Emerging

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I love women’s circles. I’m sure you’ve noticed. I am leading a new Sunday circle once a month as well as a monthly moon circle. These new circles allow me an opportunity to explore ritual in a new way. To connect with women in a new way. To expand and empower the circle of women in this community. To witness their healing and their growth. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is the work I am here to do. In this lifetime. At least for this part of my life. I am divinely guided.

I have been leading circles for a while now. I think the first one was in 2017. Like all good things in my life, I started from a place of “that’s stupid and I’m never doing it.” It started like this. After a completely uneventful morning meditation, I opened my journal to write. What came out onto the pages was so bizarre. I wrote that I was going to gather women. I was going to create a community of women. This was bizarre for a number of reasons. The first one being that I didn’t really have women friends. I had an AA sponsor and women I had met here and there in yoga, but these were the days when I really didn’t like or trust women. We certainly didn’t hang out. So WHY would my journal say that I was going to gather women in a group? Why would I do that? And what was I going to do with them? How would that even be possible?

I decided that was stupid and I was never doing it, closed my journal and went on my way. But the seed had been planted. And it took root fast. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not because I wanted to do it, but because it was just so strange. Never did it occur to me that it was divinely inspired. I wasn’t there in my faith yet. I didn’t know or understand intuition. I began to research (Google) how to gather a group of women. I dropped a bunch of money, signed up for circle facilitator training, and realized pretty quickly that all of this moon circle stuff I was learning were things I already knew and was already doing. I didn’t finish that training. Instead, I rented space at Hearts and Sol Wellness, posted the details of the circle I was going to lead and showed up on the night of the New Moon. And there were 21 women who showed up for that circle. This was the Universe showing me exactly HOW I was going to gather the women. I see the WHY in every circle. To change the world.

Last Sunday I led a women’s circle. The topic was Emerge. We talked about spring approaching and the new life that was emerging within us and all around us. There was a beautiful ritual that represented the emergence of these women from their cocoons and into the world. But I don’t participate in these rituals while I am leading them. And while I was excited for the expansiveness I am feeling and the new life Southport has given me, and this confidence that is absolutely growing within me, I wasn’t sure what was emerging next. And then I drove home.

On the way home I felt the nudge. A women’s retreat. I have led retreats before, for friends. On Bald Head Island. In the mountains. The year I got my yoga teacher certification I led a women’s yoga recovery retreat. But those were all small and didn’t really require much from me. This felt different. And if I am honest (which I always am), I was slightly terrified to drop the money on the property because what if nobody signed up? I told myself if I could find a cool ass woman to come on board and cook plant-based food for us I would do it. Enter The Holistic Hipster.

On Tuesday I booked the property. On Wednesday I threw the idea out to the world. On Thursday I opened the retreat for registration. On Saturday morning it was FULL. (As a side note, I opened the bonus spaces and there are now two available). It happened so fast. And it’s so exciting to know that I am doing what I am here to do. To the person on the outside looking it, this might seem simple and silly and perhaps insignificant. But to me it’s a big deal. It comes back to trust. Never my strong suit. Learning to trust myself, my intuition. To trust that I am being divinely guided. My lesson in this lifetime. I’m sure there are others. Of course, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if nobody signed up. I’d be out some money and I would have a fabulous time in the mountains by myself. But instead, I get to lead an amazing retreat experience for a wonderful group of women. I get to teach them things they haven’t been exposed to yet. I get to share new experiences with them. I get to sit with them in what is essentially an extended circle. To hear their stories. heir vulnerable heart shares. To witness their tears, their laughter, their strength. THAT is the experience I’m in love with. It’s powerful and life changing. We are changing the world every time we gather. Starting with ourselves. And I am here for it. I am honored and grateful for the opportunity. Honored, grateful and excited for what’s next.

Expansion. And other things.

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That moment when you sit down to MAKE yourself write because you have been away for so long, but you know you are going to word vomit BECAUSE you’ve been away so long, but also fuck it, because you just need to write on your blog. Of all the practices I have, writing has been with me the longest. And it’s exactly the one I abandon first. When I need it most. Writing connects me to ME and sharing it connects me to others. Both are medicine to me.

There can’t possibly be a single person living on this planet whose heart isn’t breaking open every single day. Wait. There can’t be a single AWAKE person on this planet whose heart isn’t breaking open every single day. Note that I didn’t say woke person. I mean the person whose eyes and hearts are open. The person who isn’t numbing themselves out. And let’s be honest, we are ALL numbing ourselves out a bit. If we weren’t, this world would be too much. In fact, as I sit here, forcing myself to write, I am working hard to not pick up my phone and check my notifications which would absolutely offer a distraction.

