Feeling the Feels + Pockets of Rest

With the full moon this week, I read this excerpt from my moon planner by Sarah Faith Gottesdiener and felt a full body YES: 

“There is a larger message for the collective around nervous system stewarding and healing. Move out of the story and into sensation and the body. Make space to emote, express, shake, and move the energy out of your system. Bonus points if you do so in a way that you were taught to repress. Whatever you weren’t “allowed” to be or do: messy, loud, joyful, out of control, or angry might be excellent expressions to experience. Let it all out.” -Sarah Faith Gottesdiener

This is exactly the invitation I offer in breathwork.

Sarah probably wrote this sometime last year and while it was true then, it feels so on point for now. I won’t list out all the horrific and tragic and heartbreaking things that are happening daily for us and the world because it’s already right there on our phones and TVs.

What I will say is how grateful I am to all the folks who showed up and contributed their heartbeats and breaths to community healing with me recently.

Like one of my other favorite writers, Andrea Gibson, said, “let your heart break so your spirit doesn’t.”

February was a month of group work for me. From my public community groups at Conscious Alchemy to private circles who invited me to be with their people. From a small private group of three to a mutual aid fundraiser of fifty, we allowed space for us to be with our humanity. Each group adds its own magic, wisdom, perspective, humor, and generosity to the experience and, WOW, what a gift to let it ALL out.

And it's taking the moments of care and rest in between the action and activism that’s essential. 

Speaking of rest, I’ve been thinking a lot about what that means and looks like! How do we stay grounded during these times? How do we tend to ourselves so we can still show up long term for the world we want to build? I found post from @brightblackcandle on Instagram helpful: 

My word of the year this year is GENTLE and I’m wanting to build, create, live, and act from a place that also gently cares for myself. So this list of micro moments of rest feels inspiring, especially when life is full and busy.

Here are a few things I’m also doing, in case one resonates with you:

-snugs, playtime, and walks with my furs. They are such lovers!

-keeping my favorite snacks and treats on hand so my body feels cared for

-rereading fiction books at night before bed because my brain likes the predictably

-receiving bodywork

-lifting weights 2-3x a week to channel anger

-Bricking my phone for extended social media breaks (more on this in another post!)

-coffee dates for real life connection

-watching women’s basketball for doses of joy

-keeping daily tiny promises to myself: taking my creatine, getting my steps in, journaling/pulling tarot cards, a few minutes of breathwork

It’s not always easy or comfortable or convenient to make space for the feels, sensations, and our body’s pace.

So, if my word of the year inspires you this full moon, let’s go together gently, shall we?

JOURNAL PROMPTS: 

-In honor of the full moon, what’s making my life feel full and alive right now in the best way?

-What small actions of rest feel doable and sweet for my body, mind, heart?

-In what spaces and with what people can I allow myself to have the full expression of who I am and what I’m going through right now? 

SONG FOR BEING HUMAN: Human by Brandi Carlile on Spotify

Human by Brandi Carlile on YouTube

Small Missings

I snapped this photo on one of my late evening walks when the lilies were still blooming and when it was still light out after 8pm.

 Around that time in the early part of summer, I was on one of these walks and I realized as I went past my neighbor’s house a couple houses down from us that it was the first time walking by since he passed earlier in the spring. He’d always be sitting out in his yard with his cigar and give me a wave with a holler anytime I walked past, "good looking dogs you have there!” 

Walking past that empty patio seat made me think of those small missings. 

You know, those small things in life that are part of your regular day to day and you don’t realize you’ll miss them when they are gone until they ARE gone.

Like, the gal at my favorite Saturday afternoon lunch spot who remembered our order because I go there every weekend with my mom and it’s been a little different since she moved to a new adventure in a new state.

Or like the trees and plants I used to walk by and take for granted until they were cut down to make the gas line visible and the new build possible.

