Reiki with Rachael.

10/13/2017

Session TWELVE.

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So it's session twelve, and there are a couple of things that I know to be true. I know that I am going to look back on everything that I said that I wanted 6 months ago, and revel in what I have been able to accomplish. I also know that I'm going to find that there are things on the list of what I wanted six months ago that are no longer realistic or true. Mostly, I know that in some way, shape, or form, everything that was a matter of concern in my mind or in my heart at the start of this mission, will have been tended to in some way.
I know this because I believe it to be true, I know this because I know the power of manifestation and intention, and most of all, I know this because Rachael has taught me about the true and incredible power of energy; in ways both big and small.

I know that no matter what happens next, I have ascended a mountain of sorts, and from where I now stand, I can look back on the past six months with a clear perspective. I have done a ton of heavy emotional lifting since April, and am stronger and more resilient than ever before. I have new skill sets and a more comprehensive understanding of the Universe…and most importantly, the space in which I now live is forever open. There is no going back from here, I have made it to the end of a well worn journey, and I already want to get started on chapter two.

(Rachael and I have already discussed this, and agreed that we will be working together for another six months starting mid October.)

SESSION 12.

My final session with Rachael felt kind of like (pardon the graphic expression) my water breaking. ..or at least, what I imagine that to be. It was like the final release before the birthing process begins. I have felt -for the past 6 months- like I have been in utero, rebuilding my internal structure, in preparation to once again step out into the world as the most authentic version of myself.

Session twelve made it very clear that it is time to push.

Time to create. To birth. To bring something into existence that has yet to have ever been created before. I want to land in Oregon, dig my roots into the soil and stretch my branches up towards the sun. I want to experience what I am able to create when I am all in; when I no longer have to spend my time or energy wondering where my next home will be (I have moved my life 51 times since high school graduation) or where my next pay check will be coming from (I intend to find consistent, stable employment).
What will I do with all of that energy that I normally use to run around in circles?
What will it allow me to come up with?
What is it that I want to learn about? To cultivate?
What do I hope to discover, that can grow and expand and permeate through all of my life, for the rest of my life? Especially now that I understand that it is not so much a privilege, but a responsibility to make clear, concise statements to the Universe about what it is that I would like to have/be/do/create/etc.…and then to be open to the reception of those things in whatever way they choose to show up.

From start to finish, top to bottom, beginning to end, these past six months have taught me more than I ever knew was possible for me to know. And not in the ways that I had originally thought that they would. Initially, my intentions were tangible. They were wrapped tightly around things that I could see or touch or hold up and show off. Largely; they were external.

However, now, with Rachael’s help, I have seen the light; there is no external. Sure, there are things and items and resources outside of myself that I may wish to call upon or to acquire at different points in my life, but when it comes to living fully and truthfully, there is no 'one goal', no end game…no end at all. There is only life, connected to the heart and lead by truth. There is just me, wherever I go, whatever I do.

As I mentioned all of this to Rachael -to her utter delight- she was astute enough to inquire about what I might be afraid of as I move ahead. What potential triggers do I foresee lying in the distance, waiting to try and suck me back into a place of disbelief or darkness.

“I’m scared of starting anew. Of doing things that I haven’t done before, even though I know I have the skills and the courage to do them; I’m afraid of looking stupid. Of having to ask stupid questions…”
“And why would you have to do that?”
“Because I will be starting over as I move ahead. I have let go of a lot of my old expectations for my life, and that means having to walk out into the wild blue yonder, not knowing what I am going to find. I’m scared of starting over, of having to build my way back up from scratch, spinning my wheels, and having to start from the bottom.”
“Consider this:” she said to me, “you’re not starting over…”

…I LOVE this woman…

“you’re not…the ground is already built and it is IN you so it cannot be moved. Continue to trust this, even in circumstances that look similar to past situations…they are not the same!!! You are a different person now, so the experiences are going to be different…you have been manifesting all along…and continuing to receive...there is no starting over.”

…and with that, I felt myself cross the finish line.

She was right, IS right -of course- and it makes total sense. I am not starting over now, not now, not ever. There is no ‘starting over’, not really, because we carry all of our glorious, beautiful, crazy mess with us wherever we go. Sure, we shed details along the way, gain new perspectives and change our hair, but until we die, we do not start over. And even then, depending on what you believe, your soul simply continues to evolve…vs. eliminating it’s own existence.

I don’t have to start over. I am who I am, now, where I am, now, and I will continue to be that person no matter where I go or what I do from her on out…and then I will learn more stuff and gather new information, and I will incorporate it all…but I don’t ever have to start over.

This notion brought me such peace. It brought me the feelings of self-trust and self assurance that I have been gunning for since I started my journey towards personal development some _____ years ago. Finally, I felt like I got what I was after, and a giant sense of calm washed over my entire body.

'I can trust myself' has transformed into 'I trust myself'.
'I can be myself', to 'I am myself'.
and 'I am safe in the Universe', became, simply, 'I am safe'.
Period.

I trust myself, I am myself, and I am safe.
Period.

At the close of our session, Rachael performed one final energy clearing, sweeping away the last remnants of cobwebs and checking in one final time with my deepest truths.

As she did this, I was reminded of our first session together; how lost I felt and confused I was, and how terrified I was that the Universe was turning its back on me…

“…you are trying and trying and trying to move forward, you are actually tied to a tree...everything you need and everything you have learned is with you, inside of you always, and you don't need to keep carrying around your attachment to the person or the experience--from which you got your gems--any longer…”

As I read that now, I laugh at how much more sense it makes than it did six months ago, and I am overjoyed as I read and re-read what Rachael shared with me about my energy in our final session of our first round of work together:

You are in such a place of peace.
You are wide open.
It’s ok to show up as the full version of you...it’s time.
You are going towards what you actually WANT.
You are full of gleeeee!!! And so excited for your new adventure.
You can do this, you are doing this, and you are determined…

…and I am. And it is. It’s time.

I am exactly where I had hoped I would be at this point; despite having no idea what it was going to look like or how I was going to get here...but here I am.
And I know I am… because I know I am :-)

I wouldn’t have made it without Rachael’s help.
My heart and my spirit are eternally grateful for the past six months, for the love and passion of another person who is so deeply committed to the well being of others. For Reiki with Rachael.
I am forever changed, and forever grateful, and forever me.

‘When the student is ready, the teacher will appear...’

for more info on cteh -or- to work with rachael, click here!

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10/8/2017

Bye Week 11.

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Something suddenly makes sense that did not makes sense before. Something so obvious that it is almost laughable and certainly denotes a sense of awareness that i did not have even twenty four hours ago. It is something that I tell the children I nanny for, that I remind my friends of when they are hurt by the actions of another, and something that I have always believed myself to understand…until now…because only now do I understand it;

I am responsible for myself. (keyword being ‘I’)
I am. All the time, no matter what.
Not my job, not my parents or my friends, not the arbitrary rules that I put into place in an attempt to give myself boundaries because I do not trust that I can make them for myself.

Just me. Only me. All by myself, all alone, with or without the food on my plate, the clothes on my back or the money in my bank account. I am still, always, and 100% responsible for myself.

(Barring Alzheimer's or some other vegetative state,
for which it will previously have been
MY responsibility to sign the papers
telling whoever is in charge to pull the plug.)

***

I took myself on an adventure to Brooklyn yesterday -in part because I wanted to check it off my list before I move, and in part to make sure that I don't actually want to live there- where I was reminded that I have no desire to attempt to fit in to that culture, and that while you can certainly see more skyline and it feels much less overbearing than Manhattan…there is still no space.

As I walked the streets ( a LOT of them), I watched in my mind, as many of my old fantasies about life as an artist danced through me. All the fantasies I held about living as some sort of boho-sheik writer/actor person who lives in a terribly adorable little apartment above some kind of noodle shop, and who trots down to her friendly neighborhood coffee house every morning to work on her memoirs…
That same girl who dines nightly at any one of the incredible restaurants in her neighborhood, where she gets fabulously drunk on cheap champagne and heads to an underground hookah lounge/jazz club where she will ‘jive out’ until 3am, and only pour herself into bed -after having a smoke on her fire escape- after she watches the sun come up.
As I walked along, I let those old stories and images wash over me. As I stepped into various vintage clothing shops, I imagined myself trying things on, magically knowing what goes with what, and walking the streets of Brooklyn, confident in my ability to dress myself in a way that was ‘representative of my spirit’…or something like that. I kept walking and letting the images of the life I always thought I would live, wash over me and through me. And then, as I acknowledged the truth that I had no desire to try and fit in there, I got on the train back to Manhattan, and I let all those images and stories and ideas wash away, along with the notion that I was ever suppose to be anything other than what I have always only ever been;
Me.