That’s kind of my go to for distracting. And by “kind of” what I really mean, is that it just is. I led a women’s circle last week and asked the question “How do you distract yourself? What activities do you engage in to numb yourself out and what can you do differently?” And then, as I went to lock up the studio, I noticed my phone was missing. My phone that had been right beside me all evening. My phone that I used to take a picture of our hands at the end of circle. Just gone. Isn’t it funny how the Universe messes with us like that? Immediately. And I KNEW exactly why that phone had disappeared. I got it back the next day, but I got my technology break handed to me in a big way.

Let me clarify that there isn’t a damn thing wrong with a little distraction and numbing out. I find it to be necessary these days. I am mostly awake and aware and paying attention throughout my days and life is teaching me lessons. Life is teaching us all lessons. Hopefully. And sometimes they hurt.

I’ve had a lot of growth opportunities in the past few months and I FEEL like I have grown a lot. In my soul. Just to be clear.

As much as I absolutely did NOT want to move my business to Southport (all the way over the bridge), the Universe pushed me out of my comfort zone and into what felt like a whole new world. The property search involved a whole new level of trust that was at times a bit more than I had. But what I did have was a realtor/friend who kept reminding me that we weren’t going to get in our own with that doubt and fear bullshit. And so I kept coming back to trust. It was a process that involved so many parts and pieces and other people coming together at the exact right moment. The parts and pieces are one thing, but when it comes to other people, it can get iffy to say the least. And then. BOOM. At the exact right time, it was a go in Southport and it has been go time ever since.

I had completely forgotten how exciting beginnings are. I was so caught up in what was ending. Endings are sad and scary. Endings are full of uncertainty. My little world is clearly a reflection of the planet we are living on. There was a lot of sadness and fear involved in that move. But I kept trusting. Mostly. Then I’d forget. And be reminded to trust. And forget. On and on. Trust isn’t my natural state. But I landed in a great space in perfect time. And this new space has breathed life into me in such a big way.

After feeling so stuck for months and months, I have been able to tap into my creative energy again. I have moved out of the liminal space and back into life. Liminal space is a hard place to hang out. We have ALL been in stuck in liminal space in one way or another since the pandemic hit. And we have ALL been feeling that in one way or another. Hence the distracting, numbing and avoiding. But life on the other side of the liminal space I was stuck in feels amazing. I absolutely love being in Southport. (In case you were wondering.)

I was so sure when I left the island that I would be back in the spring. But the truth is, that was me being fearful of letting go and moving on. Afraid of what was ending for me because I couldn’t yet see what was beginning. I can no longer say that my intention is to open a studio on the island in the spring. Perhaps if the timing is perfect and everything flows effortlessly and easily and all signs clearly point me in that direction, then yes, I will roll with it. But honestly, I am enjoying where I am so much right now, that I don’t picture that happening. Right now I get the best of both worlds. Expansion AND rest. Community and solitude. If you know anything about me, you KNOW, this girl needs rest. I do all of the things with my whole heart. I do all of the things with all of the people. I have a lot of BIG energy. Until I don’t. Down time is important to me. Being in one place feels important to me right now. Unless that changes. Isn’t it wonderful to have options? I don’t expect Rebel Soul Yoga will be my forever. I expect it to be my right now. I am very much in love with my right now. AND….I have all sorts of dreams in my head about the future. I haven’t felt that way in a very long time and it feels amazing. Expansion was my one word intention for 2020, which seemed pretty hilarious once the pandemic hit and life was anything but expansive. But, it’s caught up to me in a big way this year. Not just in my business, but in my heart. In my soul. In my dreams.

I’m not crying. You’re crying.

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Last week I celebrated 8 years of sobriety. It even felt like an actual celebration this year, complete with cupcakes, donuts and coffee after yoga with some of my favorite people. This was followed by an afternoon with my son in Raleigh. A beautiful and perfect day. Especially since my children are the entire reason I got sober. I hear all the time that we have to get sober for ourselves, but that was not my experience. I got sober because my children deserved a Mother who was present and there for them. In no way did I think I deserved that for myself. That part came much later.

Sober anniversaries get me all up in my feels. Transitional times in general get me all up in my feels. And this is a really big transitional time in my life.

