Month: February 2021

Comfortable in my skin.

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What a difference a week makes. The sun came out. Of course it’s cold AF outside, so I am still in the house and never leaving. My sadness is mostly gone. I think. For now. It will return. I’ll be surprised by it again. Like always. And I will be sure that it’s never going to pass. Because this is how I operate. But I will write about it and be reminded that I am not alone. Thank you all for that. I am sure we are all doing our absolute best these days. Some days my best is better than others. On Friday I stayed in bed and read for 5 hours. The book was excellent. Then I watched a 3 hour documentary on Netflix. I feel great about that. Yesterday was watering day for my plants. I fertilized too. With stinky ass fish fertilizer. I think they loved it. I know I did. I repotted a few plants too. Because you need to know that. These little babies bring me much joy.

I received a random message from a random woman this week. A FB friend that I don’t actually know. A sweet message that made my whole day. She said that I seemed like a woman who is comfortable in my skin and asked if I could write a step by step guide on how to do that. I feel like that whole process is right here, strewn throughout this blog. But also, I never really had a plan when I started blogging so my organization is super scattered and she would have to do a lot of reading to piece the process together. I guess we can call that my lack of organization. I never really have a plan when I do anything. I just decide I want to do something and I do it. The “how” comes later, usually while I am doing the thing.

I am not and will never be the best yoga teacher. But I am really good at teaching people how to be in their bodies. Because I am obsessed with it. Not that it’s always comfortable. Because it’s not. Learning to be in our bodies takes time. And effort. And a bit of a fuck it attitude. And by fuck it, I mean exactly that. All of that nonsense that lives in our heads that gets in our way. What will people think? Fuck it. What if I look stupid? Fuck it. What if it doesn’t work? Fuck it. If that word makes you uncomfortable, fuck it. (I hope you realize how hilarious I am.) I once had a therapist that liked to say “Oh well.” She would follow that with a big sigh. It works exactly the same way. You can try that on if it’s less offensive to you. But, I know my readers, and you should all be fine with fuck it. Except for you Nanny. I love you! That same therapist also said a lot of fuck its.

To get comfortable in my skin I had to first spend a LOT of years being very uncomfortable in it. I spent the first 36 years of my life escaping my body in the normal unhealthy ways. Alcohol, drugs and sex. Until those things almost killed me. None of that was comfortable either. I was just numb. Until it stopped working. Those things always stop working and we can either find another way, or let it kill us. I chose to find another way. And it was uncomfortable to say the least.

Learning to be comfortable in my body was a process that began on a meditation cushion. Sitting still. It was awful. The voices in my head and the feelings in my body were too much. For the first few months I could only sit for a few minutes at a time. I literally wanted to rip my skin off. I felt so raw. Every bit of the things I had been using to numb myself were gone and all at once I could feel ALL of it. All the things I had pushed away. It was all right there in my head, in my chest, in my belly, in my back, in my body. Yoga saved my life. Practicing on my mat was a way for me to release a lifetime of stored up energy. Emotions. Trauma. Every single thing that I had pushed down was alive and well, right there in my body. Not that I knew any of this at the time. My yoga mat was a place for me to cry, grieve and rage, and eventually calm myself. I hated it. I loved it. I threw myself hard into the physical practice learning how to do the “fun” things with my body like inversions and arm balances. The poses that look cool. Not because they looked cool, but because when I challenge my body in this way, there was/is no room for my mind to wander. There is no past and no future. When I am doing a physically challenging posture, I am completely in my body. Present. And it’s glorious, if only for a few breaths. Yoga taught me to love my body and eventually, myself.

It’s been a journey and the list of things that have helped me get here seems to be endless. Amazing therapists. Inner child work. Shamans. Energy Healers. Women’s Circles. Solitude. All weaving together at the exact right time. It’s all here on the blog. Somewhere. Writing. So much writing. And sharing. The sharing piece is an important part of my process. When people connect to my words and I know I am not the only one to ever feel this way, it’s powerful. And here’s the thing. I am NEVER the only one to experience whatever it is I am sharing about. We are all so much alike in so many ways. We are all so damn human. We all struggle. Some people just pretend they don’t. Some things I write just for me and some I share with the world. I have shared some of my hardest truths on this blog. Scary, yes, but oh so worth it. The “what will people think of me” question still pops up for me. But I share anyway. Because fuck it. Oh well and all of that. Which would be the perfect end to this blog, but I have to keep going because DANCING. Learning to be in my sober body through dance has been so very healing. It’s one of those things that I assumed was over because I am sober. So glad I was wrong about that. These days dancing is saving my life. When I am feeling overwhelmed by emotions, I go to the studio and blast the music that heals my soul. I move and process and cry and calm myself. Or, I just dance. Fully present in my body, with whatever I am feeling.

