I forgot who I was.
I spent time remembering.
Only to forget again.
I forgot who I was.
I spent time remembering.
Only to forget again.
We all have art inside of us. There is not a survival based reason for us to love beautiful things so much we create them, and yet, we do. Always. History shows us that we humans have been making art for as long as we have been on this spinning planet.
We make our art because it is the song of our soul. We make art because we have so much in us, it must be expressed. We make art beccause it makes us smile. We make art because it invites us to weep. We make art. It is what we do.
Everyone, for real, everyone has a whisper of creative energy in their soul. Should an individual choose to attempt to silence the whisper, it will still show up somewhere. When are not intentionally creating expressive things, we are likely destroying some part of our life. Creating destruction as an outlet.
Where are you creating? Where are you destroying? There is a power in both and we will cycle through the duality again and again as we travel our path. We will be in seasons of blissful creation and we will claw through seasons of everything falling down around us.
And through all this, we long for beautiful things. So much so that even the darkness, we look for the light and make art.
What are you going to create today?
I previously functioned (sort of) in a state of rollercoaster emotions. Sudden drops after significantly slower climbs. It was exhausting. One day, and also over the course of all the days of my life, I was ready to get off the rollercoaster.
And so I did.
I started practices. Yoga. Breathwork. Tracking my cycle. Tracking the moon. Getting up an hour earlier, I create space for myself and read close to a hundred books. I wrote. I started a list of 10,000 things I’m grateful for. It all became practice in a mystic remembering. I practiced to ease emotion. I practiced to invite buried emotion to the surface. I practiced to feel good.
And now I do.
I feel good. I am remembering who I am. I am practicing. Every day. And now, the emotions are like a Ferris Wheel. It spins slowly at a even pace. Stopping now and again and I am suspended in an emotional state for a bit. And then we start moving again. Even and slow. Up and down. Cycle after cycle.
And I ease. And I practice.
And I enjoy the ride.
The path of healing yourself is the walk of the warrior. It is messy and tricky and some of the hardest work of a lifetime.
Do it anyway.
It is worth it.
If you want to have the life you dream of, you must dare to heal. Actively and with intention walking into the darkest part of yourself. Healing is an excavation. It is digging up all the things you tried to bury, ego thinking it is very clever. Follow ego and you will find the cache of shit festering. You will find the hurts, the wounds, the worries, all waiting for release.
Do it anyway.
Do it anyway, every day for as long as you can. Then take a couple days to process when it gets too heavy. Then do it again. Keep digging in. Keep unearthing those unhealed pockets of pain. Each day, you will be stronger. It won’t feel like it. Some days you might feel like you are worse off than when you first stepped down this path. Hang in there. Be gentle with yourself. This is how it happens. You feel all the things you have been running from and that shit is heavy.
Do it anyway.
There is a space created after the digging. Releasing wounds brings a lightness. As more is healed, more space is created. This is the sweet spot. This space allows for the magic of living to shine in. Things get interesting and funny. You begin to see the world in a new way and a sense of gratitude can support this process in a very loving way.
There is a certain bravery required to intentionally heal yourself. It will challenge you in ways you are not able to conceptualize when the pain is leading. The very core of your existence may be shaken.
Do it anyway.
You are the warrior. This is your walk.
I want to wander. Get lost in cities. Learn new things in new countries. Make new memories with old friends all over the globe.
I spent the last week doing just that. I don’t know if I have the words yet to describe the shift happening in my mind. There was a block in conceptualizing what biggest dreaming and manifesting looked like. That block is gone. I know what I want because I know how it feels now.
I know how it feels to be surrounded by history. I know how it feels to visit a place I fell in love with in a book. I know how it feels to know I can handle international travel. I know how dusk in London feels. I know how it feels to meet people half way across the globe who might be a connection to a manifestation. I know how it feels to watch for bikes when crossing the street in Amsterdam. I know how it feels to be surrounded by people speaking languages I have never heard. I know how it feels now because I did it.
A year ago, this would have been a very different trip. A year ago I don’t think I would have gone. And if I did, I would have been white knuckling my way through it. So caught up in my own dysfunctions that I would have missed the entire thing. There were moments when that old me, that ego lead me, wanted to come out and ruin the fun. There was whispers of fears and doubts. I just decided not to listen. I would stop, look around, breathe and know I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Anxiety didn’t drive the car on this trip. True self was in charge and without the work and healing I have been intentionally and lovingly diving into I might not have known she should be leader
To feel is to create. I have some stunning clarity on how I really want to feel. There were moments when I realized this would be the kind of trip I would later recall as having changed my whole damn life. A knowing that something revolutionary was happening, a knowing about how I would never be the same again. An excitement, a hum, a spark, found on a trip that became an adventure into self.
We have the exact existence we want. We want what we believe we can have. What would happen if we expanded our belief?
Check out my gallery to see more pics from the trip! Thanks for being here!
Distraction dilutes our power. Waters down our intentions and drains our creative energy. This is an easy enough thing for me to type here. It is a much harder thing to be aware of in the moment. Awareness is the first step in aligning with our power.
When we allow ourselves to let our focus drift away from those things lighting us up, we are sending the message to our manifestations to stay small. We are saying, no thank you to inspiration because we know how inspiration is. Inspiration invites us to live our biggest lives. Sometimes we decline and stay in distraction. And sometimes that is okay. Keep an eye out though. You might have an interesting experience if you listen to the whispers of inspiration.