I opened Rebel Soul Yoga in November of 2017. Days before my 4th sober anniversary. I was super sober. I had been regularly going to meetings as well as practicing yoga and meditation for those sober years. I had a consistent journal practice and a ton of self awareness. But I was self destructive. And somehow I missed this. But my husband didn’t. And before I had the opportunity to destroy everything I was building, he suggested I go see a therapist and figure out what my problem was. I had been therapized plenty, but not as a sober woman. All of the therapy I had done up to that point was more to stabilize me and get me to the place of a sober life. But I hadn’t yet dug into the root causes of my addictions.

So I went to therapy and I discovered quite quickly what my problem was.

I documented quite a bit of what “my problem” was here on the blog. I’ll throw THIS out for you in case you would like a refresher. Complex trauma was my problem. And this started me on a healing journey that will never end. Because just when we think we’re finished, we aren’t. But if you know me, then you know when I start something I am ALL IN. I began to seek out every healing modality that was available to me. As I started to heal, I brought these modalities and teachers into Rebel Soul Yoga to share with the community.

Yoga. Meditation. Obviously. Nutrition. Breath work. Ecstatic Dance. Dancing Mindfulness. Qoya. Sound Healing. Reiki. Shamanic Drumming. EFT/Tapping. Chanting/Kirtan. Writing Circles. Healing Circles. Drum Circles. Women’s Circles. Inner Child Healing. Dream interpretation. Recovery. Tears. Joy. Love. So much love.

Someone once said in circle that when you spend time at Rebel Soul yoga, you will learn to cry and say the F word. And she was exactly right. Sounds awful, but it’s awesome.

An entire community of people healed so much here. An entire community of people grew so much. But I don’t think anyone grew as much as I did in these past four years.

It was early on in therapy that I realized I had named my business after my inner 15 year old rebel child. The beauty in that is that the studio gave that child a place to heal. She learned to use her voice. She learned how to hold space for herself and then for others. She learned to be assertive. She learned to say no to the things she didn’t want to do and she learned how to say yes authentically. To the things that fed her soul. She learned how to stand up for herself and in turn, how to stand up for others. She found her power.

I’m not crying. You’re crying,

I’m not sad about moving out of the space. I am celebrating the fact that I grew as much as I possibly could in there. I am celebrating how much we all grew. It’s easy to see when I look at the people around me. People who have also found their power. I know that the Universe is pushing me to grow more. To take it up a notch to the next level. I have more tools in the toolbox this time around. As I start over, I am not starting from scratch. I am starting from experience. And oh my soul, I am a sucker for new beginnings. There is nothing I love more than a fresh start. Because absolutely anything is possible. Forward motion. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Disconnecting to Reconnect

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It’s been so long since I’ve been here. I’ve sat down with my laptop, opened up this blog and started writing so many times over the past few months. But then, for whatever reason, decided not to publish my posts. I have been cocooning and feeling very protective of myself, my energy, my thoughts and my feelings. I’m not sure where that is coming from, I just feel it’s important to honor it. Work is keeping me busy these days. The good kind of busy. The kind of busy doing the things that fills my soul. In my downtime, I just want to be home. The world opened up so suddenly that I don’t think my nervous system was ready for it. The island is FULL of tourists and my favorite thing to do is stay away from them. I appreciate seeing them in the studio and in my classes though. I just have zero desire to be in the traffic with them or on the beach with them. I say that knowing full well that I have no idea what REAL traffic is like. I am not a city girl nor will I ever be. I love people, but I love solitude. I crave it. In less than one month, my oldest son is going off to college and my youngest son will start 8th grade. In real school. Not the dining room school of Covid times. And just like that, I am going to have time in my house where I am all alone. I can’t even remember what that feels like. I just know how much I used to enjoy it. Please don’t get me wrong. I have loved the extra time I was given with my boys. I am grateful that we have every resource available to us and it hasn’t been difficult to feed my family, get school work done, or any of the other challenges that so many people have faced. My soul just needs silence and space. It’s a both/and situation.

Last week I got hit with a summer cold. This came on the backside of two insanely busy and full weeks. I am certain the Universe was telling me to stop. To slow down. To be still. I stopped. I had no choice. I picked up a new book I had just bought and went to bed with it. The book was Cultish: The Language of Fanatacism. If you are fascinated by the language of cults like I am, this book is must read. Then I proceeded to go down every cult rabbit hole mentioned in the book. I watched so many documentaries, read so many articles and added so many more books to my online shopping cart. After spending time on the phone with a friend, sharing all of my new cult knowledge, she assured me that watching and reading all that was probably the exact reason I was still sick. She probably wasn’t wrong, and so I switched gears. Kind of. I started watching all of the Netflix shows I could find about the Orthodox Jewish community, After a solid day of this, I came out of the bedroom and declared to my husband that I wanted a Sabbath so I could tell everyone “Good Shabbos.” If you know the man you know the look he gave me. He told me I was ridiculous and 1. I wasn’t jewish and 2. I am not allowed to walk around saying Good Shabbos and 3. I was being ridiculous. Which I probably was. But also, I felt like I was on to something.

