The Keeper…

Women have long been the keepers. Keeper of stories. Family history. Secrets. Wishes. Dreams. Round a warm fireplace or simply held in her arms you may have told her your thoughts of the day, or let them melt off of you and wash away. Letting her cleanse your soul so that you could go farther. Make it another day. Offering you what reserves she has within herself. Taking on your burden for you. Be it a mother, friend, spouse, sister or the feminine energy within your own being; she has been the one that holds so much for you. A loving embrace. As a birth worker, I see it time and again. The holding on. Keeping quiet. While flooded with emotion we all find that place, some sooner than others, where we let go of our past selves and welcome the new. Forever evolving and emerging as a new woman, time and again. Emerging. Finding some treasure stored deep within us. Where did you come from? As a mother leans against me. Dries her tears on my shoulder. Squeezes my hand…and feels me return the intensity. I offer my strength. Give her grounding. Warm her with my hands. Wash the fear and blood from her thighs. Soothe her inner doubt with an intense gaze letting her know that I believe in her. I have been where she is going and it holds such promise. She can do this and is doing it as we lock eyes and she bears down against the most difficult thing she has ever done. This may be her first time making this journey, but it will not be her last. She has much to fight for. And, so much within her that needs to be heard, seen or felt. Be it one child or fighting for that child…she will return to this path. It isn’t only in the world of birth where we find these stories. Friendships hold these jewels. Family bonds. They are found in the letting go. And, in the standing of ground. The balance is difficult but it is there. Teetering in the winds of time. We cannot be contained. Our presence is much too strong. Our voices too loud…even though they may be but a whisper upon the night. A soft confession in an ear. An “I don’t think I can do this anymore” as the hours pass. But she does, she persists. In this moment. And, she will keep trying in the next. Looking back over her shoulder and seeing just how far she has come. As you welcome these stories and the complexities of the characters in your life, be it in passing or in moments to recall down the line, delve deeper into who she is. Where did she learn to make those biscuits? Find her happiness in a time called The Great Depression? Find her way when there was no one there to guide her. Find her voice when she had kept it quiet, hidden within for so long. Find the person she needed in the moments when it mattered. There you will find the connection between us all. Let her keep you. Keep you in that moment and what she offers may not be material, but a breath of what is necessary. What is her story? What is yours?

So who are you, anyway?

sunrise2                   So what about those dreams of yours? What about those emotions that stay constipated within you and are trying to release themselves in some sort of way? What about those hunches and intuitive gut feelings that creep up and you stuff them down again and again? Who do you think you are to neglect the fact that you are some kind of infinite possibility? Stop pretending this life of yours doesn't matter as much as you thought at one point. Stop hiding from the fact that  you were put here to live the most expansive life you've ever dreamed about. It's not the universe holding you down, love. Break out of that routine that keeps you from touching the stars. I want you to stop looking at the others that have achieved what you can only think about, as more than who you are. What if you're time is right now, in this very instant? What if the inspiration you've been searching for is waiting patiently for you? But you're so concerned with not being good enough that even the sun and the moon can't catch your attention. Lift your head, girl, and feel the warmth that is your infinite possibility. You're made of God and light and love and yet you continue to deny your birthright. That you are here to change the world. Stop shrinking, love. Stop turning your head away from the vastness that is your life and your existence. Open to the possibility that you are incredible. Amazing. Deserving of magical, heart pounding love. I know it may seem distant. I know it's scary. But this is your truth. You are infinite love. And when you forget that, look to the sky and the earth that supports your very existence. Look to the people that hold you and support you. Look to the new souls that light your heart up when you've forgotten how it feels. So who are you, anyway? Who do you choose to be in this beautiful life you've been given? You can choose whatever you'd like. Really. There are no rules to this, and no one is judging or getting in your way but you. It's time now to take a deep breath and step forward. To be brave and honest and real and be all of the things you want to be. I want you to just be who you are. Beautiful, magical moments of infinite possibility. Be the one who isn't afraid to get the tattoo, shave her head, say fuck more times than necessary and put her heart out there for anyone to see. Be dirty and sexy and raw. Trust your gut and that voice that speaks to you in the quiet moments of the morning. The one voice you hear above all the others that feels like love and magic and sunshine. You are here for a million reasons. You are here to live a life that is more than simply breathing. Reach out for it. Scream for it. Don't ever forget the love that flows to you from all the universe. Go, now. Step into your possibility.        

Too Full of a Life?

