The other day, in my Are You Open to Receiving post, I shared a journaling exercise I use whenever I notice any triggering "I am..." voices wafting through my brain.
These painful "I am..." statements show up in our psyches as shame.
I thought it might be helpful for you, if you're wanting more clarity on all of this, if I walked one of my recent shame triggers through the exercise. I personally learn better through examples, and I assume I'm not alone.
So, I’m the luckiest girl in the world: for my birthday last year, my mom bought me a reading with Donna Somerville, a spiritual channel. It was one of those presents where my immediate response was a big, excited, “ugh, you just get me!”
As February crops up—a month that for some reason got pegged as the most romantic—I'm compelled to talk about 'intimacy.' Not in the culturally normative 'physical' sense; I'm talking about a much broader form of intimacy that can be shared between friendships, family members, and that cashier you've never formally met but keep running into at the grocery store.
I'm sure many of you have heard of the book The Artist's Way—one of the exercises it recommends is to sit down for 3-minutes first thing in the morning and write a 'brain dump,' stream-of-consciousness style, about anything and everything on your mind. It helps clear your head of all the junk swimming inside. A friend of mine recently reminded me of this tool and so, this morning, I did it. But it turned into more of a motivational poem than a bunch of jibberish, so I thought it might be fun to share with you here.
One thing I've noticed is that whenever I fall out of flow on this site, it's because there's some part of my shadow I'm not addressing; something I'm not able to speak to from an authentic place. And lately, my ability to write has been marred by politics.
A few weeks back my husband and I took a relatively impromptu trip to Big Sur, California.
We were both, independently (and also, by default, together) in a funk. But we both, independently (and together) really love beautiful new places—so we consciously left our funkiness in LA and let the Pacific Coast Highway views fill us up with new life.
What a strange year it has been. It's hard to say when the fog rolled in. It must have been early March. It rolled in slowly—crept in, rather, as it always does. By the time I noticed it was there, it felt hauntingly familiar.
Last week I shared a breakthrough I had about my self-worth as it related to body image, and the unhealthy story I was STILL telling myself.
This week I want to talk about a second breakthrough I had, while in the middle of my first, because, well... because you can’t time this shit to fit your schedule.
I have been hibernating. Lost in space. Hangin' solo. I don't know if it was the moon, the earth's shift into some other level of consciousness, or what (let's be honest I think it was both), but I have been navigating some seriously heavy feelings of late. It's not too dramatic, but I've been extremely introspective.
I liken it to my self-love 'origin' story, at least in the sense that it may have been the first time I really understood that I was (a) responsible for my own growth and (b) capable of achieving it. At the end of this story, I'm going to offer a tool that you can try at home. With any luck, you will achieve a similar feeling of enlightenment, love, and self-forgiveness that I did.
Each blind presents an obstacle, of which there are many. The bright spots between the blinds represent the little joys, the moments of happiness, the feeling of connection and synchronicity—frankly, all the elements people allude to while trying to convince you that "life is beautiful."