After our conversation, I went downstairs to my Fortress of Solitude to find something new to read. I picked a random book off of the shelf of books I own that I haven’t actually read. I figured it was time to switch things up and move on from the cults and the Orthodox Jews. I went with a book on feminine spirituality. I opened it up right to the middle and THIS was the page staring back at me. Well, well, well. I hear you Universe. Loud and clear.

This is how Friday became my Sabbath. It may have come my way in the most ridiculous and hilarious way, but here we are.

Friday is the one day every week that I keep my schedule completely clear from all work activities. My one full day off each week. I fully get the ridiculousness of declaring “I need a Sabbath day” on the backside of an entire week of rest. But also, why not? Why not start now? When I woke up Friday morning, I turned my phone completely off. Maybe that’s no big deal for you, but it is a huge deal for me. Then, because, out of sight, of mind is a real thing, I put the phone in a drawer in my closet. Then I lived my life. The first two hours were weird and honestly it felt like the only thing I was doing, was NOT using my phone. But I quickly got into it and went about my business sans phone. I’ll be honest with you. It was glorious. It felt like freedom. No notifications. No distractions. It seems like an incredibly small thing, but it was an incredibly big thing. For me. This is the key piece to the solitude I crave. The piece that I have been missing. The things I worried about during those first two hours without my phone never happened. Nobody needed me. There was no emergency that only I could fix. My business didn’t suffer from my 24 hour technology hiatus. I answered the emails on Saturday instead of Friday. Brilliant.

I teach a lot about self care. About honoring our own needs. I am always in search of the balance that seems to be just out of my reach. The constant going and doing until it becomes too much followed by the crash and a period of retreat and recovery. This is my norm. It may very well always be my norm. But maybe not. This weekly day of disconnecting from the outside world to reconnect to my soul may just be the beginning. I have no idea. Maybe one day is enough. It’s a good place to start, for sure.

The AA post

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Someone recently asked me if it’s possible to stay sober without AA. I am here to tell you that it is absolutely possible. I am NOT here to bash AA or to tell you not to go to AA or that it isn’t a wonderful tool, because it is. It really bothers me to see people trash a program that is free and accessible to anyone who wants it. For a lot of people, it’s the ONLY resource available. And if one is willing to do the work, it works. But so do a lot of other paths. I know a LOT of people who are in recovery and have never been to an AA meeting. I know a lot of people who have been going for years and continue to go because they love it. I have been on the fence about whether or not AA is for me for about three years now. It was great for me in the beginning. I think it’s a great place for everyone to start. It’s where I first found sober community. Community is so important. This is true for everyone in recovery of all kinds. Not just addicts and alcoholics. It’s extremely helpful to have someone who has walked the path before you and can help you navigate a new way of being in the world. Recovery is scary. I can’t imagine how hard it has been for the people getting sober since the pandemic hit. The meetings stopped and everything went on Zoom. My hat is off to anyone with a 2020 sobriety date. That never would have worked for me. In early sobriety I needed to have my ass in a room full of people that I didn’t want to be with, hating everyone in front of me. But that’s just me. AA is not the end all, be all that it once was. Technology has changed what sober support looks like for so many people. I think if you are out there living life and loudly sober, anyone who cares about you can be your sober support. Instagram has a ton of sober accounts and ways to connect. There are apps to connect you and guide you, online coaching programs, FB groups, online programs with meetings and tons of other meeting type programs that aren’t AA. I used to be big on telling people to find a path and stick to it. Now I feel like that’s not the best advice and one should find what’s working for them right now and stick with it. But as we grow, our needs change. What was once a lifeline, might not seem that way anymore. And it’s OK. That’s where I am with AA today. There is a lot of fear around leaving AA and it comes up often in a lot of the groups I belong to. We don’t hear about the people who make it out and live a wonderful life. We are taught in AA that when we stop going to meetings, we will relapse. Of course plenty of people stop going to meetings and do relapse. Also, lots of people stop going and live happy, sober lives. There shouldn’t be fear or guilt involved around leaving. Period. In the past year I went to three meetings. I am in no jeopardy of relapsing. My entire existence supports my recovery. The majority of my friends are not in recovery. But they also do things with me that aren’t centered around alcohol. Because they love me. Truth be told, I built the community I needed because it didn’t exist. In the beginning I built a small community of people to meditate with me. A community to sit together in silence every week. Because that’s what I needed. As I grew, I needed more in my life and so I kept finding more. What I couldn’t find, I created for myself. That community has grown and evolved. That community supports and sustains a LOT of women. Not just me. It was never really about me. Isn’t that beautiful? We always know what we need if we are willing to slow down and listen. Now that Covid restrictions are lifting, and I am scheduled to have my second vaccine, I may go to a few more meetings strictly because there are people there who I have missed and would love to see. But I also might just go to lunch with those people. Because at this point, it’s all the same to me. That’s not how it was those first few years and I wouldn’t be here without AA. I know this to be true for me. But many people do just fine without it. Recovery is never one size fits all. We are all different and beautiful and unique and we all get to decide what works for us. As far as AA goes, I will always tell people who ask me about it that it is a great place to start. Also, I know me so even if I think I am leaving, and I might, I’ll also always keep a foot in the door because when I do show up, it still feels a lot like coming home. There’s no rule that says I have to go every day/week/month. I also suspect that as Covid restrictions start to lift, a lot of new people will be rolling into those rooms. The amount of Covid related alcohol consumption I see on social media is ridiculous. But that’s another blog for another day.