I don't think there is any such thing. There are lives too full of work. Lives too full of play.  Lives too full of random. Lives too planned out. I live a very scheduled existence. Between my children's schedules. Client schedules. Somewhat scheduled due dates. Scheduling time with my beau. Scheduling individual time with my kids. Joint time. Family time. Bath time and bed times. I literally have to schedule time for me. All too often I get the last-minute or necessary thing that fills up those times. I feel guilty taking them. I feel guilty asking for them.  But, I know that they are essential for mental clarity. Sanity. Survival. Putting your life on paper gives you a new perspective. Wow! I spend how much time doing x, y and z? When did I last kick my shoes off and let a stream wash over my feet?  I taught my children this joy...but, when did I last do it for myself? When was the last time you did it for yourself? It doesn't take long. Doesn't cost much. It doesn't really even take much time. The "cost" is minimal for such a large gain. Whatever recharges you. Moonlight dance. A lazy bath. A pedicure. Some time with your inner creative goddess. Paint. Draw. Write. Sing. Stroll through an art gallery. Sip a latte and read poetry on the floor of Barnes and Noble. Find the things that bring you a moment of peace. It helps your soul smile. You may have the perfect family. The perfect job. The perfect body. But, it is never worth extinguishing your inner fire. We all need a little sunshine...might as well let it shine from within!

In the rush of the water. There was silence.

boldsessions                     (handwriting cred goes to Ruth Clark. She does tattoo design now. Seriously amazing.)   I've never been through a tragedy. I've never witnessed mass destruction or a horrible life changing event. But I can only imagine that after you are hurled through the emotional distress of the event, that for a long time you just process it. You may become very still for a while. Watching it unfold again and again. Standing still as the aftermath continuously changes around you and things and people shift and move and the energy changes. You start deciding if this is where you need to be. Want to be. What you do with it all.   For the last two months I have been in somewhat of a standstill. The energy I so badly needed to move forward, finally exploded in front of me and I have bared witness to the rush of forward movement in my life. Taking it all in. Allowing and receiving and moving with it all. Deeply humbled by love and acceptance and forgiveness.   You should write, I kept telling myself. You should write about this. This is some good shit you're going through.   But nothing came. So I allowed it to be at a standstill. While my world flew around before me, and I gently accepted the pieces falling where they may.   Deeply trusting that each piece would find its perfect place to lay. Allowing the tears to flow. The shortness of breath be calmed by the truth that I have always been taken care of. This time is no different. Breathe, girl.   It's like I released the ball I was so desperately hiding under the water. Stuffing and pushing and forcing that movement of energy was exhausting. I wasn't asking for what I needed. I wasn't demanding that my life be more than just an attempt of the normal day to day. I wasn't insisting that my life be filling. Thrilling. Exciting and juicy and rich and damn good.   I want it to be damn good.   So I asked. I told. I demanded. I said yes. And the energy surged forward. And in the rush of the water, there was silence.   Bold moves and bold decisions that led to the universe saying, yes. Yes girl.   Yes to the fullness. Yes to the breath. Yes to the manifesting and the light and the connection. The beauty and the forgiveness and the darkness of it all. Yes to you opening your heart to the parts of you that scare you. Shrink you down. Yes to all of you.   Bring all of you forward now. Let it rush forward and leap into the air and fly high above what you've known forever. Let it soar upward and catch the sun. Let it fall where it may.   Let your life change. Let it shift into something far greater than you've ever imagined. And let it be. Let it all be perfect as it is.   So I'm saying goodbye. To the parts of me I've known forever and now no longer need. To my everyday routines that have kept me safe for months on top of months. To the relationship that I thought would last. To the home I manifested and now know it no longer serves me. To the friends and clothes and music and energy I no longer connect to.   Now I extend a hand to you. A hand that says yes, to you too.   Yes to your breath and your life and your decisions and bold beautiful actions that will propel you forward into the beauty and richness and glory of you.   If it's time for you to make that bold decision, then let's do it together. We'll take action and move forward and you'll have the support you need to not do it by yourself. It can be a little scary by yourself. You don't need to go it alone.   I offer to you 30 days of email coaching in leading you through your bold beautiful choice. Click here for the full scope of what this would look like.   It's going to be awesome.        

