I Need More

Sometimes I need more self care than other times.  Is it hormonal? Astrological? 

Also, #selfcare didn't really used to be a thing, a buzzword.  There was "me time" and "down time" there were just normal freaking people who read books and painted their nails and took showers and ate healthy and that wasn't some special  #iterativeliving thing.  It was just life.

But back to me...There are times in my life where I don't have to be as protective of my sleep.  When I can work late and get up early and be happy.   (This isn't one of them.)

There are times in my life where I can survive without eating breakfast. (This isn't one of them.)

There are times in my life where I can plan weeks in advance.  When I can see clearly, long distance.  (This isn't one of them.)

There are times in my life where I feel connected and grounded and thoughtful and clear.  (This isn't one of them.)

But right now - in order to be a good mom, and a good wife, and a good friend, and a good coach, and a good person - I need to sleep, eat, read, and do less.  Maybe the #busy caught up with me. Maybe breastfeeding is exhausting. 

Maybe maybe maybe,  baby.

You know what you need if you stop long enough to listen. (Click to Tweet)

Call it self care, call it indulgent, call is necessary, call it spoiled.  Sometime it's just survival. Like when you can't go on any other way.

Just remember this:  Take care of yourself when you need to.  

To The Space Between Projects: I Currently Hate You.

Hate's strong.  I use it when I am fearful.  I've noticed others do too.  When we are maxed out uncomfortable and pushed to our edges, there is hate.  When there is resistance (for whatever the reason) to incorporate something into our life stories, there is hate.  It's reactionary.  It is born of fear. 

I've talked a lot about finishing stuff recently.  Like, BEFORE I take on new shit.  Radical, isn't it?  (Yes, that's rhetorical, somewhat).  

I am a push-forward-always-driven-isn't-she-manic-but-ohsotogether type of person.  

So being without something on the horizon is TERRIFYING. And when I say that I really mean it.  I mean the kind of heart in your chest and fight or flight fear. How's that for radical honesty?  

So right now I have given myself a task that brings up hate and fear.  Oh my.  Biting off a lot.  

So I sit here with the clean slate, the tabula rasa. 

So I sit here with the feelings that arise. 

So I sit here, in between. 

I Feel Like An Adult

So I have said a few times recently that for me, this year (32) is a year of brand new things.  I am aware of beginnings. (Did I say that? Or did I just think it?)

It's the first time I've had a coffee maker in my office.  

Well, wait, it is the first time I have had an office outside of my home.

I've also made my first friend as an adult.  And this is weird right?  Most people have friends, I think.  But if you work for yourself as much as I have and then have kids, you don't really have a lot of meeting people time.  

Since moving back to Providence I feel like so many doors are opening for me.  And in really healthy ways.  

I feel very fulfilled.  My kids are thriving (despite the long winter), my stress level is low (despite the craziness that is life due to moving my home and my business), my husband has lots of work and is happy (despite the fact that his desk is in the currently unheated basement), and lost importantly, I have a friend. Who lives down the street and has kids just my kids' ages.  So, like, we have everything in common (ish). 

But you know what the best part is? 

Not feeling so incredibly alone.  And to me that equals BEING HEARD.

Incredibly simple, yet incredibly empowering.  

So, I am going to add another word to this years word list: Community.

It is not always what/who you think.

We need each other, people.

Because when it is 8PM and I am already in bed, but stuffing chocolates into my mouth, it is far better to know that she is doing it too.

See?  Check out slide 4:  

Confidence:: Seize It. Be It.

Lift your head up, woman.  Look at me in the eyes.  This is for you.  

Yes, you heard me.  I am speaking to you.

You are beautiful and strong.  Right now.  Has anyone told you this today?

Have you said those words to yourself, even at your weakest moment?

Look at your own worth.  Write down your accomplishments.  Celebrate yourself.  And not in some pretentious way.  Make it count.  Create value.

There is no shame in this skin of mine.  There is no shame in yours.  Yes, we have emotions. Yes, we are not perfect.  Yes, there is envy.  Yes, I compare myself to you.  Yes, I am not always my best.  Yes, neither are you.  

It doesn't matter.  At the depths of it all, you know your truth.  And the truth is, you and I both, we are really, really epic.

This is what I want to tell you:

You are captivating.

You are brilliant and talented.

You've done so much, it is magical.  You glow with the weight of it.  

Without you, I wouldn't have much to strive for.

Shine on.  (Click to Tweet)

Frozen.

I used to say I loved winter.  To hunker down inside and work and work and work and work.  To turn inward.  To reflect and hibernate and put down roots and RITUALS. 

(I won't forget it's beautiful.)

(I won't forget it's beautiful.)

(I won't forget it's beautiful.)

But this winter I am feeling more trapped.  More restricted.  

Frozen.

I guess I've something still to learn about stillness. (Click to Tweet)

So now each time I feel trapped, I promise you I'll take a breath.

So now each time I feel restrained, I'll raise my arms and spin in place.

So now each time I must pick my steps so slowly so as not so slip, I will ground and relish in the slowness and intention.

So now each time I pull at the layers, I will relax into the feeling of being held.

So now each time I want to breathe the air, I simply will.  And feel the cold bite of frozen air.

And I will promise to capture a few of these moments in the stillness.  

After all, we are lucky to have these frozen moments.

Bitchy Little Critic:: Your Inner Voice

I just told a client a few weeks ago: Your inner voice narrates all that you do.