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.

Within

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On January 1st of this year I sat on the beach for sunrise. I have done this every year since I got sober. It’s way more important to me to see the first light of the new year than it is to stay up until midnight. I’m sure there have been some years that I’ve done both. Not many. I like my sleep. This year it was raining when I woke up on New Year’s Day. Pouring actually. I’ve never meditated in the pouring down rain. There have been years where it was drizzling. Freezing. This year it was warm. My best meditation friend who has been there with me from day one had thrown out the idea earlier in the week that perhaps we needed a back up plan. But I am stubborn. And I only meditate on the beach on the first day of the new year. That and the fact that I had shared the info so far and wide on social media that I couldn’t undo it. And then, magically, as I was loading up my car to head to the beach, the rain stopped. I was joined by a handful of people and at 7 am we closed our eyes and began to meditate. It’s just a 20 minute meditation. That way anyone and everyone can join in without feeling overwhelmed. When the time was up, there was no magnificent sunrise. It was still very cloudy. Not that I was expecting a bright sunrise. I was just happy that for the most part, the rain stayed away. When I turned around there was a large group of people sitting with me. With WE. People came after we started and joined in. It was a beautiful crowd and it filled my heart to see so many people on such a questionable weather day. Normally on this day I would follow meditation with 108 Sun Salutations in the yoga studio. But this is no ordinary year. And 108 Sun Salutations is an intense practice that I wasn’t willing to do with a mask on. I suppose I could have practiced by myself, but I wasn’t feeling that. One of my friends asked me to plunge into the ocean with her and another friend after meditation. This seemed like a reasonable alternative to the 108. I told her I would only plunge with her if we could hold hands like lovers and run Baywatch style into the ocean. Her reply? Fine. But her reply sounded like a heavy sigh as she said FINE, so be sure your read it that way. I love my friends and their bad assery as well as their willingness to let my silliness shine. Five of us ended up plunging that morning. It was warm out and it wasn’t nearly as horrible as I had imagined it would be. I learned a thing or two that morning. Don’t wear fleece pants into the ocean. Fleece gets heavy when it’s wet and the pants won’t stay up. Maybe that’s it. Just one thing. I learned one thing from that. Next year I won’t wear fleece.

But here comes the part that I am really here to share with you.

