Choosing Healing

Even healers can be afraid of their healing…

Oh, how I’ve been aching for myself.

A pattern has emerged in this healing, loving, returning journey of mine back to me.

For the most part on this journey, I actively, courageously, mindfully choose love. I choose and I choose again, and in those times of consistent and powerful showing up for myself and in love and not fear, I reach a breakthrough. A breakthrough so potent and revolutionizing as to dismantle old, un-serving beliefs and permit a rise so completely anew in healing, in love, in bliss, in contentment.

My first reality-shaking breakthrough on this healing journey was forgiving my father for being human; and in doing so, restoring faith, communication and love, into 24 years of an otherwise broken relationship.

Forgiveness changed my and my father’s life and relationship with another, and it was the most liberating experience I’d endured yet. When his visit out in California was over and he left, I sunk deeply, even subconsciously, into a state of escapism and self-sabotage by drinking alcohol to excess, distracting myself with a partner with whom love did not exist, neglecting my self-care, my health, my self-love.

Five leaps forward and ten stumbles back. This resistance to healing continued for longer than I wish to admit, in my mind’s attempt to create more suffering in the wake of the rejuvenating healing that I had just allowed myself. Patterns.

Just a few weeks ago, I tuned in so deeply to myself that I ran the other way yet again. I sat gently and quietly enough to love myself back into remembering my life’s purpose.

The reason I am on this planet.

What I am here to share.

It felt good to know it, to return to it, to exhale and surrender to it.

And then, before I even knew what was happening, I found myself blocking out and engaging in various distraction and resistance techniques in attempt to un-see what I had seen. Truth.

Truth is scary. Truth is unavoidable. Truth will catch up to you and surface, no matter how far, how fast, how strategically you run. And once, and only, when truth– and self-awareness– are present, you can take monumental action.

Until you shed light and awareness in a space, you can continue living in ignorant darkness; to change a thought, behavior or state of being isn’t an option when you’re unaware of its reality.

But when you tune in deeply enough to reach a state of awareness and the truth reveals itself to you… now you have a choice.

You have a choice to do something with that truth– acknowledge it, accept it, work with it, act on it– or run the other way.

Last week, I ran. I ran in the same way I did after re-building my relationship with my father. And I’m finding all too soon that running doesn’t work for me. Running leaves me feeling empty, resistant, closed off, and fearful.

This week– today– I choose courage.

Today, I choose love, presence, faith, and surrender.

I know what I’m here for.

And I am here.

 

@leahlivefree Photography.

@skaythephotography.

 

I am here to break myself, and then others, back down to love: to soft, to water, to open flow.

I am here to guide myself, and then others, back to sacred empowerment, to wild, to connection, to knowledge. I am here to do this through nature.

I am worthy. I am whole. I am full.

@NicoleNConnelly Photography.

Tumbling (Making Purple)

Witchy Business

Photography by @EddieWorden

Birthday Dreams: Flowers & Potatoes

I woke up from a dream yesterday morning where I was losing myself in falling in love with another person. In the past of my reality, I have tended to do this. In my dream, I felt it coming, and while this person was incredibly special to me, I felt that I hadn’t connected with myself once in the time my lover and I had been spending together. I went for a drive in this dream-land and ended up at a small, charming flower stand where I parked and was met to my emotion-processing dismay by a mother and two young daughters who, unhesitatingly, hopped into my car to sing along to the pop song I had playing.

The woman sat beside me, her daughters in the backseat singing and giggling in their own la-la-land that is life before the treasures and trials of love and loss have occurred, and she looked to me and spoke. The woman asked me if I had a love-person in my life, and if they were at the root of the heaviness in my heart that she could feel coming off of me. I told her I felt I was losing myself and it saddened me. I told her that he was treating me, but I was still aching for my own love. In that moment I stepped outside of my car, leaving behind my new friends. I saw serene pools underneath white, Greek columns above and I felt compelled to dive into them. It was my turn to lack in hesitation: I dove into the first pool, traveling its distance underwater until I reached the other side, got out and dove into the next one. My dream-gut trusted the women in my car with all of my belongings, and I needed to be swimming and diving into these pools at the moment.