I no longer numb anything. Which is why I was hating on being sad last week. Nobody wants to be sad. My go to these days is to pick up my phone and look at all the plants on the internet. I mean ALL the plants. Which is a fine distraction for a bit, but I have learned that eventually, I am going to have to sit with whatever it is that I am avoiding. I am going to have to process it in some way. Some healthy way. Apparently, It takes a lot to be mentally and emotionally healthy. Also, if you need help with your plants, I am your girl. I have learned so much!

The truth is that I AM comfortable in my body today. Most days anyway. Because I love who I am today. I’m comfortable in my head and in my heart.. I have fought hard to be here. And more than that, I am comfortable with people being uncomfortable with me. That’s where the real freedom is.

Sadness is my least favorite emotion.

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Never did I ever for one minute think we would roll into a new year and everything would magically be better. In fact, I have been saying for months that I fully expected and was prepared for a “dark winter.” I just didn’t know exactly what that meant and I didn’t expect it to affect me. A couple of weeks ago it started to rain. I love a rainy day. I sat on my bed with all of my books, my journals and the Netflix remote. I was in heaven and I was sure that I would be the type of person who could live in bliss in Seattle. But, by day 3 of the rain, I was over it. And it hasn’t really stopped raining yet. Not for any length of time. I’m still over it, but it’s still raining. I’ve been feeling sad for a few weeks now. In waves. Not a steady sadness. I think it’s grief. My grief. Collective grief. Covid grief finally catching up to my. My super power is building community. Covid has made that very challenging for me. And I miss it. Circles. Group events. Bringing people together. On February 1st, my community lost one of our Goddesses. The thing to know about this is that when we sit in circle together, there is an immediate bond. There’s an intimacy that happens in Circle unlike any other I have experienced. Women grow close in these circles. When I first started leading circles, I noticed how this happened. How when the circles were over and I was cleaning up, all the women would gather in small groups exchanging contact information and making plans for later. It made me feel left out. Lonely. I felt a bit like an outsider. Because I wasn’t a part of this. But I also understood that I didn’t have to be a part of that. I understood that wasn’t my role. I was the space holder. I AM the space holder. I am a connector. I bring people together. Another gift. Every woman who sits in circle with me isn’t my best friend. But, every woman who sits in circle with me is special to me. There’s a love there that I haven’t found anywhere else. It’s the loving and supportive community that I always needed but didn’t exist in my world until I created it. And it is beautiful. When we lost our goddess, it hurt. Funerals in Covid Time are weird. Just like everything else in Covid Time. Her funeral was small. The Pastor had this big, booming presence and was FULL of love. I could feel it radiating from him. There was no way not to be at ease in his presence. Honestly, he felt like Santa Claus. He turned her funeral into a celebration. A joyful celebration of her life. All of her friends who were there were from circle. Every single one of them. It filled my heart to see how she had found her community among us. I sat and noticed the other women who were there. I noticed that all of these women had connected through yoga or circles. Such a beautiful thing to see on such a sad day.

My inner circle is small. I don’t think people realize that. Or maybe they do. I don’t know. I am guarded and private in a sneaky way. I am slow to trust and it’s hard for me to let people in. If you know me, you know. My heart broke a little last month when my favorite friend told me she was moving to California. She has been on the fence about this move for as long as I have known her. This is a good move for her. She’ll be near family. Her soul will be settled here. But it happened so fast. This woman is unstoppable and fierce and capable of anything. Including packing her entire house up, selling it and moving clear across the country in 6 weeks time. She is goals in so many ways. She’s always teaching me without even knowing it. She told me she was busy packing, but until I saw her house a week later, I wasn’t sure I believed it. She leaves in 9 . She’s a “safe space” for me. I don’t have to share her with everyone I know. She’s a friend and not a follower. She doesn’t do social media. She doesn’t care how cool I am on the internet. She knows ALL of my shit and loves me anyway. I am so comfortable being me with her. I will miss that. I will miss her being near.

Sadness is my least favorite emotion. I’m certain it’s the hardest one for everyone. When it hits, I tend to feel dread and think it’s going to be with me forever. But it isn’t. It passes. You might think I would have learned this by now, but when I am in it, I forget. Every single time. You may remember that I “broke up with my phone.” We didn’t actually break up at all. I need my phone in my life. I am working on using it in a mindful way. It’s a process. I have noticed that when I feel sad, which has been a lot these past few weeks, it’s the easiest thing in the world to pick my phone up and distract myself. I was actually fascinated to realize that I was doing this. And it makes me think that I have been doing this for a LONG time. So now I am just paying attention to the why when I pick up my phone. Sometimes I need a distraction. After eleven months of living in a pandemic, we ALL need a little distraction from time to time. I have been using an app called Moment. It keeps track of my screen time and it counts how many times I pick up my phone. My favorite feature is the “gentle reminder” it gives me when I have have had my phone in my hand for 15 minutes. It’s a good reminder for me that there are other ways I want to spend my time. Right now, I find the reminders helpful. I am back to basics. “Chop wood and carry water.” Do the things, feel the feelings and live life. I never forget to be grateful. I have more happy moments than sad moments. “Welcome and entertain them all.” But this rain can fuck right on off.