I have only ever been myself.

I may have told myself a LOT of stories about who I wanted to become and what she would be like, but none of it HAS ever, or, dare I say COULD ever, change the blueprints on my soul. And pardon the flowery analogy, but that’s really what they are: Blueprints. On the Soul. Or perhaps OF the soul. Blueprints OF the soul? Whatever. They both elude to the same thing;
we are who we are, and we are not who we are not, and odds are good that if we can embrace the former, then we will spend less and less time concerned about the latter.

It’s that old adage; “the grass is always greener…” and sometimes, that may be true.
But the reality is; if what we really want is greener grass, than perhaps we should stop wasting all our time looking across the street at the neighbors grass, and get to watering our OWN.

And I am the only one/thing/human/mind/heart/soul/watering can responsible for my grass; the bills I need to pay, the chores I need to do, the feeding, bathing and general ‘looking after’ of myself…it’s all me. And it always has been.
But up until very recently, it always ‘has been’…because I have been responsible to someone or something else.
I have been putting other yards before my own.
A job that has needed me to look a certain way. A job that takes up a certain amount of my time during the day, therefore mandating how I spent my remaining hours if I wanted to get anything else done. Any number of particular goals that have forced me to follow a strict code of self-imposed rules about how or what I eat or spend my money on or whether or not I have time for relationships.
Relationships! And the desire to present myself a certain way within those relationships.
The list goes on and on, and I know I am not alone. In fact, when I look around, this seems to be pretty standard in our society today. And while it is not crazy to want to move towards goals, or to want to look and feel a certain way, what is crazy -to me- is how much of my life I have spent in pursuance of those ‘goals’ based on the achievement of things that some part of me knew that I never really wanted in the first place.

That I don’t actually want to be a Brooklyn hipster.
That what I actually want is to move to Oregon and live with one of my best friends and have a whole new adventure.

That what I actually want, is not something I can see…yet…but is certainly something that I can feel.

I am moving to Oregon.

And I am making the choice to move to Oregon for NO other reason than because I WANT TO, and in doing so, I am responsible for whatever comes next.

I am moving to Oregon. I am moving so much so that as I was wandering the streets of Brooklyn yesterday, checking things off of my ‘things to do before I go’ list, over in Oregon, my soon-to-be-roommate was busy re-arranging her entire house so that it is in order for my arrival in a few short weeks. This included rigging a makeshift closet system in her bedroom so that I would have a room of my own (the 2nd bedroom which she had previously been using as a closet). She also spent part of her day setting up my new bed, which she purchased on my behalf, and which was delivered via the truck of one of HER Oregonian friends -a woman I have yet to meet- so that it would be all set up for me by the time I get there, and so that I can “walk in, put my bags down, and feel like I am finally home”.

That is a direct quote from my soon-to-be-roommate.

I want to go live with my friend. My choice, my responsibility.

I have no idea where I am going to work. My choice, my responsibility.

In exchange for leaving NY to move to a much smaller My choice, my responsibility.
town in Oregon, I may no longer be able to order food
for delivery at 4am.
(That one is actually really up to the restaurants of Oregon
However, as it is my choice to live there, it will be my responsibility to suffer the consequences.)

As I release my former life and all of the ideas I had about who I was or who I was suppose to be, I find myself staring at a blank slate.
This feels a bit intimidating.
And then I remind myself that it is only blank because I have yet to fill it, not because I don’t know who I am without the old one.

I have been who I am, and I will continue to be who I am.
I will be setting the standards from now on; watering my own grass.
And if I want to know how the neighbors make theirs so green, I will just walk across the street, and ask.

I am the big rock in my bucket. I go in first, and the rest of the little rocks fill in around me.

We are all our own big rocks. We have to be.
And if you don't like your bucket or the rocks that surround you, it is up to you to go get a new one, but you must always ‘put your oxygen mask on first’…
You must always be the big rock.

***

This morning, as I write this, I feel nerves and fear. The nerves that tingle when their surroundings feel new, and the fear that tells me that I am headed in the right direction.

Perhaps excitement is a better word. Or exhilaration. Either way, it’s there.

And it’s there because I went to bed last night with the understanding that I had no reason to wake up today, except for me.
I have no reason to take care of myself, except for me.
I have no one to impress or make happy or to do nice things for…except for me.

In surrendering everything that has ever taken me away from myself, I am responsible to no one…except for me.

I am living for me.

I must live for me, and you must live for you.

We all must water our own grass. :-)

And while it is wonderful to acknowledge the color and the height and the health of the grass of our neighbors, we must, all the while, return to and tend to our own yards. To our own houses. To our own lives.

And I don’t know about you, but I want some green mother fu*king grass.

Hell, maybe even purple.

“Try never to impress others, but rather, to impress yourself, and be proud of that.”
-Numi tea bag.

Today feels like a new beginning. A new awareness of things that have always been there, but are finally able to sink well beneath the surface, and settle in for life.
I KNOW this is due to my work with Rachael. It has given me the space and the patience to receive the information when it was ready to come, and to process it and work it into my bones by whatever means necessary.

I am so freakin excited to move to Oregon.
I am so freakin excited to see what happens next.
I am so freakin excited to have a yard and grass to water…

I am so freakin excited to
just. be. me.

for more info on cteh -or- to work with rachael, click here!

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10/7/2017

Session ELEVEN.

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When did I decide that living life in a particular way was more important than just living life?
And what have I been waiting for?

When did I decide that only once I was ________________ enough was I entitled to the same amount of pleasure and joy as everyone else on the planet?
Not that all of them are taking advantage of it either, but to each their own, and I fear that I have been giving my ‘each’ far too little credit for far too many years.
The tingles to go and do things…just because...
The desires to go and sit in a cafe with the best coffee in New York and write about nothing or something or anything on my computer…to be THAT girl. The desire to put on a nice dress and go have a glass of wine at a smokey jazz bar…ALL BY MYSELF. The desire to see the statue of liberty just because, to walk thru The Met and look at all the art, even if it doesn’t speak to me or I know nothing about its history. Just the notion of what it feels like to spend a day in Brooklyn or to taste the best greek food that New York has to offer..which I'm told is in Queens.

when did I lose the will to have fun?
Even if I have to do it alone?

I have a few guesses.
Most of them have to do with a very dynamic shift in my life when I chose to leave school (the second time) and chase money by working a ‘real’ job. I’m not sure how the corporate greed monsters were able to sink their fangs into me quite so deeply, but it appears that I have never fully recovered. Perhaps I can blame it on my immigrant roots; a 3rd generation Jew, who knows very little about her Jewish heritage, but seems to come by the ‘you haven't earned it unless you are exhausted and in pain’ motto with ease.
I know I’m not alone here.
I also know that it doesn't really matter.
What DOES matter is that I have approximately three to five weeks left living in NYC, and I want to live them up. What’s more, I have approximately three to five weeks of LIFE left living in NYC, and I want to live my LIFE.

***

I spoke with Rachael about this in our ELEVENTH SESSION...

...capitalized for EMPHASIS because I cannot believe that we are almost done with our work -for now-, that it has been almost six months since we started, and that such radical shifts in my perspective has taken place.

We spoke about the fact that, while, for many days and nights and weeks on end since I have been here, I have done exactly what I needed to do; to sit by myself, watching TV or movies, ice cream in hand, and zone out. Be away from the world. Not have to take care of anyone, not have to relate to anyone, not have to see anyone or be anything to anyone other than kind and polite when the situation called for it, and then I could go right back to my hole, turn my brain off, and float away.