Or like the Shepard pup who we nicknamed “Sarge” the day we moved into the neighborhood 8-ish years ago who would sit near the door and watch the world go by because his family kept the storm door open year round so he could see out every day. Now THEY’VE moved and when we walk by, I hope he’s living his best life guarding his new neighborhood street.

Those kinds of Small Missings.

I was reminded of this post I had started writing back at the beginning of summer because I went in to buy food from our local pet food deli recently to find a letter posted from the woman who faithfully worked there every day they were open. She went into the doctor thinking she had a hernia and it turns out it’s cancer throughout her whole body. And just like that, she’s no longer in the shop and on hospice care. I’d only see her for a few minutes every month or so, but I enjoyed her friendly energy and our short conversations about flowers, women’s basketball, the weather, and her house projects she was going to tackle when she had a stretch of time off. 

I guess the fall season is a great time to post about these little sadnesses because it’s the season of letting go, of harvesting, of gathering, of putting the garden to bed.

The missing means that there was meaning in those moments and holding space for that feels important to acknowledge. 

It’s dark now on my late evening walks and I’m taking a moment to feel grateful for all the small things that bring little rays of sun into this one precious life.

JOURNAL PROMPTS: 

-What small things in my day to day do I want to savor more intentionally?

-What changes are happening in my life right now and how am I feeling about it? 

-In honor of the season of releasing, what am I ready to let go of?

SONG I’M SINGING TO MYSELF IN MY CAR: It’s Alright by Garrison Starr on Spotify

It’s Alright by Garrison Starr on Youtube

*side note: I listen to a lot of music on my commutes for potential breathwork playlists for you… when I was belting this song out recently, I realized “oh, this song is for ME.” I hope you enjoy it. :) 

SONG FOR TENDING YOUR GRIEF TO: Somehow by The Band Willa on Spotify
Somehow by The Band Willa on Youtube

Let The Seasons Change You

Have you ever seen a phrase or an image and it strikes a chord right in your very being? Where, as soon as you see it, you can feel the resonance like a full body HECK YES, 1000%, no truer words hath ever been spoken?

This happened to me when I saw the phrase on this T-shirt in the Portland airport.

Let the seasons change you.

I was on my way home from my first of many weekends traveling to do more study of craniosacral therapy with Moving Mountain Institute. My colleague and I stopped into this little airport shop with really fun clothing, accessories, mugs, hair clips, jewelry, gifts. Seriously, so much cute and quirky stuff!

I saw this shirt and felt that ping of resonance saying “THIS. TRUTH.”

I didn’t purchase the shirt that day, but I couldn’t get it out of my head once I got home. I searched for it online and couldn’t find it.
(In fact, in writing this love note I found I had a started blog post draft back in March talking about this very topic and I was kicking myself for leaving the treasure behind!)
Thankfully, I was back in the Portland airport a couple weeks later and, as you can see, I scooped one up.

Now I get to regularly remind myself whenever I choose to wear this shirt to let the seasons change me, soften me, inform me, inspire me.

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I know I wax poetic about the seasons all the time and it’s one of my favorite things ever to host gatherings around the solstice and equinox transitions, so if you’ve been here in my sphere for awhile, this isn’t a new theme.

With capitalism and the push from productivity and constant growth front and center in the over-culture, it feels like we can’t talk about the pace of nature enough.

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When I was on a personal healing quest whilst living out in New York over ten years ago now, I read a book that opened my eyes to living life with the changing of the seasons and this has made a huge impact on how I like to live my life. Growing up in the Midwest, the switch in seasons is really apparent and there is already a natural change when things get to negative degrees, for example.

My siblings have spent some time living in Rwanda where the sun rises and falls at the same time - give or take 30 minutes - due to being so close to the equator. The seasons changing are a little less obvious there, which I find fascinating!

So despite already living in a climate that has very obvious season changes, I think what was enlightening to me was this idea of making it an intentional time to pause and check in with not only my external environment but also my internal world.

