Intentional Living. Intentional Thinking.

Some themes from my past have been popping up a lot lately. These themes typically rear their ugly heads just as I am feeling firmly rooted in new projects, motherhood, and life in general. That tends to happen doesn’t it? Just when you are feeling settled, boom, plot twist. Or thought twist.

I realize now though, how much more ease I have with my own inner critic. The gremlins. That pesky voice that historically would dictate how I would respond in a given situation or what I “should” do. It can be a rather harsh voice, reminiscent of the harsh tones I grew up with. I know now though that those voices needn’t apply to my life or my choices. I look at my own drive, especially towards work and the things that I desire to create, and know that I cannot create from a place of fear. Nor can it be a place of shame, guilt, or scarcity.

I do know that I need to hold myself accountable, but in doing so I can sometimes create the critic. Well, how about accountable compassion? I myself need to surrender to my own process. I know that for me, it helps to be encouraged with kindness, compassion, and love. A sense of self forgiveness for not being where I thought I would, however acknowledging that I am no where near the place that had been chosen for me long ago. For all of it, I do feel a profound sense of gratitude.

In coaching we often identify our gremlins to help notice when they start to creep in. I recall a coaching session years ago with my mentor and I described my gremlin as “ROD”. Raw. Overwhelm. Disconnection. Damn ROD. He is this gnarly, toothless, ignorant, mullet sporting asshole. Gross right? Yup. It gives you an idea though, of what is needed in those moments when gremlins pop up. In those moments for me, I need my own reassurance that I am okay, in the right place, loved, valued, and filled with gratitude. I am creative, smart, and not what my gremlin would like me to believe. How could I be?

In these moments I refer to Byron Katie’s first question in “The Work”. “Is it true?” Often, it is not true. What the gremlin is saying isn’t true. So what I choose next is imperative. Choosing to move forward. Proceed with a shit ton of self love. Accountable compassion. I want to move forward. To become. I can hold myself to that, but I will do it with love. Can you?

Let’s rise,

ah

You are already her.

I feel like I have needed to be in a deep state of slumber. Like a medically induced coma for my creative nervous system, and truthfully for my literal nervous system. To restore myself to sanity, to breath, to faith. I think I am coming back; I hope so anyway.

I have been restless with rest, but allowing at the same time. It is a fine balance that I have had to learn. Forcing patience sounds like a polarity, but it is true for someone who likes to move quickly and efficiently. Rest, healing, and rejuvenation can feel crazy making for someone who lives to create. It is imperative though, the balance of it all. There is a sense of steadiness that clarity and time can bring. True healing is for the non escapist. There is no out; only an in deeper.

There comes a time though, when it becomes time. Time to sit with yourself and begin to create again. Though there might still be much to repair, it is mending. There is more space between breaths. There is a return of ease in the motions of the day. In the rituals of morning coffee, laughter at toddlerhood, and leaning into life again. Too much pressure makes anything pop, so one must release it a little at a time. For me it is through my hands; writing. Be it handwritten, which is my go-to, or through my keyboard. My body recognizes this hand motion and never does well with stagnancy or stillness. The restlessness of it all though does eventually spill itself out onto the page. Gratefully.

I think there are phases of coming back to life. To regaining consciousness after a traumatic season. You can build your foundation back, your home, friends, and repair relationships worth salvaging from the wreckage. Then you can move on from what no longer serves you. But the middle, ah, the middle of healing; she is a beast. It is that look you give yourself in the mirror when you wake and do not recognize who you are any longer. Not merely because of motherhood bags under your eyes, no, this look is different. This is one of conquest, endurance, of salvation. This look is a sturdy one. Totally worn out, but sturdy. You look at her and know she is who she is meant to be. 

Let's rise,

ah

Fall; Feeling Good As Hell.

I’ve been in a bit of a transition space lately, as the Fall season usually is for me. I spend my time clearing away clutter, physically, mentally, and emotionally. The girls and I have been baking muffins, cleaning up toys they no longer play with, building new furniture, and creating a cozy space. We are nesting, hibernating, and consciously or unconsciously gearing up for a cold winter. Seasons have been a metaphor lately, as they usually are for a lot of people. The change in weather, the change in us. Life alters us if we allow it to.

I have also been reflecting on relationships. Past, present, and the ones that transition with the seasons. I used to feel deeper sadness about relationships that transitioned like seasons, but now I am trying to admire them for what they are. I think they are the ones that come into our space to show us something we haven’t been paying attention to. Parts of ourselves we have been neglecting for whatever reasons. The parts of ourselves that we either like or dislike are what we tend to notice in others. I guess I am just trying to be more conscious of how I am showing up in the world. How I show up for the people that I love and how I show up for the world in general. Some days this is easier to do than others because we are human. We all have our days of beeping in traffic, doors slammed in our faces, and other’s less than charming disposition to reconcile with. I am trying to be patient with myself, kinder, more compassionate, gentle, and keep myself warm. Though I love the crispness of Fall, warmth is key to my being a charming human with a somewhat okay disposition. 

I’ve been asking myself what I want and need, something I am trying to do more regularly, as it often goes out the window with the speed of life these days. Trying to slow down, because I recognize that I am born ram and general freight train do-er. Trying to relish in the mornings of snuggles, baking, the house smelling of pumpkin, and listening to Lizzo. We all want to feel “good as hell”. (Also secretly but not so secretly I have a deep desire for my children to respond that way in the future when asked how they feel.) 

So, what makes us feel good as hell? 

Today it is:

Hot tea

Pumpkin chocolate chip muffin tops (yep, we only make the tops)

Fleece blankets, snuggles, and coziness

Sitting at our new desk, the sunlight hitting me just right while typing

Always giggles

Always love

Writing

Music, constant music

A crisp walk

The smell of Fall

Slowing the F down - Also known as presence 

A grateful heart

Trying…

What do you want?

What do you need?

What makes you feel good as hell? 

Let’s rise,

ah