This was an essential part of my time in New York and incredibly necessary for the recovery, growth and evolution of my soul. I did what I needed to do, and I have no qualms about it. But, just as a caterpillar must learn to fly once it comes out of the cocoon (pardon the sugary analogy), it is now time for me to -once again- enter the world of the living; the scary, exhilarating, unpredictable, brutal, painfully ugly and simultaneously breathtakingly beautiful world of the living, where people explore, adventure, dive deep, fly high, fall, get back up, and keep going…the world where people live.

“There is a difference between fun and contrast” Rachael said to me.

We were discussing her sense of some of my hidden beliefs. Beliefs such as;

'there is no room for fun or spontaneity if I am simply at peace all of the time'
-and-
'I’m afraid that to live there full time (peace and ease) will be totally boring'…

...when she suggested that it is possible that I repeat certain un-wanted behaviors because they give my life contrast. Not because they feel good, or because they are fun, but because they give me something else to think about; something else to do, other than sit at home and meditate or go for long walks in the woods. That, while I find great benefit in doing both of those things, I also have to honor the part of me that likes excitement and surprises and the thrill of the unknown.

There is a difference between fun and contrast.
This made a LOT of sense.
I went on to tell Rachael how I have recently been noticing a lack of desire to do things that -in the past- would have constituted as ‘fun’ (contrast), and how some part of me was feeling super disappointed by that. As in, if I choose not to rebel against what I know is good for myself, then how the hell am I going to have any excitement?

Well, truth be told, sitting alone on a Friday night, eating pizza and watching Netflix, is not actually that exciting.
And while it may have been NECESSARY for a good portion of the past seven months (since I got here), it’s not because it was FUN.

…I’m trying to think of other examples but this one seems to be the most prevalent…

...and it doesn’t really matter, because the idea is the same no matter what:

There is a HUGE difference between doing something because it is actually FUN vs. doing something just because.

Fun is like sparklers in your heart. It is an altered state that creates the opening for joy.
Fun is adventure, and freedom, and something worth sharing, even if it is with a stranger.

“You know fun” Rachael said. “You know what brings you joy, and engaging with that vs. disengaging with everything that is here (NYC) is ACTUALLY how you want to leave New York. It will actually make it easier.”

I get to have fun?...I do?...I DO!!!

I get to have fun!!!

I GET TO HAVE FUN!!!

I laughed as I shared this new thought with Rachael, and though I’m not entirely sure what that means, the permission alone was enough to send my arms up over my head in excitement!

Rachael and I went on the discuss something else that felt like a mega lite bulb moment:

"There is a difference between a disagreement and an argument."

“And it feels really important for me to say that to you” she told me, as I laughed with relief into the phone.
This made so much sense to me, that I could literally feel pounds of emotional weight melting away with her words.

Apparently, I have been holding onto an old belief that goes something like:

to be me
=
having an opinion
=
disagreement
=
argument
=
exclusion/fear for physical safety

These thoughts have left me dishonest and resentful at times, and all to often have kept me from getting too close to the people that I love the most, for fear that I would inevitably lose them just by being myself...and that is a pretty lonely place to be.
Not much fun there.

“You do not need to fear having a disagreement. It’s ok to disagree. You can disagree without having an argument. You KNOW when an argument is about to be born; you can sense it, and you can actively chose NOT to engage.
You are safe. You have the power here. Lean into your relationships, this does not need to stop you anymore.”

So simple, and yet so profound.
It all reminded me of a moment in third grade when my father was trying to explain long division to me: I was terribly frustrated because I just did not understand, and my lack of understanding was halting all of my progress…and then…presto.
For no reason that I can think of, it suddenly just made total sense. Whatever needed to click, clicked, and everything fell into place.
And once it did, it couldn’t fall out.

Fun and contrast are not the same thing.

A disagreement and an argument are not the same thing.

It is ok to call things what they are…
It is ok to be honest about it…

Exercise:
Not really that fun, but feels GREAT and is TOTALLY necessary.

Vegging out in front of the TV after a really terrible day:
Not FUN, but probably necessary to turn the brain off and let the batteries re-charge.

Going on a beautiful hike with picturesque views and then treating yourself to a glass of wine and a great movie that you’ve been dying to see:
FUN!!!

Only sharing your opinion once you have finally convinced yourself that the person you are sharing your opinion with is a total jerk whom you no longer need in you life and therefor you do not run any risk of losing someone you love due to an argument caused by sharing your opinion:
NOT FUN.

Sharing an opinion and engaging in an intriguing dialogue with someone of a differing opinion, which ultimately brings you closer to that person:
not only potentially very fun, but also mind-opening and heart expanding!!!

Spending five and a half months working with an incredible reiki practitioner who helps you dig out all of the emotion crap that you have been carrying around with you , and wading though the muck that all that crap leaves behind:
TOOOOOOOOOOOOOTALLY NECESARY,
...not always so fun.

Coming to the end of your journey, at which point you realize that all of that wading and waiting has led you to the current moment; the moment in which you finally realize that you’ve done the work, and it’s time to celebrate:
SO FU*KING AWESOME,
AND
SO FU*KING
F-U-N.

At the close of session eleven, I giggled. I felt the sparks of excitement re-enter my body as I began to remember what it was like to go and do things just because they were fun. Are fun.
Drinking wine with friends. Window shopping. Baking cookies for other people.
Playing with sparklers.
Going on adventures.
Laughing and drinking and being merry...
I love having fun.

A toast to fun:

May we all have it,
May we agree to disagree when necessary, so as not to detract from it,
and my we all open our hearts and our minds to the many places it may be hiding.

Here’s to fun… :-)

for more info on cteh-or- to work with rachael, click here!

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10/6/2017

Bye Week 10.

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You don’t get to ‘peace and ease’ via ‘control and manipulation’.

You don’t arrive at love if you’re being driven by fear.

Trust is an all-or-nothing endeavor.

That’s what I believe to be true this week.
Rather, that’s what I have learned to be true over the past several months, all of which seems to have solidified in my heart since my last session with Rachael.

The journey has to feel the way you want to destination to feel.
If you are eager to live a life of peace and ease, odds are good that you’re not going to get there by clenching and clinging to the things that you believe to be essential for achieving that particular goal.
Likewise, if you long to know true love, you have to open yourself up to it, not the other way around.
I have spent a lot of time in a lot of relationships waiting for the other person to make me feel ‘safe enough’ before I was willing to show my true colors.
I believe that both concepts; 'peace and ease' and 'being open to love' are rooted in the ability to trust; to trust the Universe, to trust one-another, and above (or below) all else, the courage to trust one’s SELF.

"You can’t change your whole life 'just because' somebody dies,
but you sure can change your priorities."

-Me, following the death of my dear friend; Jason.

The morning after Jason's funeral, I began taking stock of my own existence and wondering; if I died tomorrow, would the people I love know how I feel about them? If my parents were to suddenly die, what would I tell my children about them?
Have I been living a life worth living?
Have I been playing it safe?
What is it that I ACTUALLY care about?

And it struck me; I don't know. If I died tomorrow, I have no idea what kind of legacy I would leave behind. I like to think that it is one of love and honesty, but I cannot control what anyone else thinks or chooses to think or acknowledge or feel or anything else for that matter. If my parents were to die, I do not know what I would tell my children about them, because my children do not exist yet. I know what I know about them now -in this moment- and that is that my parents are human beings who have done the best they could to love me and give me all of the tools necessary to navigate my own life. I also know that I love them to the ends of the earth, I will never be ready to say goodbye to them, and I pray that whatever I could ever 'tell' my children about them would pale in comparison to what they will have the opportunity to learn on their own.
Have I been living a life worth living? Every life is worth living. That's why we live.
Have I been playing it safe? I feel very confident in saying that most of the choices that I've made in my life thus far have been more terrifying than not. And -also more often than not- they have turned out better than I could imagine.

What is it that I ACTUALLY care about?

Peace, ease, love and trust.

My mother.
My father.
My family.
My friends.
Making the important decisions based on what feels good in my heart,
whether it makes sense or not.
Getting to decide what I spend my time and energy on, why it's important to me, and how I wish to show up in the world.

What I ACTUALLY care about is what already ACTUALLY exists.
Not hypotheticals, not a future that I have yet to create am attached to receiving,
but about being truthful in the moment,
and following what feels right in my bones.