I was immersing myself in the third pool when the mother and daughters called to me. When I returned to my car, all of the doors were open and it was covered in flowers. There were flowers in every door handle and crack of the window, underneath the windshield wipers and on the roof of my car, and a woman was still walking in circles placing more petals and stems to add to the collection.

“Some days, it’s potatoes that they cover your car in,” the mother said, coming to stand beside me.

“Happy birthday, love,” she said.

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And with that, I began the first day of my 24th rotation around the sun feeling a little lighter. A little bit more self-aware. Incredibly immersed, and reminded to be fully diving into my self-love first. More than anything, I am grateful. I spent the first few hours of my birthday Saturday sobbing tears of joy feeling entirely overwhelmed by the magnificent amount of love in my life. This emotional overwhelm is not uncommon, and I embrace that part of me. I am grateful to have been touched by every one of you in this life-trek, and if I have ever looked into your eyes, know that I host unfaltering love for your presence no matter how close we are. I am grateful for my journey and pains and trials that have allowed me to feel such love and joy and light in this life. I am grateful for my truth and for learning to speak it. I am grateful for here and now. And of it all, I am endlessly grateful for all that this life is to continue offering me– be it flowers, or potatoes.

 

One Week in Patagonia: A Visual Post

Happy Earth Day, all! To celebrate, I am throwing it back to my South American journey this time last April, and the most breath-taking natural experience I’ve ever had. Almost one year ago to date, I spent a week camping and trekking through Torres del Paine, a national park in Chile’s region of Patagonia. It was the most rejuvenating and testing (both physically and mentally) 7 days I had ever experienced, and each day brought even more beauty than the previous.

My travel teammate and I traded in our late-nights for early mornings, our cell phone screens for glaciers, the weight and distraction of social media for our 85-liter backpacks and our own thoughts and, perhaps begrudgingly, our showers in order to bathe in nature’s silence and acceptance. The magnificent ability of our natural planet to heal mind, spirit and overall wellbeing journeys far beyond words. Alas, here is my attempt at capturing the majesty of this park, and our astonishing planet Earth, in a visual post. Enjoy!

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Day 1: April 5, 2016

Entering the Torres del Paine National Park at the tail of the ‘Q’ route. On this path we saw guanacos (relative of the alpaca) and wild horses, though I searched for mountain lions all week.

Day 2: April 6, 2016

The most vibrant and saturated blues and golds I’ve ever seen; this shot is of Lago Pehoé. This part of the trek offered unbelievably strong winds as we marched north into the park.

Day 3: April 7, 2016

Despite our sore knees, we hiked a little extra one afternoon to catch a glimpse of the beautiful Glacier Grey. By the time a gentle snow flurry began, I was in awe and in tears.

Day 4: April 8, 2016

In beautiful irony, the soundtrack to this pale and delicate sunset were the thunderous sounds of avalanches tumbling down mountainsides above our camp.

Day 5: April 9, 2016

One of my favorite days of the week was this one spent in the French Valley. It was also the most strenuous– think trekking 25 kilometers in one day with 85-liter packs on. Bless hiking poles!

Day 6: April 10, 2016

April meant autumn in the southern hemisphere, and we caught just the start of changing foliage in the park, despite celebrating Easter in the coming week.

Day 7: April 11, 2016

Watching the sun rise on the Torres del Paine is the ultimate reward and grand finale for the strenuous and breathtaking weeklong experience in the park. Kicking off day 7 at 6 a.m., we hike-raced uphill in darkness to watch Patagonia’s famous glowing sensation.

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I will never forget my experience in Chilean Patagonia. My week fully immersed in nature reminded me of our planet’s magnificent healing properties, among returning me to my true self. This Earth Day, let us marvel in all that our planet offers us and remain mindful that it deserves the same healing and protection in return, today and every day. This year, I vow to create some healthier and more eco-conscious habits. What sustainable changes can you make today?

