This loved bladder of mine allows me to feel present. To not run away.

Being present means not always being strong. It means feeling tired (like I am today) or scared. It is understanding the fears so we can move through. Each time new space is coming in our lives, something happens. It is in the listening that we are able to move through.

You can be strong later. In the present you need to feel it to move through it.

***

We have been talking about feeling in Making Space for Surrender. Feeling what you are fighting against rather than numbing it or silencing it. Feeling it so it can become a guide towards what you want. Feeling it so you can find a way to what you need.

So tonight I am going to put on my yoga pants and make mug after mug of steaming red raspberry leaf tea. I'm going to make a huge pot of chicken corn chowder (recipe will be in Holiday Joy Up). I'm going to clear out a few corners that have piled up with stuff.

***

On the last full moon I tried to release silence. Held the word inked on paper onto the red flames of the fire. But truly I suck at release. I don't like it if I'm being honest. But I wrote it down as though that word needed to jump out to the paper.

I thought it meant that I needed to find ways to talk more about how I am feeling.

What I've realized in the last few weeks is that I am actually releasing the fear of silence and opening to the softness of what I adore.

I use words. Typed on this old computer. Words unspoken are how I process. How I share. How I guide. How I teach.

For now I am not the girl in the therapist's chair. I write. I write to breathe. I write to move through. I write to feel.

And in the silence of my writing I find home, find love, find truth, find you, find longing, find peace.

***

A bladder loved. I had to feel the pain to find the love. And so...

***

A new prompt for those of you keeping your vision books. Find that intuitive beauty resting inside your lovely eyes, and play.

She's...

She's

 

 

 

 

What do you do when you arrive at one of your beautiful dreams?

“And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?” ~Rumi

I am

I've arrived at several. My beautiful dreams come at me fast now, making me almost intimidated to do the work I teach; guiding women how to vision these dreams and connect to the magic inside of them.

This is a discussion we are having over in my Magic Making Mastermind Circle and I want to bring it to you. I'll wax a bit on it, but I am most interested in what you do when you arrive at one of your beautiful dreams.

How do your thoughts start to shift and how do you integrate the arrival into the place you may have been visioning for so long?

Once I have stepped into this 'new reality' to quote one of my Mastermind women, I am often quick to move on. Lingering in the celebration of it isn't always my way. There is a depth of the shadow work I have done to arrive at many beautiful dreams and I am one of those people who craves the discomfort that growth and trusting the inner voice brings.

When I was 25 I lost my first pregnancy. Then two more. A baby was my beautiful dream and I walked through shadow after shadow, deep sickness and disconnect in my marriage to finally give birth to my daughter on Sept 15, 2002. For two weeks I was pretty blissed out. Even with the extra 40 pounds I was still holding, the swelling that refused to go away and the struggles with nursing.

At the end of week two she started to cry and didn't stop for about 4 months or so. I was inside of my beautiful dream and it kind of sucked. I was sucked into a deep depression, I felt alone and scared and disconnected from everything I had known.

My beautiful dream, everything I had wanted, to be a mom, to hold my babe. Here she was and my new reality filled me with fear.

It took me a long long time to dream again. Shell shock or high-anxiety or just pure exhaustion. I loved that little being to the core of my soul and I just couldn't imagine how a dream could feel so different. Looking back I know that I wanted to be a mom because I wanted to fill a piece of myself that felt empty, raw, exposed. I believed a baby would fill it.

I wanted to feel whole.

What the baby did was become one of my greatest teachers. All of my children become deep love in my soul but never filled me up. Never made me whole. Thank God I have them, thank God I looked to be filled through them so that they are in our life.

And thank God I saw the truth inside of the dream so that I could begin to dream again. I wanted to feel whole.

From that feeling inside the dream I have visioned my way into so many new realities. Each one lifting me up, each one teaching me that feeling whole is me becoming light. And so I dip into shadows, I come out and shine stronger, brighter.

It is the Awakening that becomes a layered goddess of story and experience and squeezes me in her fiery wild circle, refusing to let me go. "This," she says, "this is where you journey to feel and become whole. This is home."

And I love her. She found me at 19 when I longed to become whole through the love of a man. She found me at 38 when I longed to become whole through the love of my soul. She walks each day with me, visions the next beautiful dream, tells me stories of home.

toasting

As I journey and dream I am learning to celebrate the manifest of the dream, of the feeling. Teaching others how to celebrate the beauty and the joy and the desire in their lives is part of this dream.

Whatever shame I held in celebrating this life I am creating is floating away, popping like the bubbles in my celebratory glass of bubbly. This was a beautiful dream. Shining so I may give permission to others to shine. That is beautiful right?

Now that I understand it is the feeling inside of the dream that guides us, I draw these visions into my life at a pace I must account for. My world has been rocked over and over.

And I am also OK with the not knowing. There are some feelings that I want and have no way of knowing how it will look. Releasing expectation.  Arriving in perfect alignment. Finding ways to be there now.

What do you do when you arrive at one of your beautiful dreams?

Breathe into it. Notice how you feel. Remember how you wanted to feel. Lean into the new reality. Be gentle with yourself. Celebrate the hell out of it. Keep visioning.

That is me. What about you?

(Spirits of Joy, the 30 day course towards creating a vision book where you will dream and dream and dream will come out of hiding for September. And the vision book will rock your whole world.)