After we dried off, I went to my car and cranked the heat. I was sitting there getting warm as people were coming off the beach and heading home. I rolled down my window to say “see you later” to a dear friend. She mentioned that she was heading home to have mimosas with our friend who was also leaving the beach. And this is what I heard. “We are ALL going to my house to have mimosas and it’s going to be the most fun day ever but you can’t come because you don’t drink.” It was such a weird reaction for me because this doesn’t happen to me anymore. Sure, when I was newly sober, I always felt like I was missing out. But today, it just isn’t that way. But on that morning, I drove home knowing everyone was having all the fun without me. Never mind that I had just done exactly what I wanted to do with so many cool people. Never mind that I just had this amazing spiritual experience. In that moment, I was driving home to be boring while everyone else drank mimosas. And I felt sorry for myself. I was sad. I spent the drive home playing through the actual facts. Everyone didn’t leave to go drink mimosas without me. Two people were drinking mimosas. I only ever drank mimosas as a segue into bloody mary’s which were just a segue into the vodka. Mimosas in the morning meant I would be hammered by noon. Worthless by dinnertime. And God knows where I’d be by 9 pm. Several of my recovery friends were meditating on the beach with me that morning. I know they weren’t going to have mimosas without me. By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was laughing at myself for the way my mind had spun that one comment into “everyone is doing this wonderful thing without me.” Fear of Missing Out. Where did that come from? My friends didn’t specifically plan to not invite me. And even if they did, so what? Mimosas aren’t part of my life and I honestly appreciate that everyone who cares about me knows and understands this. I hear people talk about drinking all the time and it hasn’t hit me like this one did in such a long time. It just took me by complete surprise. Which is why the AA literature calls alcoholism “cunning, baffling and powerful.” I think it’s as simple as that. This is NOT something that I battle daily. I wouldn’t have the strength for all of that. That’s not living. However, it is something that I think about daily. Recovery is such a part of me that it touches my life in some way every day. I love this.

Moving on.

I pick a mantra word at the start of every year. I usually write a blog specifically about this. I guess this year I am not. The word always chooses me. I never choose it. This year my word was a bit slow coming to me. Or, rather, I was a bit slow picking it up. Within. My word for 2021 is Within. As in “I have everything I need within.’ As in “The answers I seek are within.’ As in, “Listen to the still, small voice within.” I have kicked up my meditation practice and I started “The Listening Path” by Julia Cameron. I LOVE her so much. And I am listening. And this is what I’ve noticed. I am distracted. By my phone. Grrrrrrrrrr So now I am doing a 10 day Detox from my phone. Because I have noticed that I have the thing in my hand way too much. It distracts me and steals my precious time. I have known this for years. I have an app for every fucking thing. I even have an app to help me detox from my phone. Which seems counterintuitive, I know. I am on day three and to be honest, I think more than anything, it’s about me finally being ready. I use the excuse that “I have to be on social media for my business” which is somewhat true. But there are ways to effectively manage that time online. I fully expected to feel the Fear of Missing Out, but instead I am already noticing another thing that is completely different. Freedom. I’m not needed in the world of social media. I don’t have to react and respond to everything my friends do. I’m not missing out on the things that are actually important because the things that really matter come to me in a more personal way. With a phone call or a text. It’s not just about social media. But that’s the biggest piece for sure. I’m never leaving. Don’t let your mind go there. LOL Social media is a positive part of my life for the most part. There is a mindful approach to it that I haven’t been practicing. Moderation has never been my strong suit. I want to be able to leave my phone behind when I get up and walk into the next room. That’s where I am. It’s quiet simple. I no longer wish to be attached to my device. I don’t have to respond to every text and email immediately. That’s the beauty of technology. It will be there when I have time to respond. Don’t expect to never see me on social media, because that’s not me. I will never be one of “those people” who announces their departure. And I’ll probably never be one of “those people” who departs at all. Because social media is great when it’s used wisely. I just no longer wish to be attached to it or to my phone. It’s taken me years to get here. Years of knowing. And finally listening.

The most beautiful thing

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Last week I spent a couple of days away from home. A friend of mine had surgery on her eye and I stayed with her to drive her and take care of her. She’s fine now and it was lovely spending that time with her. While I was there a young lady posted on my FB wall. A beautiful young lady who is beginning her sober journey. She wanted to share with me because she says I inspire her. I sent her a message right before I went to bed that night. I wanted her to know that the inspiration flows both ways. This is a young woman who has traveled the world solo. That is total bad assery right there. This is a brave woman who is completely capable of amazing things. I have no doubt that if she wants to be sober, she can do that too. She comes from a long line of strong ass women. I sent this message to her and then I went to sleep. Which might have been what got my dreaming mind spinning.

When a person is in recovery, it’s normal to have using dreams. Relapse dreams. I have them every so often and I never enjoy them. In this dream I was with a friend. We were out in the world somewhere, but I’m not exactly sure where. Some sort of party or event. I was trying to take a picture of us, but I wasn’t able to hold the camera and push the button at the same time. Because I was too drunk. She told me to just let her do it. This immediately made me feel some type of way. If you know me then you know I thoroughly enjoy taking pictures and NOT being able to do that hit me in a weird place. And I felt it in my dream. Then my friend, the one I was staying with, appeared in my dream. She told me how much fun she was having, dancing like she hasn’t danced in years. There was dancing and I had missed it. It occurred to me that I had been blacked out. I didn’t want anyone to realize that I was drunk and certainly not that I was THAT drunk, so I pretended to know exactly what she was talking about. I was lying in my dreams just like I did when I was drinking in real life. All of the same feelings were coming up for me too. It felt truly awful. So many people I know and love kept floating through. My yoga teacher was there. The special family of Rebel Soul’s that I’ve collected through the years in the studio. And, as always, my AA friend Dave who is 12 days behind me on the sober anniversary schedule was there. He always appears in my drinking dreams because somehow, in my mind, I have to beat Dave. When I am drunk in a dream, Dave is always “winning.” It’s ridiculous really.