Your inner voice is: 

• Not always right.
• Just a moment in a long story that we tell ourselves about ourselves. 
• Created by all that comes at you in life.
• Beautiful, no matter what it says.

What does yours say?

Recently my inner voice has been a bitchy little critic.  (CLICK TO TWEET)

I keep telling her to STFU.  But she doesn't listen.  

I speak to myself SO DIFFERENTLY than I speak to anyone else.

I talk to my kids with (mostly) sweetness.  My husband. . .well, I try.

With my clients I am firm, yet kind.  My friends and family come to me to be talked though things.  To be LISTENED TO.

My intention is to work on the conversations I have with myself in my head.  Conversations about feelings and thoughts and worthwhileness and overwhelm and incapacity. The funny thing is when these things come aloud, I don't even believe them.  

I know I am not what the voice says I am.  But now, to sweeten the voice.  To add fullness and honey.  

Learning to take care of myself.  Learning to care for myself with how I talk to myself.

I am 32 and I Just Used Body Wash for the First Time

It was just my birthday.  It is a new year.  I had a party.  I got some gifts.  

I used to hate getting presents.

I don't anymore.  Rarely, rarely, rarely do I get something I don't want.  

I love how well people know me and how graciously they think of me.

So, I got body wash.  I know they SELL body wash, like, in stores.  But I have never bought any.  I never really considered it either.  Maybe because my mother barely uses soap.  Maybe because my husband only uses tea tree castille soap, which makes my skin fall off. Maybe because too many things on the shower rack piss me off (whoops, then I had children and that went out the window).  Maybe it is because i believe too much in natural oils.  I put my belief systems aside and me and my dry-ass winter-skin took a shower tonight and tried body wash.  HOLY SHIT. They make stuff that cleans you without feeling like your skin just died.  I am. in. HEAVEN. 

SO, what will I do?  I'll write a THANK YOU NOTE.  Yes, people still do this.  And if you don't, you suck. Seriously,

stop sending thank you emails, people.  It doesn't fucking count.

(Click HERE to Tweet)

That person worked, made money, then they thought of you and then they went out (or online) and actually PURCHASED something.  FOR YOU.  And maybe they wrapped it or mailed it or dropped it off.  Either way, you should think about this for at least the time it takes to sit your as down in a chair and handwrite something thoughtful.

If you tell me that you are too busy to write a damn thank you note then get the fuck off my site. 

Okay, that's a little mean, maybe you need to stick around and listen to a thing or two that I have to say. Or maybe, you just need to start caring for yourself and for others and creating enough time and space to thank others and to thank yourself.

(ps. don't look a the list of gift givers as a list of thank you notes to do.  Rather, look at it as a list of loving people who took time out of their lives to make a difference in yours.)

And for goodness sakes, teach your damn kids to do the same. 

My First Post of the New Year

2014.  

I wanted this post to be brave.  I wanted it to represent all that I am.  I wanted it to be witty and tearful and profound and shocking and wholeheartedly authentic.

I want to start out on the right foot.  (Which one is that?)

I want, I want, I want, I want.  Me. Me. Me. Me.

That's not the truth this year.

                ~~~The truth is that this year is about YOU~~~

• It's about what you think of when your eyes open in the morning. 
• It's about who you serve.  
• It's about how you help.
• It's about what good you do.
• It's about how you make this world kinder, more real and more worthy.

It's about YOU.  Be kind to yourself.  (Click to Tweet).

Hello, 2014.  Hello, you. Breathe.

Sugar Overload (stuuupid cookies)

You might be done, but I am not.  

My birthday is next week (on January first if you are wondering).  So, I am in somewhat suspended holiday until then, when I can

resume "normal" life.

What the hell does that mean.  I just typed it, I know.  But "resume 'normal' life"?  WTF? Haven't I been around long enough (guess not) to know there is NO SUCH THING?

There is a lot of change, a lot of upheaval and I am so, so, so happy that this is winter, when I can transition in private. –Click to Tweet.  (Oh, except for this blog). 

What do you want/need for your post-holiday recovery?

I want to EAT VEGETABLES, DRINK WATER, SHOWER and HAVE A CLEAN SINK.

Why wait, there is squash soup and a tall glass of water waiting for my attention.  Tomorrow?  A brisk walk, fresh air in my lungs, and a hot new nau jacket.

THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU

Yes, yes, I know.  Contrived.  Predictable. 

But, FUCKING GENUINE.

Seriously, thank you for showing up here and reading.  I know you are.  I have site statistics and know there are between 100-800 of you.  I don't know who you are (well, except you, mom), but, thank you.

It's a little odd to be this public.  This honest.  This open.  It's embarrassing.  

I alternate between feeling badass and like and asshole.

I worry, what will my grandmother think?  Should I curse this much? What will my clients think?  Will my daughter read this?  Could I be arrested?  Will I get a stalker?  Do you know where I live?  Do they want to know anyone this well? Am I a waste of internet space? Yarp, I think all of these things JUST LIKE YOU.  But I let them float by.  I try not to get hung up.  I try to push forward and keep TRUSTING and BELIEVING that if I am really, truly, honestly as much me as I can be–that I will speak to a place inside you where judgement is forbidden. 

So, THANK YOU for creating and holding space for me, virtually.  It's my true hope that my attempt to reconcile my whole self here in front of you will inspire you to do some of the same.  Be You. Be the best you that you can.  

Be honest and hope and fucking pray that they/he/she/I will love you anyway. 

Happy Thanksgiving, folks.