My Earth Day 2017 vows for healthier & sustainable habits:

• To purchase my produce at local farmer’s markets
• To invest in a clothesline for natural clothesdrying
• To unplug electronics from outlets when not in use

Forgive To Fly

Let’s talk about forgiveness. Not too long ago, I was in a darker place. I was not surrounding myself with kind, insightful, loving thoughts, and that reflected in the life I led, my notion of self-worth, my dreams and the low-vibrating, also struggling, like-minded company that I kept. I was stuck. And I knew the health of my well-being and spirit desperately needed to spread their wings to fly and soar into a space of love.

@Goodgrateful: With self-love, I found forgiveness. And now, I am soaring.

Fast-forward to my present, and Good & Grateful‘s blossoming in the beautiful San Diego. I found that space of love, but I did not find it in California. I found it in myself, though distance from the negative associations of my prior helped allow for my discovery.

There is an important distinction here in running from problems that are within, and removing oneself from an external environment that no longer serves us. I am sure, as I continue on this learning-journey, I will find that my environmental struggles were only mirroring my unhealed internal, as everything comes back to the self. I am sure, as I continue on this learning-journey, I will be able to return to those once-places of pain, and lend enough love to them in order to rewrite their scripts. That, I believe, is true growth.

But back to forgiveness. In this current life-chapter, I have focused intensely and intimately on self-love. I am, like many, often too hard on myself. I hold myself to unrealistic standards of perfection that only perpetuate a mindset of not being, and never being enough.

Intensifying healthy, loving scripts and positive mantras have helped me to shift my thought-patterns. Meditation, exercise and conscious eating have aided me in a newfound understanding of self-care. Treating myself magnificently, and humbly, remembering that I am the full moon as I am the mud that hosts the lotus, has taught my new company to honor, respect and love me in the same ways.

@Goodgrateful: The quarter moon on April 5, 2017, at Balboa Park.

“May we exist in muddy water with purity, like a lotus.” – Zen Phrase

But at the core of it all, I am relearning that we are all and only human. If we are the universe and the earth, then we are every piece of it. We are the full moon and the sun, as we are black holes and vast emptiness. We are the flowers and the trees and the ocean, as we are tornadoes and dirt and the tectonic plates that crack and shift. We are everything while we are nothing. We are light and dark.

A flower isn’t perfect with its curved stem or curling petals, but it is beautiful. The sunset is only as spectacular and special as the clouds that blur and shape it. We humans were not made to be perfect. We are breathtaking and magnificent only because we are not so.

In this space of love, within myself, I have come to forgive myself for my shortcomings, my mistakes and my pain of the past and current. I am freed from the suffering that I clung to for so many years. And remembering that I’m trying my best and that our best is all we can do has helped me to heal painful relationships of the past. I am able to forgive others and accept that they are on their own journey– one that I may never understand– and they are learning and trying, too.

Self-love has permitted me and encouraged me to break free from the past. I am ever-growing with deeper learning and loving, and I am ever-releasing myself as pain’s prisoner.

With forgiveness, I have tasted unwavering joy and contentment. My relationships with my self, and others, have peacefully heightened and become more enriching.

We are much less defined by the outcomes as we are the way we handled things in getting there, for it is never the destination: it is the journey.

And I plan to continue making this joyous journey beautiful: to be ever-learning, ever making mistakes, ever-falling and ever-getting-the-heck-back-up, gently and lovingly. And now, once again, I am soaring.

And now that I am here within myself, I can finally say:

I forgive you. I forgive me. I love you, and I love you, me.

@Goodgrateful: Sunset over Pacific Beach in San Diego, California.

To Be In Your Presence At All…

International Women’s Day (A flower requires)

@Goodgrateful: Wildflowers on Iron Mountain in Poway, California.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This week’s #humpdaypoetry goes out to all of the brilliant flowers in my life, and in the world. To you flowers, who have learned to seek your own light, nourish your own soul-soils and cultivate your own safe spaces of self-love. Happy #InternationalWomensDay! May we always be blooming.