Yes, let’s pull out the thick wool socks and the crockpot. Let’s also see what ways my body wants to slow down and what from my mindset and energy needs to be composted with the veggie garden.

How can we let the pace, the nuance, the nudges of the natural world inspire us to live a little differently for a time?

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This coming Monday is the Fall Equinox. It’s the day where there’s equal parts day and night, where we get to take a moment to reflect on the balance between sunshine and shadow. Sunday is a new moon, so it’s also a beautiful time to set some intentions for the new season and cycle ahead.

Taking even five minutes to feel your feet on the ground, notice your breath, and ask your heart what it wants can be an impactful practice in letting the seasons change you.

As we move into autumn, I’m sending you lots of grounded, supported, creative, and soft energy.

XO!

JOURNAL PROMPTS:

-What perspective, memory, experience, or lesson from summer will you carry with you?

-What has worked really well for you recently? What’s not working so well for you?

-Is there something you are ready to compost, shed, or change right now? Is there something you’ve outgrown that you’re ready to release?

-What kind of nourishment is your body, mind, heart craving? How can you incorporate this type of care into your life that would feed and fuel you?

-What is one thing you are looking forward to over this next coming cycle?

SONG THAT’S STUCK IN MY HEAD: Clearly by Grace VanderWaal on Spotify
Clearly by Grace VanderWaal on YouTube

SONG FOR LETTING GO (PERFECT FOR A LIL BREATHWORK!): Let It Go by PYPR with Jordan Critz on Spotify
Let It Go by PYPR with Jordan Critz on YouTube

Where Does Your Grief Go?

Today’s the death anniversary of my dad and the thought that popped into my head this morning whilst pouring my coffee: “today is the day my life changed forever”.

In reality though, it had already started changing when he got sick and when he shifted into the end stages of the dying process. From March to August, my world was already shifting. But my full arrival into the role of Griefwalker* was made official on this day 27 years ago.

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Anniversaries land different from year to year but the body always seems to remember what day it is.

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This year, I’m thinking about how that young gal didn’t know how to carry all that grief in her 12-year-old body and how proud she would be to know how I’ve learned to ride the waves and hold the space for grief in all its forms. My own specifically AND the grief of others as well.

There’s that quote that says “Grief is just love with no place to go” and while, YES, I love this, how true…. this year I’m thinking about how grief cracks your heart open so your love can spill E V E R Y W H E R E.

If you let it, your grief-love guides your attention to what matters.

Like, the taste of the summer peach, the click click click click of the nails of your furry familiar following you around the house, the warmth in the hug of your best friend, the most gasp-worthy beauty of a sunset, the tiny crinkle lines at the edges of your eyes showing proof of smiles, laughs, years well lived and well loved.

Perhaps this is a lesson embodied when you’ve walked with grief for a while - and maybe not as helpful if grief is raw and new. We don’t bypass the heaviness of grief over here in these parts - there’s space for the full spectrum of being human here in my world.

AND I guess what I’m holding onto today is the reminder that grief doesn’t go away and it isn’t a problem to be fixed, but if we stay with it and let it deepen us, it can change us for the better.

XO!!

*Griefwalker is a term I learned from Stephen Jenkinson.

JOURNAL PROMPT & INSPIRATION:

-What is important to you right now?

-Make a list of things you love.

-If you could describe where you’re holding your grief right now, where would it be?

-One of my favorite poets Andrea Gibson passed away in July and I’ve been inspired by the ways they lived and expressed their life while living with incurable cancer and the impact their death has made on the web of humans who knew them. Now I’m being deeply moved by their wife Meg - also a poet - and the words she’s sharing as she navigates fresh grief. You can check out both of their amazing work on Andrea’s substack, “Things That Don’t Suck”.

SONG I’M LOVING (GREAT FOR LEO SEASON): Lionheart by KAYNAH on Spotify
Lionheart by KAYNAH on YouTube