Despite all of my attempts and efforts at being an open, spiritually grounded and some-what enlightened individual, Jason’s funeral made it very clear to me that there are more ways than I care to admit in which I have been living life from the outside-in; concerned more with external validation in the forms of money, praise, compliments, contracts etc., than with the quality and depth of my relationships, let alone the quality and the depth of my love for the people I am in those relationships with.
And, as it turns out, what I really care about is just that; love. Deep and full relationships with the people that I love, living a life that fosters and encourages that love, and finding ways -big or small- to love that life each and every day.

You don’t get to ‘peace and ease’ via ‘control and manipulation’.
You get there through living every day the way you want to feel every day.
You don’t arrive at love if you’re being driven by fear.
You must be who you wish to receive in the world.
Trust is an all-or-nothing endeavor. 
Self explanatory.

I am thankful to my friend Jason for this shift in perception.
And while his sudden departure felt like a crack in my heart, it is through the cracks that the light gets in.

I am grateful for the light, for the ability to see, and the courage to change.
Most of all, I am grateful to have loved a friend so much that I am left with the gifts of his life, even after he is gone.

Long live the life worth living.

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10/5/2017

Session TEN.

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I spoke last week of the sudden passing of my dear friend; Jason. I have had a bit more time to process his death since I last wrote, and was able to fly home to attend his memorial service which brought with it the opportunity for closure, as well as some new and -to me- very profound ideas about life that had not previously been on my mind or in my heart.

My friend Jason and I had a million incredible adventures together. One of the most epic, being when we were in our early twenties. We were both in serious relationships at the time (as serious as a relationship can be at twenty and twenty-two respectively), but neither of our significant others were available, so we decided to travel together -just the two of us- to Houston, TX to audition for American Idol.
The drive was long…and a total blast.
Houston was a million degrees, and rainy. For one humid and smelly night, we slept in line on the sidewalk, eager to take our place among the reality stars of the early 2000’s.
The morning of the audition, Jason held my compact mirror up in front of my face as I plugged my curling iron into the only outlet I could find -it was attached to one of the large wooden planters that decorated the outdoor plaza in which we had spent the last 24 hours- and as I attempted to make myself look presentable, Jason acted as my stylist; ensuring that I didn’t miss any hairs that needed tending to on the back of my head, and making sure I didn’t have lipstick on my teeth. As we did our best to warm up our voices in the Houston swamp, Jason cheered me on; knowing that while we were BOTH there to audition, singing was a forte of mine, and a life long dream to share with the world.
I don’t remember much about the actual audition, but I DO remember the two of us together the entire weekend, eating our weight in pistachios, listening to Tim McGraw, laughing at ourselves for taking on such a ridiculous adventure, and loving it because we were together.

“…a heart don’t forget somethin’ like that.”
-Tim McGraw

In my session nine post,
I talked a lot about plans…
mostly how they rarely pan out as expected.

Not long after the shock of Jason’s death wore off, I found myself on the phone with another dear friend (who happens to be well versed in trauma work). She offered her deepest sympathies and listened while I hyperventilated through my tears, and ultimately asked me if I had enough money to get home for the funeral.

“I do” I said, still weeping into the phone, “but that money is set aside to help pay off my credit card. Spending it on a plane ticket home was not the plan!”

“Neither was him dying, honey.”

Woof.

Neither was him dying.

Jason’s death was never a part of any plan that I could or would have ever even contemplated making…ever. Never ever ever ever EVER.

Up until his death, my life was based on the (previously unacknowledged) assumption that the foundation of my life; the people and the love that supports all of my crazy shenanigans, is bulletproof.
Was bulletproof.
That it was impenetrable.
And, in the rare case that something would come along with the ability to rattle that foundation -even a little bit- I would find it and squash it out faster than a cockroach in a New York City kitchen.

But you have to see it coming to try and stop it.
And I did not see this coming.
And that really pissed me off.
And then I spent a lot of money to fly home for his funeral…which also pissed me off.
What's more, feeling the remorse of losing him was absolutely not what I had scheduled for last week or this week or the days, weeks, and months to come. And that pisses me off the most.

Jason’s funeral announcement came out the Saturday after his death. After receiving a phone call from a friend to inform me of the details, I spent five minutes contemplating what to do (in shock), called my father, and bought a ticket home. Two hours later, I was on an airplane.

I spent the money, and I flew home for the funeral, where I cried harder than I ever have. I hugged his family, and I lit a candle in his honor, and I cursed him for not being able to attend his own funeral; an event in his honor and so filled with love and laughter that it seemed absolutely ludicrous for him not to be there.

Maybe he was.

I spent the following day with my family, and headed back to NY the day after; the day before my tenth session with Rachael.

When we spoke the following afternoon, I wept. As she asked me about my friend, I wept. When she told me that she could feel him communicating with me, I wept the hardest; both with relief, and ultimately, the acknowledgement that he was gone.
Rachael gently encouraged me to open my heart to what I already knew to be true; that while my friend Jason had died and his human life was over, our relationship was not, nor will it ever be.

Ever.

With her words, Rachael reminded me that it is ok to simultaneously grieve the loss of his life AND be grateful for the deepened connection that is left in his absence, and, that while it is customary (and almost expected) in our culture to express nothing but grief when losing a loved one, the truth of the matter is that grief and sadness are not the only acceptable ways to feel. In fact, when it comes to feelings, all of them are acceptable, so long as we process them in ways that do not hurt ourselves or others.

For instance, while my human heart is sad at the loss of my friend, and my guts feel like they have been run over by a mack truck, I also feel a deep sense of peace on his behalf, and -at the risk of sounding uncouth- a sense of joy and excitement at the prospect of carrying him with me forever wherever I go.
I feel closer to Jason now than I ever have.
Now that he is not constrained by a body that consistently asked too much of him, and now that he is free to be the purest and freest essence of himself…I feel him engrained in the sands of my existence in ways which I have never before experienced in my thirty-three years of life on this planet.

It is an odd feeling to be incredibly angry with someone while simultaneously feeling grateful to them for opening your heart so deeply.

Rachael and I discussed this further;
“Embrace the reality that your grieving can take as long as feels right to you, even if it turns out to be much quicker than you would have imagined. Honor the part of you that is human and needs to mourn as such, but also give yourself permission to honor the spiritual part of you; the part that already knows that this is just a transition, and that your relationship is still alive and well.”

As Rachael spoke, the part of me that felt as though my sadness was the only thing keeping Jason's memory alive gave way to the part of me that knew it was unnecessary. That he was not and is not past tense, but rather, he and our relationship have simply changed forms.

And with that, suddenly, I could see him; my Jason.

And not in a ‘sixth-sense’/ ‘I-see-dead-people’ sort of way, but in my mind’s eye, and the unwavering truth of my heart. As I sat there on my bed, eyes closed, Rachael spoke of his energy all around me. I saw the dark room I had been alone in, suddenly crack open, revealing a bright and golden sunny sky…and there he was; arms extended, big beautiful blue eyes shining bright through tears of joy. I walked towards him, and with huge sighs of relief, we both embraced just as we had so many times before. I got the sense that he had been waiting there for ages, knowing that we would only see each other again if I could learn to see him in a different way. We hugged for a long time, and as we did, his smile beamed and I could feel tears of joy and sorrow running down his cheeks. He told me that he was so sorry that he had to leave, but that he was not able to carry out his soul’s mission so long as he was on Earth. He told me that now, he is able to be all places at once, and can offer support to those in need with far greater abundance than ever before. He asked for me to remember him as he was in the beginning of our time together, in the smiles and laughter of my life, and the lives of so many others. He asked that I carry on in his honor, and do the work that was so important to both of us (to assist in the healing of others). Most of all, he reminded me that while I may not be able to see him with my human eyes any longer, I can absolutely see him with my heart.

As I shifted my awareness back to the room, Rachael and I spoke about what she had received as the conduit between myself and Jason. She told me that he wanted me to know that every time I think I can feel him, that it really is him. That he truly is with me, beside me and all around me, and that he did indeed ask me to remember him as he was when we first became friends some seventeen years ago.

I told Rachael that Jason’s death made me realize that while I can’t change my entire life because someone has died, I can certainly change my priorities. I can truly choose love and joy as the guiding forces in my life, just as she has been encouraging me to do over the past several months, and just as Jason and I did every time we set out to do something new. I can lean into my relationships with vulnerability -an idea which she went on to confirm was coming directly from my heart- just as Jason did every time he told the people in his life how important they were to him, no matter what.

