Sunday, June 12, 2016

Difficult Lessons, Balance, and Gratitude

The last few weeks have been difficult for me. I had daily panic attacks for over a week. Somehow, after they were over, I would forget that I had them. A week ago last Monday, I had a really bad one while I was out running errands. During it, I realized I'd been having them every day and forgetting about them. I took stock, and recognized that my body was asking for rest and self care. I spent most of a week in contraction. I got virtually nothing done during this time, but I slept and rested as much as my body asked. I drank tons of water. I nourished my body, and slowly allowed my mind, emotions, spirit, and energy come back to a place of balance.

Except that I didn't. Come to balance, that is. The last week, I began experiencing something disturbing. It was not constant, but repeatedly, for a day, or half a day, or sometimes as little as a few hours, my energy would feel like it stopped moving. I would no longer be able to move my energy consciously. I would not be able to ground (to the earth below me), a skill which generally comes to me as effortlessly as breathing. I could not connect to trees, to the earth, nor shift my energy at all. When this happened, I would tremble, shakes caused by the chaos in my nervous system. It was deeply unsettling, and frightening.

Today, I believe I gained some insight on what has been happening. I was being given a clear picture of the state of masculine energy in my body. It is a mess. I am not connected to masculine source. The masculine energy remaining in my body is weak and not flowing. It also feels like I have been too out of balance to allow me to heal my relationship to feminine. Like trying to run an electrical circuit that is only connected to ground, nothing moves, nothing happens.

Seeing clearly that this has been a lesson I've been slow to receive has reduced my anxiety around what I experienced. The lesson itself has shown me where I need to focus. I need to be sourced above as below. I need to balance myself. I need both the yin and the yang. One is insufficient.

I am hearing this valuable lesson my body was giving me. I begin this next stage of my journey in gratitude to the teaching and to the discomfort and pain that would not let me ignore it, and that would not let me move on without the learning I needed.

Are you listening to the lessons in your greatest areas of pain? Does my story resonate with you, or call up any response? I am listening, and appreciate anything you have to share.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Daily Log - 2015-08-26

In my coaching call last night, I committed to the following:
1 time per day, I will spend at least 5 minutes checking in with myself about what I need right now.
3 times per day, I will clear myself of lingering effects of feeling other people's emotions, problems, and burdens.

This was consistent with me showing myself self love, and with my ongoing efforts to shed unfelt, or stored emotions, with the desire to no longer be held back by my past.


Checking in with what I need.
This happened throughout the day.  I was thinking of it as I packed to move to Valencia.  I was thinking of it as I drove to Valencia.  I thought of it as I prepared for my call tonight.  Net result, I need a couple nights of good sleep, and good food.

Clearing my energetic field.
I did this once in the morning before I left Chulilla.  I did it again later in the evening during a work lull.  I expect to do it again before I finish my coaching call tonight, and once after.

Saturday, July 4, 2015


I am resisting so hard.  For over a week, all I have actively felt about doing the work is resistance.  With my relationship to power.  With my desire to connect to people.  With conversations about myself, and about others.

Writing about my resistance ties my stomach up in a knot.  I feel like vomiting.  I feel like I can't take any more of this.  I feel like I cannot let go.  I feel like I have this filthy crap inside of me.  My body just wants it gone and I won't let go.

I really, really want to do an ayahuasca journey.  I don't know how, or where to make that happen.  I don't want to go back to Arizona for it.  Right now, I want to leave the man that hid in Arizona behind me.

I feel like someone has punched me in the gut.  I have ice water in my bowels.  My stomach is churning and clenched.  My diaphragm is barely moving it is so knotted up.  Breathing is hard.  I'm crying.  My legs feel tight, and not numb, exactly, but kind of numb the way you feel after trying to tighten a muscle as much as possible for hours at a time.  My thighs, the front of my shins, my feet all feel like this.  So do my neck, shoulders, lower back, scalp, and forehead.

Oddly though, the knot I've felt for so long between my right shoulder blade and my chest isn't there.  My only difficulty breathing is from my diaphragm.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

A Love Letter to Myself


You are smart.  You are funny and witty.  You make amazing puns.  Your ability to think sideways is astonishing.  Your intuition is almost scary sometimes.  It's like you can see right through me.

I'm humbled by how well you move and by how strong you are.  You inspire me and many others to do more, try more, and test their limits more.

Your vulnerability is sexy.  It makes me want to know more about you.  It makes me want to be closer to you.  It makes me want to hold you and open up to you.

Your ability to solve problems is impressive.  You tackle hard situations with flair, and you always provide insight when anyone else brings you their challenges.

Your ability to communicate is stunning.  You so often bring disparate people together and handle miscommunication effectively.  You seem to know what people really mean and understand when people aren't connecting to each other, and know how to help them connect.

Your compassion and love leave me speechless.  I've never experienced a heart as open and deep as yours.  You truly treat every person as an equal, and you show everyone unconditional, and non-judgemental love.  It blows me away.

Your generosity is impressive and intimidating.    You have a giving spirit and it honors the best inside of us.

Your willingness to face yourself, face your demons, your shame, your darkness, and to work on it constantly is beautiful.  I want to be like you, and I am inspired by your example to keep facing my own work.

I love you, Sean.  You are perfect, and I want to be around you.  Thank you for being in my life.  Thank you for letting me see with your eyes.  Thank you for allowing me to be myself, for better or worse, while still helping me along if I ask for it.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

My Angry Body

Sean: I am listening.


Sean: I hear you.

Body: WE HURT!

Sean: I hear you.


Sean: I thought you might.  I'm going to keep listening anyway.

Today, I lay in bed and rest.  Drink lots of water.  Eat as well as I can.  Sleep.  Sleep.  Sleep.

I cannot tell if this is "rest, you've got a lot coming," or, "rest, you did too much," but either way, I'm listening.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Body over Mind

Why am I crying right now?

I feel like this is the time to put things in order before I fly away on my personal journey.  Leaving the US feels like escape.

My body is saying rest, but my mind is saying, "rush, rush, rush, so you can put this behind you."  I am listening to my body, but it is astonishingly hard.

Thank you, body, for speaking to me.  I'm listening ... even when the message isn't what I want to hear.

Listening with Deaf Ears

Today, I woke uncomfortable, aching and tired.  Oddly enough, my first thought past checking the time was, "what do I need?  I'm listening."  Unfortunately, I'm not hearing.

Throughout the day, I've stopped, collected myself, and tried to listen.  "What do I need?  What should I do?"  Still, I am not hearing.

Because it was necessary, I faced the downpour and fetched my passport, in shorts and a raincoat, often wading through the water between sidewalks.  Passport in hand, I tried to take stock of what I needed.  Getting nothing, I procured lunch to go, and went back to the hotel room.

This afternoon, I've been working, engaged with people, and not getting much time for myself.  I've steadily worsened to a painful headache and a cough that makes it much worse.  Still trying to listen.  Still not hearing.

I'm off my last call.  I've taken a break.  I am listening.  I need better food than I know how to find from my hotel room.  I need water - not soda, water.  I need rest.

I'll take a hot bath, and see where I am.  If I can muster up enough energy, I think I'm a 10 minute walk from Rouses, a Louisiana grocery chain.  Maybe I can find some edible, raw vegetables there.  Then, I think I'll take the evening off, with a goal of being asleep by 10 pm, if not earlier.

I am listening.  I am open to listening.  I hear I am sick.  I'll do what I can to recover.