Revelations and Evolutions…

We all need support.  We all have our days of feeling like we are alone in the world. Often times we look at other people's lives and we think, "Wow, they really have it together." I get that a lot.  People often remark at how they think I have all my ducks in a row and that I have created this perfect existence...but, I often find myself thinking the same thing of others. This comparison is how I blew everyone out of the water when I went through a divorce. Even my husband had no idea how unhappy I was. He didn't even know who I was. Down deep. He never looked. He never listened. Not like I needed him to.  Not like someone else could. While in high school I fell in love. Not the high school love most think of. I fell in love with a soul that I could feel. I remember thinking how beautiful I thought she was. It went far beyond her cascading chocolate curls and intoxicating eyes that were filled with dreams too hard to dream. I admired her talents. Even her faults were endearing. Some elements were heartbreaking.  I had my own. Who was I to judge. Judgement wasn't something shared between our hearts. Instead of chasing boys and getting into trouble. We had a most wholesome friendship. A youth that she didn't get to experience in any other part of her life. For she was called to grow up too soon. In between classes and work, I was dreaming of my college years and this perfect outline of how it would all lay out for myself.  I had it all on a timeline. Down to the letter. Scheduled deadlines for graduation. Love. Career. Babies. 3. First a girl, then fraternal twins. I had names selected. (Because father's didn't care about that anyway, at least, my babies father would let me pick. Certainly.) See what I mean. All laid out. Like my outfits for the next week. Perfect! In between, her life was something much heavier. I felt it. Didn't recognize it, because it was not something that I could even fathom. One day we were enjoying each other's company. Testing each other's spanish vocabulary. Discussing Sociology class. The next, I went to her house and she was gone. Gone. No one answered. And for years, I lost my friend. I lost a little bit of my soul that I had shared with her. Those little bits of ourselves that we only share with the most intimate of relationships. A naked intimacy that had nothing to do with clothes, but everything to do with what we hide. She was gone...and so was a part of myself. Our lives unfold, unravel...and all come together again. I picked her up at her hotel from a work conference this week. My life was chaos, but nothing was stopping me from finding her again. Finding myself. Almost twenty years later. What will she think of me? How should I tell her about my life? It won't be my resume she is looking at, but an unpressed, stressed, divorced, two kids, floundering, building a dream and trying to hold-it-all-together kind of me. Then I saw her... I could feel the tears welling up as I saw her standing in the loading entrance at the Airport Courtyard Marriot.  I couldn't wait to get out of the car and squeeze her. More beautiful than she could have ever been. More beautiful for the wisdom bestowed upon her. More beautiful for holding my heart in such a peaceful space within herself for all these years. This is what friendships are made of. We unfolded our lives, the "lost" twenty years, over a far-too-short lunch. An afternoon cut short by lifelines and deadlines and school pick-ups and flights booked. But, a remembrance...and embracing, of a new beginning for us. Her story was hard for her to retell, relive. Bring to life in the eyes of a friend.  But, when you share such stories with someone that has held your heart so long...they already knew. I already knew.  My heart did. I was sorry that I hadn't been able to do more to protect a friend from the evils of the world. But, it wasn't my story.  It was hers...and it brought her to who she is today.  My trials have brought me here as well.  Revelations and evolutions. What we choose to become, build up in a decision based in love and fear.  Sometimes, it is a bit of both. Sometimes we dwell with the fear for so long, that love is the only thing that can pull us through. After an afternoon filled with laughter, memories and tears, taking her back to the airport was one of my hardest experiences. "I can't lose her again", I kept thinking. She makes me whole. Feel understood. Just to sit here with her. I can't lose that. Fear. I had felt whole with her that afternoon. I had found a missing piece. I had wanted to hold her hand, touch her in some way the entire day. Kiss her on the mouth and drive off into the sunset.  Somehow merge our lives. Here. Right now! Out of nothing but pure light. Love. This isn't a tale of romance. This is the purest of friendships. Raw. Honest. Unyielding. Someone that doesn't care about your resume or who you are on paper. Doesn't care that you haven't checked everything off your list. Someone that knows you from a place far deeper than your skin. This morning, she sent me a text:
I'm sitting here wracking my brain to find someone else who has played that role in my life of girlfriend and confidant and...well hunny, you're my only Thelma and Louise kind of girlfriend.
Who knows how long I will save her text. When I sat down to lunch with her I handed her photos we had taken of each other in 1994. Over the years I would bring them out and relive our joys. And wonder...about her; wishing her well. Some people touch your heart. Some think they know it. Some people you let take a little bit of it with them. I let her keep my heart...and I still hold a bit of hers. Maybe in her moments of self-doubt, she can see herself through my eyes.  Feel her power with my heart. I offer her my strength and I know she would do the same for me. Sometimes you just need to feel like you aren't alone.  That the troubles you have witnessed aren't only yours to shoulder, but that you have soldiers to protect your heart, your soul. Sometimes you just need a connection that doesn't take words to establish. Something you can feel. Something that feels like your truth. And, sometimes... "Just Go..."
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