I can choose what feels good, just because it feels good.
Jason taught me that.
And if he was here, he would tell you the same thing.

***

With Jason gone, there is a hole in the fabric of my life that can never be repaired or replaced.
In session ten, Rachael helped me to stitch a hem around its newly frayed edges, honoring what was, and holding space for what’s to be.

I will never forget you, my sweet pistachio.
Thank you for sharing your love and your light, and for the honor of being your friend.
Keep an eye out for those leprechauns.

for more info on cteh -or- to work with rachael, click here!

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9/26/2017

Bye Week 9.

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This post has been modified significantly from its original form, and started as nothing more than the mention of a feeling I was having that ‘something big was about to happen’.

With nothing else to go on, I -of course- took this looming omen as an invitation for wild and fanciful thinking…
‘Perhaps Broadway really IS going to call in a final twist at the eleventh hour!’
‘Maybe I am on the verge of meeting the man of my dreams (even though I currently have zero desire to get to know anyone other than myself right now)’
‘Oh! Maybe I’m going to win the LOTTERY!’
Note to self; buy a ticket.

Well, I was correct. Something big was about to happen.
And then it happened.

On Tuesday, August 22, one of my best friends from high school was found dead in his apartment.

He died on Tuesday, I found out on Wednesday, and by Saturday, I was on a plane back to New Mexico for his funeral.
The time between Wednesday and Saturday was a blur.
I didn’t want to go to work, but I didn’t want to be at home. My whole body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and I found it increasingly easy to sit and stare at inanimate objects for long periods of time.

Having never dealt with this level of shock or grief before, I tried to move forward as usual; I got up Thursday morning to go to the gym, where I discovered that I was unable to perform the same exercises that I had done the day before. It was like moving through sludge. I talked with friends who graciously attempted to help me through my grief, but every part of it felt empty. Every time I smiled, it felt like a lie, so I just didn’t. I didn’t smile, I didn’t think, I didn’t really do anything but wait for the funeral announcement and wonder whether or not I would be able to afford the flight home.

I have never lost a close friend. I have never lost a close anyone.

Every time I think of it, it strikes me as so incredibly odd; how someone can be here one moment and gone the next. How not every departure is graceful or peaceful or met with ‘Bon Voyage!’ or ‘you will be missed!’.
Sometimes, things just happen. As a matter of fact, MOST of the time, things just happen. Things happen, we are affected or we’re not, and the world keeps spinning either way.

Time truly stops for no one.

I wanted to press the pause button on life. I wanted more time -extra time- to process what had actually happened, but there was none. So, I kept moving, sharing the news with friends who hadn’t yet heard, and doing my best to answer questions that I did not have all of the answers to. There were moments of laughter as we shared stories in honor of his memory, and moments of absolute full-body anxiety ridden panic at the realization that I was never going to hear his voice ever again in my own two ears ever again.

I will never see him with my own two eyes, ever again.

And the world will go on.

That’s the thing about life. No matter how hard we love, or how high we climb, when we are gone, the world keeps moving on.
Our time on this planet is so short, often too short, that in moments like these, it makes me wonder why I care about what I care about, and forces me to ask myself how I have been doing at actually living my life; not just being alive, but truly living.
How much living am I actually doing compared to everything else that I am doing in hopes that it will truly let me live?
And is it possible that love is a priority which I have been scoffing at for a good chunk of my time here on earth…more concerned with what I have to show for my existence, than existence itself?

These are the questions that I am pondering.
These are the questions that feel important to examine, in honor of my friend who is no longer here to do it for himself; what the hell is the point, and am I missing it?

I don’t have the answer.

I guess that is why I am still here.

I have to believe that when someone is taken from the Earth so swiftly and so long before their time, they must have known something that I don’t.

He must have been ready to go, on some level, and the best I can do is let him.
In fact, it’s all I can do.

I miss him and I love him.
Those are the only things that I am certain of in this moment.

For Jason.

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9/26/2017

Session NINE.

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Since the start of this blog, I have tried to maintain some kind of consistent structure within each post, hoping to create a reader-friendly format. The original plan back in April (when this whole project began) was a bi-weekly post detailing the precise nature of each individual reiki session, and also, a bye-weekly post (in the off weeks) detailing my progress and the changes in my life as it continued/s to shift and evolve throughout the course of my work with Rachael.
Back in April, that was the plan.

The plan is the plan,
until the plan changes...

And then...

THAT becomes the plaN.

There were other plans as well.
General life plans, most of them regarding my move back to The Big Apple.
For instance; I planned on spending a lot of time with friends and family that live in and around the New York City area. I was going to attend musical theatre auditions for musicals until I managed to make it onto a Broadway stage, at which point, I would complete a quick stint on ‘The Great White Way’, check it off of my bucket list, and promptly leave New York City...forever.
I was going to explore all of the cool things about NYC that I had left un-explored when I moved to St. Louis in 2014; this included dancing on tables at wild night clubs/bars -that it turns out I have no desire to go to- and attending fabulous roof-top BBQ's with all of the fabulous new people…that I have not had any desire to meet.
Most importantly, while living in one of the most expensive cities on the planet, I was going to manage to make enough money to pay off my credit cards AND save five-thousand dollars to eventually move across the country...you know...after I was done doing all that other shit.

Well...you know what they say about plans...

...and despite my best efforts to get excited about all of the stuff that I had planned to do... none of that shit happened.

I am not on Broadway.
I have been to approximately three bars and even fewer night clubs in the seven months that I have been here.
I have seen my close friends fewer times than I have fingers on my left hand, seen my family about the same, and as of writing this post, I have yet to even make it to the Statue of Liberty (I plan on going…at some point…), let alone overturn every other stone that I had planned on turning over.
'Most importantly' (even though I have faith I have faith I have faith...) I do not currently appear any closer to financial solvency than I was back in February.

Needless to say,
my big move back to NYC has not gone at all according to plan.

The plan was the plan, until the plan changed.
Or, rather, the plan was the plan, until I changed.
I'm not sure exactly when it was, but at some point in recent history, my wants and desires started to shift -despite my repeated attempts to stick to the plans listed above, most of which originated fifteen years ago- and the inevitable change of plans began to take shape.

Since February, I have not spent as much time as I had originally planned with the people I had planned on spending it with, but I have spent a LOT of much needed time alone with my self. I have gone to a variety of wonderful dance classes (reminding me how much I love to dance), attended a generous handful of auditions (reminding me how much I love to sing), blown through my savings, eaten all of the things, thrown out seventy percent of my wardrobe because I only ever wear the same five things anyway, spent four months working as a receptionist, two months as a nanny, and began my reiki journey with Rachael…to name a few of the 'un-plans'.
Despite images I have had in my head for years; me, walking down the streets of Manhattan as a savvy and reasonably-disgruntled New York fashionista (all in black), I have continued to wear my flannel shirts and hiking boots around the city, because they feel like me...and it turns out that I don't really like shopping as much as I used to.
I have not made it to any of the museums on my list, but I have repeatedly taken whole days to 'hike' the most wilderness-y parts of the island, (eventually branching out to the State Parks and 'real' hiking trails outside of the city)...

...because it turns out that my ideas of beauty and inspiration have more to do with nature scenes vs. the scenery at The Met. (Not knocking fabulous artwork.)
I have not been excited about the idea of booking more acting work, but I have found that I am very excited to spring out of bed on the days that I have previously committed to working on my writing.

Since February, I have: written a book, started a blog, lived in three fabulous apartments (fulfilling my birthday wish to live alone as of my 33rd year), hosted a fabulous 4th of July BBQ on MY (loaner) rooftop, grown closer with my family, spent an entire weekend with my oldest nephew, grown closer with my closest friends who -as it turns out- are scattered all across the country, FINALLY started reading the Harry Potter series, and decided that it is time -once again- to leave the city.
And, 'most importantly', thought I haven't saved any money,
as of yet, I haven't needed any more than I've had.

The plan was the plan, until the plan changed.
And now, it is so obvious to me that the modified plan was actually the plan all along…surprise (wonderful) surprise.

