what if the voice inside you
wasn't a prophet or a poison
but a riddle?
what if the thing we call a sign
is sometimes just the residue of a bruise
echoing through our bloodstream
like a song it forgot how to stop singing?
Last month our family and my brother’s family traveled to Maine for a spectacular vacation my mother organized. The last time we all got together for vacation was pre-Covid in 2019 in Montana, staying in a shared home that couldn’t have been more idyllic.
We had been anticipating this reunion since the plans got rolling a year ago. Our recent trip of a lifetime was filled with picturesque hikes through Acadia National Park and kayaking in the backyard waters by day, collaborative home-cooked meals and thrilling Yatzee competitions by night, and… a gorgeous house filled with mold.
Let’s back up…
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If I really want to give my digestion the TLC it deserves—like when much of the body’s resources are being summoned to alleviate an infection or I sense my body is going through emotional healing—I like to go on a "kitchari fast.” The nice thing about this Ayurvedic form of cleansing is that it's nourishing enough to keep you going all day, while allowing your body to devote more of its resources to healing the body. Digestion requires a lot of energy, so this respite from the daily digestion grind does the body good.
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In the spirit of transparency—since many of you have worked with me or are contemplating doing so in the future—I want to share my spiritual perspectives with you. It’s important that you feel truly aligned and safe with whomever you choose to support you on your healing path, whether that’s me or someone else. Whether it’s in cacao circles or in private somatic healing sessions.
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A quick blog post (aren’t those the best kind these days?) to offer a glimpse into a few things grabbing my attention lately…
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I’ve spent my life running from my fears. Most of us have. I mean, who wants to go down the mental path of playing out a worst-case scenario to its bitter end? Seems too intense to face such harsh realities. Going deep into our fears is more than most of us are ready to embrace.
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We are currently living in an epidemic of environmental illness and repressed emotions manifesting as dis-ease, especially here in the United States. This may sound strange to many. That’s okay. It would have sounded strange to me twelve years ago when my body began presenting with mysterious and debilitating symptoms that I had never in my life faced to such a degree.
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It felt as though my heart—my self-compassion—was floating up and away from my chest. The cold loneliness that remained in its place was more than just a bit uncomfortable, so without haste a (softening) version of my inner leopardess* stepped in to protect me. Her protection was short-lived and could have been detrimental to my growth had I not noticed and shifted.
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I have a thing about chocolate chips. I think it’s a waste of sugar and caffeine to eat them cold. The flavor essentially vanishes! I like my chocolate too much to waste my daily dose on tasteless, hard cold brown chunks. So even though I love a good, rich mint chocolate chip smoothie, I don’t usually opt for the chips.
Enter the Mint Chocolate Brownie Smoothie.
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If you follow any of my Instagram posts or stories then you may have gotten a sense for my love of ceremonial cacao. It took me a few years of hearing about it before I investigated further. I mean, I didn’t need another reason to feed my chocolate addiction, so why explore some weird tradition of sitting around a circle drinking more of something I already consumed plenty of?
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I was cleaning up my hard drive over the weekend and came across this story told by my then 11-year-old son. Couldn’t resist posting it…
There once was a seed. It sat buried beneath the dirt covered by the warmth of the sun and the occasional bathing of the rain. It grew, and it grew.
Society has us hardwired to believe that exploring our inner emotional worlds should be reserved for those who are sick—depressed, anxious, addicted, despondent, mysteriously ill with diagnoses like chronic fatigue or fibromyalgia… Do you see where I’m going?
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This year, more than ever, I’ve been conscious of product sourcing. As online consumer giants and big box retailers are weathering the 2020 storm quite well, many independent businesses are struggling or closing their doors. Now is the time to support our local farmers, spend the extra effort to seek out locally-made essentials, and kick any “fast fashion” habits. Not only do we lessen our carbon footprint, but we vote with our dollars. I no longer want to be a part of perpetuating the cycle of child labor (clothing and chocolate both come to mind!) and environmentally harmful production practices. Sure, mindfully shopping takes more time and effort, but in the end it’s totally worth it! Here are some of the more eco- and human-friendly finds I’ve come across this year.
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After one or two stellar wins (and many more sad misses) at making light and billowy sourdough loaves last year, I finally decided to give my starter another shot. There’s something about being cooped up inside, sheltering-in-place for what is beginning to feel like forever that can inspire you to get a little adventurous. That or life begins to look like groundhog day, and I’ve never been one for routine.
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For many of us, electronic communication has become a bigger part of our lives than ever before. As we sheltered-in-place for months and now find ourselves transitioning to an increasingly virtual world we’re becoming more and more tethered to EMF-filled devices.
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The arduous mountain range that tested us twice on the way up to Luray wasn’t as challenging on the way back to North Carolina, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a nail-biter. The Ford chugged and bucked its way up the steepest inclines and Matt did everything he could to keep us on the road. Our lowest speed this time hit around 25 mph—better than the 5 mph we had endured on the way up. But the truck apparently wasn’t fixed.
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The next morning we awoke to a gorgeous break from the rain (and from the flies now that they no longer sought shelter in our temporary home). After several days of being relatively cooped up together, I discovered a few cleaning tricks to help me maintain my sanity amid 400 square feet of boy-ness.
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Despite my husband’s original plan to push through the pouring rain and drive in the dark to our destination in Virginia on the heels of the towing setback, common sense prevailed and we made (the loud and bright) Walmart parking lot our home for the night. The next morning we prepped the RV again for the trip and piled the family into the newly “fixed” truck.
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