I set the intention to post a new blog weekly and I am aligned with the intention. Even still, this morning I lingered in my mornings rituals. I dilly dally-ed on the yoga mat. I took some pictures and spent some time on Instagram. All enjoyable and I could easily tell myself it is all finding what feels good and therefore lovely distraction and that makes it worth it. Lovely, yes. Worth it, no. I was inviting in distraction because intentionally showing up on a schedule and writing something to share with the interwebs feels a little too far outside of my comfort zone.
I was distracting myself in an effort of ego to stay small.
So I stopped.
I put my phone away. I cleared my desk. I got my laptop and I started writing. Because I am aligned with intentional living and distraction is issuing an invitation I polite decline.
Music is a time machine. There are songs, albums, riffs, bass lines, lyrics, all created by artists and owned by listeners. Moments frozen in time, fossilized in the melody of memories.
I bet you have boarded this time machine before. I venture a guess it is not always intentional. You don’t control all music, after all. A song will sneak in even the most carefully cultivated playlists. You are casually driving down the road and suddenly you are riding a flying box through space and time back to “that” moment.
The first note of the song plays and instantly you are 16 years old again. You are in the car with your girls, hearing Outkast for the first time ever and knowing your life was never going to be the same again. Your life is never the same after you truly fall in love with hip hop.
You are listening to dance music as you clean the kitchen. The bass drops and your surroundings disappear as you are transported to the first rave you ever experienced. The music, the light, the sound, the people. These magical kids, all moving to these insane mixes of sonic bursts. The song builds again and you are no longer a middle aged suburban mom, you are back there, back then. You are part of something bigger than yourself again. A piece of a living breathing energy, dancing until well after the sun came up.
You and your love are on the way to Costco for another box of diapers. The radio is playing and your kids are doing their best to drown it out. Then that song starts, that one special song. The first sweet moments of falling in love come racing back to you as the first sweet moments of the melody drop you off in the moment when you realized you had found your person. This song will always remind you of that night. A song you once used to send him a message through music. A message of sound to say you were ready for him. The night you entire life really did change forever.
The soundtracks of our lives are as varied as we all are. There is one thing that unites all those soundtracks, they are all time machines of the most delightful variety.
What’s your time machine?
The value placed on get up and go-ness in our culture is steep. We reward motivated action. We will cheer for the start. We applaud the new beginning. The initiation of focused action. You started, we say. You got this, we say. We are excellent cheerleaders when our team is making a drive.
The part that comes next, not so much.
The muck of transformation is of little to no interest to the collective. We don’t want to see the messy parts. The tears. The pain. The feelings and emotions are too big for us. Too loud. Too wild. Too much.
This step is where motivation fails us. Wanting isn’t the same as doing. Motivation is a spark. We supply the fuel to keep the fire burning. Every transmutation of pain is fodder.
The transmutation can start with curiosity. A question. A query into self. When we get curious we observe. When we observe we become the observer.
If you want to heal yourself, get curious.
There is magic in the every day. Tiny moments tinted with mysticism. Interested in finding magic? How about three suggestions?
The first suggestion is also the most important. Slow down. Take a moment to be. Breathing and observing the breath plugs you into the energy of the universe. It might take a while to get comfortable with the breathing and awareness of breath as a delightful dance of magic, stick with it. It’s so worth it!
The second suggestion is the most fun. Make things! While it does not matter what the things are, it is deeply enriching to make the things. We are curious creatures and we have been making things as a collective for as long as we have inhabited this lush planet.
Make paper airplanes
Make magazine worthy beds.
Make sidewalk galleries with chalk.
Create and build and deconstruct and tinker and redesign and make make make the things!
Don’t think you can? Try. Get a new pack of crayons. Check out a book from your local library. Find a kit. Watch a YouTube tutorial. Learn. Grow a thing. It is an experience shimmering with mystic vibration.
The third and final selection for this post is simple. Connect.
Connect to people.
Connect to plants.
Connect to pets.
Connect to sports.
Connect to art.
Connect to music.
Connect to cities.
Connect to water.
Be a part of something. It will remind you of the magic of belonging.
I have been seeking out the mystic path and it has changed my life. One tiny moment at a time. With each glimpse of enchanted living, I knew I wanted more. I sensed the power of an existence spent embracing the ethereal essence of being human. I invited the magic of life to be the light illuminating the dark night of the soul. And everything shifted.
Each day, I move through the world with my eyes open, watching for the magic. The perfect song at the perfect moment. The laughs and squeals of my kids playing. The smell of the marinara my amazing husband makes, inviting you into the kitchen as soon as you open the front door. When a friend texts you at the same moment you reached for your phone to text them. Parking near the front of the store. These are all little magical things that weave through my days, sprinkling pixie dust on my experience.
I’d love to hear your suggestions. How do you find magic?
Finding what feels good is a process of layers. The first layer is figuring out what does not feel so good. Once you have that information, you are able to redirect when you are leaning toward the not so good feelings.
Next step, and my favorite right now, is the unveiling of that which does feel good. This step involves a lot of trial and error. There is a beauty in the process. I honor the sacred process of discovery and enjoy the digging.
Each and every day, we choose who we are. Each day we follow motivations. For me, I want those motivations to be about what feels good, what lights my soul up and keeps me tuned in and turned on.
I keep searching, joyfully and with excitment.
What feels good for you? I would love to hear about your process of finding!