In easing me through the many transitions that have taken place, Rachael’s guidance and support have been paramount.
She has taught me to feel out the energy of a given situation in order to make an aligned decision, rather than to evaluate potential outcomes based on form.
In other words; Rachael has taught me HOW to not judge a book by it’s cover.

It has taken me months to accept the fact that thinking about life as a Broadway performer feels -to me- like a heavy and one-dimensional existence.
And that is not a judgement on anyone who has committed to the grind and continues to do so. My life is full of incredibly talented people who are living their dreams everyday in some of the most wonderfully artistic endeavors that NYC has to offer, and I commend them for it. But, as far as my future is concerned, I can finally say -with confidence- that I have fully embraced the reality that there might be something bigger out there for me. Something that feels bigger in my heart and my soul. Something that feels lighter, more exciting and more expansive…even if I can’t see it, and even if I’m not sure exactly how to get there.

THAT was session nine.

I went into session nine clinging to what was left of the life that I had been attempting to live, even long passed its expiration date. I gave it one final energetic ‘go’; attempting to see if I could convince myself that a life filled with fulfilling activities would and could indeed be a life fulfilled… but I couldn’t.
And it isn’t.

By the end of our session, I was laughing at how obvious it was that I was ready to move on, and that in my heart, I already had; not away from anything or anyone, but towards a dream that has become so much bigger than anything I could have comprehended back in April.

In session nine, I accepted what was true in my heart, and I finally welcomed it with open arms.

...

If you’ve been following my journey throughout these blog posts, you will notice that -contrary to the original plan- the specific details of our session are not listed here. There are also many wonderful things that Rachael said that were an essential part of our session, but are not essential in sharing its message. So today, with this post, I am changing the plan. Reiki is an evolutionary process, as is writing and creating and anything else that we do repeatedly throughout the course of our lives.

Where I am today is not where I was back in April (a reality that I am happy to accept).
I have changed, and so have my ‘plans’ for this blog, and for my life in general.

And so, with that being said...
Here is what I know to be true today, that I didn’t know before:

I do not need a plan to feel safe, nor do I need a plan to BE safe, for I am already safe.
I do not need to agonize over how everything is going to work out, because it always has, it always does, and I trust that it always will.
My heart already has all of the answers, and the second I choose to listen, the answers reveal themselves and the way becomes clear.
It happens every time, all the time, without fail…for no-one and no-thing can take away the truth of our hearts.

I believe that this is true for every human being on the planet; that we are inherently safe.
We are loved. We ARE love.
We are blessed with everything that we need to know, every answer to every question,
and we always have a choice...even in the smallest moments.

Every clearing is an opening for the new and the good.

Every un-answered prayer is actually an answered one.

Trust trust trust.

Be more excited about what you can feel than what you can see, and know with every fiber of your being that if you build it, they will come, if you jump, the net will appear, and you are loved more than you may ever be able to comprehend in this teeny tiny little lifetime.

And, finally, if it is hard for you to believe this right now, at least know that I am here, believing it for you, just has Rachael has done for me time and time again, until you are ready to believe it for yourself.

Here’s to all the plans that never panned out, and here’s to a future that will.

for more info on cteh -or- to work with rachael, click here!

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8/16/2017

Bye Week 8.

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“Everything I ever let go of has claw marks on it”
-David Foster Wallace.

So, it’s a few days before my NINTH session with Rachael, and the reality is hitting me; we only have three sessions left. THREE. As in; six short weeks of reiki flow (we meet every other week) and blogging and new energies… six weeks until I have to look back on all of the stuff I’ve learned about who I am and what I want NOW and what I now understand myself to be capable of, and an old thought keeps dawning on me:

I am never going to be ready!
…scratch that…
I am never going to FEEL ready…

Ready to trust that I can do everything that I want to do.
Ready to trust my instincts without Rachael’s support- just as she has taught me to do.
Ready to move on from everything that is no longer serving me or my soul’s mission.
I’m never going to feel ready to leave behind the dreams that I had as an 18 year old.
I’m never going to feel ready to leave behind the potential for opportunity (that I can’t see), for the potential of opportunity that I think I can.
I’m never going to feel ready to leave New York ‘fully confident that there is nothing left for me here’ or certain that I will never return. (…which is actually good seeing as how I want to be bi-coastal.)

What's more, I’m never going to feel ready to say good-bye to my parents for the last time, or to have a baby, or to jump out of a plane or off of a cliff or to walk up to a total stranger and start a conversation with him because some part of me is telling me that I absolutely must.

Odds are very, very good that at the moment of impact,
I am never going to feel completely ready...
for any of it.

It doesn’t mean that these things won’t happen, and it doesn’t mean that I am not going to face them head on as they do, but it does mean that if I wait until I am super jazzed to charge fearlessly ahead into the great unknown, odds are good that it might not happen...at least, not this week.
Or next.
Because odds are good that if it is new or scary or different or anything that is remotely uncomfortable or relatively inconvenient or just doesn't sound like any fun, then I probably just won’t feel like it.

I’ve been thinking about all of this a lot over the past week.

All of the Feelings –my feelings- and all of the ways in which they have influenced my life; talking me into and out of things or situations, leading me to make decisions that were not always in alignment with my highest self.

Now, while I do believe that it is important to know
how/what it is that you desire to feel on a daily basis;

I want to feel strong

I want to feel at ease

I want to feel love

I want to feel powerful

... I also believe that it is essential to not let one’s feelings about those feelings drive the boat.

Perhaps you wish to feel stronger...

-BUT-
You never really feel like working out...

Or perhaps you wish to feel financially abundant, but you also don’t feel like cooking dinner (saving money) after a long day at work...
...when I say I will never feel ready, those are the kind of feelings I am talking about;
the feelings about the feelings. 

Luckily,
you don’t have to wait until you feel ready
to do the things that
you know you need to do.

It is entirely possible that someday, you will wake up at 5:30 am feeling super psyched about going to the gym to work out, and, it is equally as possible that to get to that point,
(the point at which you are super psyched about working out at 5:30am)
you are going to have to wake up at 5:30 am on
ALL OF THE MORNINGS BEFORE THAT
(the ones where you aren’t super psyched and you definitely don’t feel like it)
to go to the gym, and work out.

When you start to examine feelings from this perspective,
the differences between
'what you feel capable of '
-and-
'what is true in reality'
are staggering.

The truth is; we really are the only ones who stop ourselves from doing, being or becoming anything that we might choose to be…which kind of sucks...but is also totally liberating...depending on how you choose to feel about it. :-)

We hold onto our perceptions about what is happening to us, vs. the reality of what is just, simply, happening, because one leaves us with someone or something other than ourselves to blame, and the other leaves us with only ourselves.

Again, kind of shitty/ also totally liberating.

I heard two really great quotes this week about just such a thing.

The first was from Oprah.
She was not the originator of the quote, but as she is a fierce lioness-goddess-queen-of-awesomeness, she might as well have been.
It goes as follows: ‘Would you rather be right, or be at peace?’

The second came from a woman/author/speakers/motivational-champion/professional fixer/guru/problem-solver extraordinaire; Mel Robbins. She is also a commentator on CNN, a talk radio host, and is currently one of the most sought after public speakers in the entire world.
Her quote goes like so: ‘What if you’re wrong?’

On their own, they are both incredibly powerful. But it was the second that I put them both together that the wheels really began to spin...

“What if I’m wrong?
Would I rather be right, or be at peace?"

What if I’m wrong about... what I always assumed I was supposed to do with my life.
Has my need to be right kept me from my best self and the path to inner-peace?
What if I’m wrong about my (self-limiting) perceived strengths and abilities?
Maybe my need to be right has kept me stuck in old patterns.

How often is my need to be right out shadowing what is right in front of me?
How often do my feelings about what is happening affect my need to be right, instead of motivating me to investigate where the feelings are actually coming from?
How often do I consider the possibility that I could be wrong?
And how often do I defend myself, simply because I am petrified of finding out that I am (wrong)?

Now, don’t get me wrong (see what I did there?), I am all for boundaries and for protecting those boundaries at just about any cost, but I also believe that in order to do so, one must become very clear on the difference between a boundary (motivated by the desire for peace), and the simple need to be right (motivated by the ego).