I woke up with that “oh thank God it was just a dream” immediately followed by the “what the fuck was that?” feeling. Anyone in recovery is familiar with these dreams and the emotions they bring up. Relapse dreams are a part of sober life. When I woke up that morning, I shared the dream with my friend. We decided it was the message I sent before bed that set off my dreaming mind. I left her house that morning. It was Christmas Eve.

On the drive home I was feeling immense gratitude for this friend. For her heart. For her wisdom. Just so grateful for our connection. And then my mind drifted to home. To my boys who would be so happy to see me. To my daughter who would be coming over later that day. To my Leon who no doubt missed me the MOST for the two short days I was away. And again my heart filled with gratitude for ALL the love in my life. I was in tears. The good kind. The my life is an endless flow of love and it’s amazing tears. It occurred to me how different this particular Christmas Eve drive home was to the one I wrote about recently. (It’s right here if you missed it.) It really is amazing how much things change when we do the work. Then my mind went back to the dream. I thought about every single person who appeared in that dream. They all had one thing in common. Every person in that dream is ONLY in my life because I am sober. These were all people that I was never going to cross paths with in the drinking world. Ever. Because that world was small. Just wow. That realization hit me right in the feels and the grateful tears came again. I will probably never get used to this. When I was drinking, I didn’t notice how small my world was. Because I wasn’t paying attention.

Sober life is expansive. Even in the year 2020 which has felt mostly constrictive, my world has expanded. I know this because Expansion is my mantra word for the year. Hilarious, right? I have laughed about this so many times because the year has felt extremely constrictive. The exact opposite of expansive. A blog for another day. Soon. I have spent less time writing this year, and yet this little blog has landed in 79 countries. Probably because of Covid, and the fact that emotions, feelings and realities have been so amplified this year, more people have reached out to me asking for guidance, resources and support. This isn’t my job, but if someone reaches out, I do consider it my responsibility to help them. When I get to witness the light come on in someone, it’s like nothing else. I get to see their world expand. It’s the most beautiful thing. I have a string of FB friends that I’ve met this way. It’s an honor to watch their journeys from afar. It’s by far my favorite thing about social media. There are just as many things to recover from as there are ways to recover. I always tell the people who reach out to me to just pick a path and stay on it. Whatever path feels right is the path that will lead you home. Always. Even when it’s scary. Especially when it’s scary.

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” – Anais Nin

Some of us have to die…

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In the rooms of recovery it’s often said that “some of us have to die so the rest of us can live.” I have never really paid attention to this. It’s just a standard saying that I never put much thought into. I have lost people that I love from addiction, but never considered that they had to die so I could live. My ex husband died from an overdose. The biological father of my two oldest children. I am very familiar with loss. If I let myself sink into it, I can get really sad about it. Because he missed so much. I can easily get caught up in the what if’s. In the “if I knew then what I know now, I could have saved him” mindset. And maybe that’s true. But I didn’t know then. When I entered recovery I heard people in meetings say “get ready to go to a lot of funerals” or something to that effect. But really, I didn’t believe it because who dies from drinking? I identify as an alcoholic. Because, for some reason, that’s important in meetings. I am and will always be an addict. My drug addiction was so bad that it almost killed me by 23 years old and when I got clean, I was DONE with that life. Never did it occur to me that I could be an alcoholic. Until I could no longer deny that I was. But it also never occurred to me that people I loved would die from alcoholism. Because who does that?

The year I got sober, my cousin did exactly that. She was younger than I am now. I had been asked to speak at a women’s AA speaker meeting on the same day of her funeral. I chose not to attend her funeral and instead carry out my commitment to speak. I couldn’t help my cousin, but maybe I would share something that could help a woman in that meeting. Nobody realized just how much my cousin had been drinking. After she passed, her husband found bottles around the house that she had hidden. She must have been terrified. I know her body was giving her signs that it was shutting down. But she couldn’t not drink. She must have felt so alone. Her death was definitely a message to me to stay sober. I went to meetings and talked about it, and I am sure someone said “some of us have to die so we can live.” But it was lost on me what that meant. The real meaning behind it. It was all just words.