 

The Magic of Living: Part 2

Part 2: How I’m Embracing, and Remaining My Inner “Yes Woman”

The waves were small and the water was chilly. The air was 50 degrees when my alarm went off at 7:20 a.m. I wanted so badly to snooze a little more until waking up to spend my day typing cover letters. But my surf partner and I went out into the ocean anyway.

And the universe rewarded us. Also playing in the small, friendly waves were none other than a pod of dolphins. After a solid five minutes of me slapping the water in disbelief, cupping my jaw-dropped face, paddling out closer to them, inquiring if their presence indicated that sharks were also around, whispering, “oh my god,” incessantly, and wondering why these so-called-waves had to be in my viewing way, I decided to do like my finned-friends and try and catch one, only to paddle back out and repeat the process.

I continued on this way for another 10 minutes. My poor surfing partner was probably experiencing his own disbelief in that someone could have such a reaction to a wild animal, but he tolerated it all the same.

Post-surf photo from March 3, 2017 shred session.

There were few others in the water to witness my enamor and accept the sea’s smaller feat, but after the dolphins left, one nearby surfer caught my eye. He was seasoned, with a white beard, turquoise eyes and tan, weathered skin. He paddled on his long board only on his knees and pursued each small but promising curl in the same manner he would have as if it was the biggest wave he’d ever seen. He reminded me of my father.

After a few catches and misses, I called over to him.

“That’s quite the paddle, I’m not sure I’m there just yet.”

The man laughed and told me it took years of practice. “You should turn next time,” he told me, in regards to my last attempted ride.

I learned that while a self-proclaimed surf-bum now, he was also an avid skier and climber in his years, and had worked as a guide in Switzerland, set rock-problems all around the U.S. while living out of a van for two years, has his Masters in Chemistry, was diagnosed with prostate cancer and now has it under control and spends his time living in San Diego funded by his work as a researcher and online course professor at Vanderbilt University.

I looked at my new friend in awe. “Well, I’m 23, I just moved here, I have a degree and no job at the moment. What advice do you have for me?”

Darrel looked back at me and though beginning with, “I’m not sure I’m good for dishing out advice…,” he continued, letting the gentle ocean-waves wash over his surfboard and nostalgia-waves wash over his memories.

“Don’t get into debt,” he said after a moment. “Don’t fall for the illusion of things. Don’t spend your money on a big, fancy car… You don’t need stuff. I had a fancy home and things all back in Nashville. I even have a closet of fancy things here that I never look in. I don’t miss it.”

A wave rolls by.

“Do it while you’re young. Be good to your body. Don’t drink hard alcohol, it takes a toll. If you want to have a beer every once in a while, all right. If you want to get high, smoke weed. But don’t smoke it, bake it. Bad carcinogens.”

We float over another set of baby ocean-movements.

“Get a lot of skin.”

“As in tough skin?” I interjected, in due parts because I’m soft as a flower petal and because I wasn’t sure that’s really what he meant.

“No. You know,” patting his wetsuitted-arms, “affection, touch, love. That’s science…

And if you don’t like something, don’t do it.

“And this.” He looked at the water around him and ahead of him. “Do more of this.”

And whether he had more to share or felt he was done, I’ll never know. Because my transfixed state broke when Darrell spun around faster than I might ever be able to to catch the wave that was upon us. I made it over and looked back to see if he had caught it. He must’ve, I thought, going after it with the same energy of a pro at Maverick’s.

But he hadn’t. And it didn’t make a difference to him, because he was already on his knees paddling back out to catch another.

He didn’t need to put that last lesson into words after all: go after life like you want it badly. Go after it with full force. Pursue it and lean into it wildly. And if you miss? Get up and try again.

So living my new life in San Diego, I will go outside. I will walk around alone. I’ll look up. Smile at people. Make eye contact. Engage in conversation. Say “hi” to strangers. Accept invitations. Invite people.

I will say yes. Say yes to life. Because when you start saying yes to life, life starts saying yes to you.

And just like that: magic had happened.

San Diego sunset March 1, 2017.

San Diego sunset March 2, 2017.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Be sure to check out the prequel to this piece– Part 1: How I Found My Inner Yes Woman.