I believe that boundaries are generated out of our basic human needs for protection and preservation. And, while there are certainly feelings that come up when our boundaries are being imposed upon or crossed, those feelings are intended to serve our need for survival as human beings –letting us know when something or someone poses a threat to our existence-, not the survival of our ego.

The ego, on the other hand, just wants to be right. And while I understand that the ego originated from a place of self-preservation, and that –originally- the need to be correct was paramount to our survival –eat this berry, that one is poisonous- it now serves to keep us as separate from one another and from knowing out true selves, for where there is truth, there is no ego, and this spells death for that primitive little shit kicker.

Where there is truth, there is peace.

(On some level.)

Truth may not always feel very good, or very peaceful, but if we choose to surrender to it, at least we get to stop fighting.
Think about how much less energy it takes to admit that you are wrong (if you are) then it does to keep fighting the same fight over and over again in the name of being right. By the same token, think about how peaceful you can be while engaged in an argument, simply by being honest.

If you speak honestly about what is true for YOU, then there is no need to prove yourself ‘right’ to anyone.

Every time you surrender to what you know is true, there is peace.
It’s the relief you feel after you break up with that person that you love but can no longer be in a relationship with, or the way you feel after you’ve finally deep cleaned your bathroom and folded the 27 pounds of clean laundry that have been staring at you for the past three days; there may not be dancing in the streets, but the feelings of relief, bit by bit, become more important than any feelings you may have about doing the things that you don’t want to do (even though you know that they are right FOR YOU).

This all brings me back to my original point about not feeling ready.
I’m pretty sure that I’m never going to feel ready to be wrong about the direction in which I thought my life was headed (Broadway-destined-permormer who has decided to leave her old dreams behind to move to Oregon and become a total hippie)...but...would I rather be right, or be at peace?

I heard a story recently about Dwayne –The Rock- Johnson. Dwayne started his career as a college football player, and while his greatest dreams were of starring (or starting? I blame my theatrical background) in the NFL, he only ever made it as far as the Canadian Football League, from which he was cut after only two months. Sad Dwayne. However, were it not for this little 'set back', it is entirely possible that he would not have gone on to become the man that he is today; an actor/producer who is widely regarded as one of the greatest professional wrestlers of all time, who was also the world’s highest-paid actor in 2016 and named ‘one of the 100 most influential people in the world’ by Time Magazine that same year.

He thought he was going to play for the NFL, and he was wrong. And while I’m guessing that he didn’t feel great about it then, he is probably very much at peace with it now.

I want to be at peace.

Even if I don't feel like doing the things that I know I need to do,
and even if it means being wrong about everything I thought I knew at the time.

In hindsight, I realize that being wrong has led me to some of the best people and moments in and of my life thus far.
Every single one of my best girls friends -and I mean EVERY SINGLE ONE- I was positive I was going to hate the first time I met them, and I certainly never felt like getting to know any of them any better.
Every time I felt like I couldn't afford something that I really wanted...I afforded it.
Every time I have come to New York City with the feeling that I was destined to stay forever, I have left...only to find myself immersed in a places and people that I could have never imagined.

Every time I haven't felt ready, I have been wrong.
And every time that I have been wrong, it has been right.

I may never feel ready...

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8/13/2017

Session EIGHT.

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The moment before:
It has been a busy and sleepless couple of days; the family that I work for came home for a short spell and I was in transit between a friends couch and the bed of a 7 year old who –thank fully- sleeps quite soundly, but whom I was terrified was going to roll out of the bed in the middle of the night and smash her lil’ noggin on the hard wood floor three feet below (we princesses like tall beds).
Up until 4 days ago I have been off of sugar (cleansing at the recommendation of a friend due to some less than ideal blood sugar levels), I haven’t had alcohol or caffeine for over three weeks, and I’m noticing a lot of hidden emotions that are buried beneath my eating habits and personal choices.

I'M HERE!!!

Rachael calls and I reach a T-rex claw-like arm out from the inside of my tightly woven blanket cocoon to answer my phone. I will lay there, wrapped up on the couch –eyes closed- for the next hour, as Rachael works my energy like a Harlem Globe Trotter works a basketball; with absolute skill and finesse.
She asks me for my intention, and one word pops into my brain and out of my mouth: “HONESTY.

My intention is honesty.

More specifically; 'being honest with myself about certain thoughts, attitudes, and behaviors that I’ve been aware of, and examining within myself for years, but have only recently begun to feel courageous enough to talk about in private...let alone, publish in a blog post.

an honest moment about honesty:

...It has never been my forte. I have never been great about sharing my true feelings if I fear that they may hurt or offend another, and especially if I believe that they might make me look less than perfect. I am an excellent keeper of other people's honesty -I do NOT believe in telling anyone else's secrets; not even to my shoes or my dog- but when it comes to my own true feelings about most things, I've done an excellent job -for most of my life- at manipulating my truth to accommodate my surroundings.

However, now, due to the work that Rachael and I have done, it seems that I can no longer keep quiet. It also seems that now, whenever I attempt to do so (to keep myself quiet), I am not able to turn the volume down without the assistance of outside resources.
i.e.; food, alcohol, etc.

Basically, as long as I can put something in, then nothing potentially harmful or distressing can come out.

So why honesty this week?
Because this week I attempted -and failed to complete- yet another dietary cleanse (we will come back to this) under the guise of 'helping myself' when in reality, I was seeking the means to control my emotional relationship with food.

Because I have an emotional relationship with food.
Because, since moving to NYC, I have been on the 'no carb left behind as long as I get to sit by myself in front of the TV and don't have to share with anyone' campaign trail.
Because when I am happy and my heart is good, I naturally eat well and get plenty of exercise, but, when I am in a place that is completely void of emotional nourishment, I turn to the toast. Or granola. Or ice cream. Or pizza. Or whatever is in my cabinet that I can cover in almond butter.

"Where does honesty fit in here?"
Rachael asked...

I'm not sure, and perhaps that is because I have spent years attempting to numb myself from a wide variety of feelings, and even longer trying not to be honest with myself about it.
In fact, up until recently, I have not had the courage to even acknowledge what I really want and who I really want to be, let alone to be honest about everything else that I have been doing to cover it up.
It's been a long time pattern -binge and restrict, diet and cave, exercise like a mad woman and then collapse a week later- as has been my need to control it; the redeeming moments of being complimented on my waist line or my clean diet, always out shadowed by my own judgmental thoughts;
'if they only knew what I looked like naked...'
or
'that's sweet, but I'm actually about five pounds away from receiving your compliment graciously'...just to name a few.

I know I am not alone in this.
I know I am not the only person in the world who can cry wolf over their life spinning out of control because they have decided to start eating _________ again.
However, I also know that no one ever really likes to talk about it.
Not just about what they are really feeling, but what they are doing to cover up what they are really feeling about any number of things.

As I discussed all of this with Rachael, I shared with her that I was carrying a lot of shame for not taking care of myself the way that I 'should' be.

Her response was totally awesome, and TOTALLY took me by surprise;

“The reason you’re feeling so bad that you’re not taking care of yourself in the way that you “should” is because you’ve actually been taking SUCH good care of yourself”
she tells me.
...
...
...
...

...ummmmmm...

whaaaaaaa?!?

(That one took a minute.)

How is it possible that I’ve been taking SUCH good care of myself, when I haven’t been doing any of the things that I am so use to doing?

I haven’t been following any kind of weight loss protocol (should)…
but I have been practicing kindness and mindfulness with myself and my body (good).

I haven’t been following a strict exercise routine (should)…
but I have been listening to my body and how it wants to move, and doing my best to oblige (good).

I haven’t been obsessively trying to get a million things done every day and packing my schedule from sun-up to sun-down because that’s what productive people do and it’s the only way to get ahead in life (should)…
but I have been lounging on the sofa and reading and watching a lot of funny and interesting television and movies all summer (good).

And I do believe that one of my goals for this time; my time alone in NYC and working with Rachael, was to get in touch with what I really needed and develop a relationship with myself and my body that is based on feeling good, sustainably…

So...maybe...I HAVE been taking really good care of myself?
Question mark?

Over the past six months, I’ve actually been giving myself exactly what I’ve needed, but it has looked sooooo much different from anything that I am use to seeing myself do, that it’s been hard to recognize.