Earlier this year I lost another friend. This was a woman I had sponsored in AA. When I arrived in meetings, still drunk and spewing hate, this woman was there. Always with a smile and information about AA and all the things I needed to know. She was the first to give me her phone number and the first to be there for me when I needed someone to talk to. But I bounced in and out and didn’t stay in close contact with her. When I finally arrived in AA for real, sober and ready to do the thing, she wasn’t around. In my mind she had moved on with her sober life. Because also in my mind, everyone in those rooms had been sober forever. I spent those first few years of recovery changing everything about myself. Discovering who I was without alcohol and building a brand new life. A beautiful life. And one day about 4 years into my sobriety, she showed up. She had not been out living her best life like I had assumed. She had been out drinking. For years. She was blown away by how much I had changed. She started coming around regularly and we spent a lot of time talking. She asked me to be her sponsor. This is a woman who had been in and around AA for a LONG time. She had put together many sober years in a row, but just couldn’t manage to maintain it. She knew the literature way better than I did and if AA was a class, she would have passed with an A+. She knew it in her head way better than I ever will. But for some reason she couldn’t stay sober. I agreed to be her sponsor, which just means that I would take her through the 12 steps and be a sober support person for her. My only requirement was that she was always honest with me. And she was. I attribute meditation and yoga to my recovery just as much as I do AA. I suggested these tools to her and she was eager to jump in and try them. She too was ALL in and bought herself every prop possible for yoga as well as a meditation cushion and alllllll the books about the two. I spent a year with her sharing every tool I had. Every tool that worked for me. I encouraged her to find her own things as well. She joined a gym and got a personal trainer. She learned how to wrap crystals and make beautiful jewelry. She danced with me every chance she got and she even tried Kirtan, as weird as that was for her. We journaled and made vision boards. We went through the steps together. And she was joyFULL. A quiet joy as she was a quiet soul. But joyful just the same. It was so beautiful to witness. She made it to one year and then I’m not sure what happened. She lost it. She began drinking again. Off and on. Mostly on. I wanted her to be sober so bad. I wanted to see the joy on her face that I had seen when she was sober. But I didn’t know what else to do. I continued to work with her for a while. Encouraged her to be just start over. But she wasn’t getting sober. So I let her go. I promised to be her friend and sober support any time she needed me, but as a sponsor, I wasn’t the one. I had given her everything I had, taught her everything I knew and it wasn’t enough. I encouraged her to find another sponsor, because clearly, I wasn’t the one. We remained friends, although I rarely heard from her. She was drinking a lot and not contacting me. Then, in early August she called to check on me. The island had been hit by a hurricane and she just wanted to know that I was alright. It was 10 am and she was drunk. We talked for a while, she said she wasn’t doing well, and that she would see me soon. She was ready to get sober. One week later my phone rang and her name lit up on the screen. I told my husband I didn’t want to answer because I knew she would be drunk. I let out a grumble and I answered the phone. It was her husband. He was calling to tell me that she had suffered a massive heart attack and wasn’t expected to make it through the night. She died that evening. Her body could no longer handle the abuse. This one hit me hard. Not that I was all that surprised. We all expect these things. But I also expected to see her “get it.” Wanted her to ‘get it.” I had already seen it once, and it was beautiful. I went to a meeting the next morning and talked about it. The first person to respond said “some of have to die so we can live.” My initial thought was what an asshole thing to say. It felt like I had been punched in the stomach and for the first time, I understood what it meant. It means that I think of her when I dance, holding her in my heart and dancing with her. It means that while I am incredibly sad that she couldn’t get it, I have it and I am not willing to lose it. It means that I will keep writing these blogs for the person who needs to see them. It means that I don’t take one minute of this life for granted. It means that it could have just as easily been me. It means that I wake up each morning and choose recovery. I choose life. It means feeling all the feels and not numbing myself. It means being fully present in each moment, even the ones that suck. It’s life and it’s beautiful and terrible and everything in between. I choose it everyday.

She gave me this little figure for my birthday because it reminded her of me. She was always giving gifts and had the most beautiful, generous spirit. She is called Happiness. I think of her every time I look at it. I remember her joy. I picture her somewhere on the other side dancing with a little smile on her face and her arms stretched out. Feeling complete freedom. This is how I will always remember her. I am forever grateful that I got to experience those moments with her.