Self-Care use to look like eating within strict guidelines and never missing a workout -except for the days that I didn’t leave the couch and ate ice cream for dinner- for fear of losing some part of the identity that I was so desperately trying to reinforce: ‘Super fit-and-healthy dancer girl’.
Self-care also looked like talking a big compassion/motivation game, while simultaneously berating myself for even THINKING about wanting something sweet or deep fried.
I was so obsessed with the idea of Self-care, that I didn't realize it had become an antonym for everything it once stood for. It became stressful. It took up every hour of the day that was not consumed with another scheduled activity, was very rarely based in the present moment, and ultimately, became used as a path to perfection.

And then,
I moved back to NYC.

And in a town of eight and a half million people, no one really gives a shit about how 'well' I am taking care of myself...or whether or not I am perfect...but me.
And, as it turns out, I don't actually care as much as I thought I did.
I moved back to NYC, and I was free. Free of the labels, free of the responsibility of appearing a certain way (no-one cares), and free to re-define my agenda. Self-care included.
Upon my arrival to NYC, I wanted to do nothing but sleep. And so I did. I also realized that I was totally fed up with dieting and exercising to compensate for my percieved inadequacies as a human being, so I stopped doing both. I started meditating more, saying prayers at night, and doing things like walking and reiki to take care of myself and to heal the pieces of me that felt broken. I reveled in my alone time, and lost all desire to date, socialize, or do anything that took more energy then I had to give. I watched lots and lots of funny TV shows and movies, ate a lot of pizza, drank a lot of wine, did my best to get 10,000 steps a day (sometimes), and threw the left over scraps of my former rule book into the metaphorical fire…along with my skinny jeans, my booty shorts and all of the other superfluous items that I had been carrying around with me –and not using- for years.

And then,
when I had to buy bigger pants,
I didn’t lose my mind.

“Why did you REALLY stop the cleanse?”

Rachael asked me as we continued our discussion,

“And what did you get out of it?”

Honestly? Honestly.

Why did I really stop the cleanse? I stopped cleansing because I needed to hit the re-set button on my personal motivators. I was attempting to commit to its completion from a place of fear, not love.
Fear tells me that I have something to prove, love tells me that I already know exactly what I need to do to take care of myself, and reminds me to be brave, compassionate and patient in doing so.
Also, I was not doing it 100% for myself, and I no longer wish to live a life based on pleasing others.

What did I get out of the cleanse? The reminder that I already know what is best for me. That I know full well how to take care of myself, and that doing things that are in-authentic to me in the name of someone or something else does NOT create motivation or resilience, but rather resentment and fear.

I already know...

'I already know'.
How many times has Rachael said this to me over the past four months?

“You already know everything I’m telling you”…
“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know”…
“You already know the answers”

Session 8, I got it;
I already know.

I know that it is safe to trust myself, and I know that I already have all of the answers to my questions.

“Oh! Oh my Gosh!" I said.
"Here I am! I am here!”

*lightbulb moment*

We both laughed
:-)

I am HERE.
Here, where I have wondered -for as long as I can remember- if I would ever be.
Here, where I trust and believe that I actually know myself.
Here, where I know and believe that I can actually trust myself.
Here, where I no longer need to commit to anything that doesn’t feel right, and I am free to commit to what does…
and then make a change if it feels right, and not make a move until it does.
Here where I can love myself, and speak up for myself, and follow my own instincts without the weight of anyone else on my mind or in my heart.

Here, where I no longer need to deny that I ALREADY KNOW (what I want, what is best for me, what is true in my heart)…because I do.
I already Know.
You already Know.
We ALL ALREADY KNOW.
And it is enough to trust what we Know.
And that is so freaking awesome.

What I didn’t know until this moment –the moment that I knew that I knew- is that THIS is why I began reiki in the first place; to clear the crap and clutter that was standing in the way of me knowing what I Know… what I have always Known;
That I do, have, and always will, indeed, already Know.
It may not always be pretty, it may not always be what I want it to be, but at least I can finally feel like I have all the facts, because they are my facts, and that is all that I need. It’s all that I have ever needed, and all that I will ever need.

It is just me -who I have always been, and who I have been waiting to be all along- me; Known.

for more info on cteh -or- to work with rachael, click here!

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8/6/2017

Bye Week 7.

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I can still remember with incredible clarity the first time I ever saw the mountains. My parents and I were driving from Iowa City, Iowa to Crested Butte, Colorado for a summer performing arts camp. They were to teach, and I was to take. As we gradually got closer and closer to our final destination, I remember my mother saying to me: “look momo, see the mountains?” I gazed off into the distance, and squinted my eyes just enough to make out the rough edges of the impending terrain…it looked like one giant hill. But as we drew closer, that one giant hill began to disperse into large, majestic bodies of land and snow and trees and rivers, grander than anything I had ever seen in my life.

They were indeed the mountains, and they were sensational.

This has been a lot like my experience in New York over the past six months. When I arrived, I felt like my task was singular; to scale what appeared to be the greatest hill I could climb. However, as I set out to do so, I found that the mound of rocks and dirt in front of me was actually one piece in a giant set –a mountain range, if you will- and suddenly, being able to see the whole picture made the idea of that first climb a lot less intimidating.

In my last session with Rachael, discovering that I could move to Oregon (or anywhere of my choosing) and write (or do anything of my choosing) and listen to my heart and live life on my own terms was like catching a glimpse of the entire range vs. just the one mountain. Suddenly, performing on Broadway became a PIECE of the puzzle…instead of the whole thing. By removing the pressure of ‘all or nothing’, the waters of creation and imagination were/are able to flow, and my whole energy has shifted. In the past two weeks, I’ve found myself dreaming up all kinds of infinite possibilities for my life; a life that I have always thought would go only one of two ways; I would either stay in NY and live ‘the dream’ –or- I would move back home to New Mexico, get my psychology degree, become a therapist for at-risk youth, get married, have babies, and ship them off to my parents farm for the summers so that my husband and I could wander Europe together. Now, it looks like I could move to Oregon, write my books, have a million outdoor adventures, work in theatre on the West Coast, and go from there...or anything else that I want, which does not have to include or exclude any of the aforementioned possibilities, but rather, greatly expands the repertoire of desire all together.

With the inception of the Oregon plan, it’s like I can suddenly see MUCH further down the road than ever before.

Most importantly, I no longer feel stuck, which comes as a giant relief.

I still feel like I need to audition, even though my heart knows that I don't need to ‘achieve’ any tangible result for it to be worth my time. I am praying for financial solvency, and booking a big contract would definitely be one way, but I know that it's not the only way, just the thought patterns that I have become most accustom to.
Part of my heart feels sad, like it is attempting to mourn the life that I was so certain that I was going to have (NY, B-way etc.) and I also can’t shake the curiosity about 'how would I feel if I WAS indeed living that life; might I feel a lot differently about New York if I could actually afford to live here without so much financial stress?
I also know Broadway performers worry about money and life just like everyone else. A show can close, an ankle can break, shit happens.

The other part of my heart –when I remember to check in with it- feels like it is soaring with new energy. It is so ready to go and expand and explore what lies beyond the wild blue yonder. To navigate life in ways that I have never dared to try; with ultimate trust and faith, knowing that the answers are always inside of me, and always guiding me towards fulfilling my heart, and experiencing my greatest, ever-expanding, human potential.

I no longer feel that I have to close a door in order to open a window.
The rooms are available, all the time, to all of us.
The only choice we have to make is which one we feel called to explore.

“Fear is the neon sign post over the door, telling you exactly where you need to go”.
-Beth Clayton

Over the weekend, following lots of meditation, I began the process of releasing items that I associate with old identities. I ended up throwing out all of my old head shots, and picking about 9 songs from my 2 giant music books that I really love to sing, and threw the rest out. I threw out all of my dance shoes (donated) minus my tap shoes which I wanted to keep, and got rid of everything that doesn't fit right (things that I was saving for when I was ‘as skinny as I was last summer’) which managed to fill FOUR boxes. When I go to my next home, I will be able to transport everything I have in 2 duffel bags and a backpack.

Beginnings have become endings,
endings have become beginnings,
and I want to be a part of all of it.

I am so scared.
And so excited.
:-)

for more info on cteh -or- to work with rachael, click here!

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