Your Body Is Not Your Enemy

Let me set the scene for you.

We’re sitting on the couch, my husband and I, my nose buried in his shoulder. I’m weeping, beside myself with a ball of grief and failure burning through my chest like fire, wiping snot on his arm, making noises that are approximations of words, but no one can know for sure. I have auto-immune issues that after several years of being in remission have reared their ugly head starting sometime last December and have now flared with the vengeance of a fifteen-year-old girl who lost her cellphone privileges and is punishing her parents. I can’t sit very long without pain. I can’t stand very long without pain. And moving from one of those positions to the other also hurts quite a bit. I am not strong. I am weak. I am in pain. I am frustrated, angry, and deeply sad.

He’s so patient, my husband, and the very best kind of person, who has actually been listening to me over the preceding twelve years of marriage together, so that when I fall apart like this, he can throw all the things I’ve said back in my face. Which is wonderful and exactly what I need.

“I’m a failure,” I moan, “I’m tired of being sick and in pain,” or something close to that, anyway. There’s some grunting and high-pitched wails.

I thought I had beat this thing. I really did! Almost four great years,” is what I was trying to say. Probably it sounded more like, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaablubblubblub, but he knew what I meant anyway, because he’s very clever.

What about all the inspirational stuff you say all the time? You’re enough? You can do hard things? You’re right where you’re supposed to be, right?” my husband asks, rubbing my arm and reaching for the gentlemanly handkerchief he keeps in his back left pocket, just like my father always did. Sadly, I think we’re way past saving his shirt at this point.

My shoulders and hips are aching because of the awkward position I’m in, twisted to be closer to him, possibly to climb inside his skin. Sharp pains call attention to my right ovary where a golf ball-sized cyst has recently burst and has begun slowly exhaling in excruciating slowness. I must turn my body straight or I’ll be up for hours with throbbing in all my joints and unable to sleep.

You believe in Divine Timing,” he reminds me as he dries my cheeks and begins to corral the snot stream from my swollen nose.

Oh, stop it. I did believe in it. I did believe all those things! But maybe not now,” I blubber. I grab some tissues and help in the clean-up attempt of my face. My head begins to pound. Oh, I’m really starting to feel sorry for myself now. “I mean, I can’t even help put the laundry away! Or load the dishwasher!” I flourish my right arm about to emphasize my point.

Which are absolute facts, by the way. Bending from the waist sends waves of throbbing pain down my right leg. I can’t squat, either, because I’ve lost most of the strength in my thighs. I refuse to take the heavy painkillers, mostly because they make me feel so nauseated, but also they make me useless and I wouldn’t get any laundry or dishes loaded anyway. Pain or nausea, pain or nausea. Another thing to feel sad about. A fresh wave of tears hits me like a tsunami.

So. You believe all that stuff you say, but only on your good days, is that it?” He looks steadily at me with his blue eyes, a slight twinkle in the right one and blankets of love in both. “The whole point is that you believe it on the bad days, too.

I immediately stop brandishing my ineffective arms around and get very still. The truth of what he says sings to my heart.

I think I’m different than everyone else, apparently. I’m destined to only have good days, is that it? All the things I’ve told my clients over the years come rushing back to me. Go easy on yourself. There will be good days after the bad days, you just have to wait it out. Self care is paramount. Learn to say no without guilt. Create your healing cocoon.

Your body is not your enemy. It’s trying to save your life. Have gratitude.

IMG_4105My husband, who insists he knows nothing about the healing arts, leans down and kisses my red and puffy face with a fierce tenderness that could slay a dragon.

“Being ill sucks and hurts and is the very worst, but it is not a failure,” I say out loud to him. He nods and then turns on Netflix and an episode of 30 Rock where Tina Fey’s character, Liz Lemon, allows her boyfriend, Dennis Duffy, to move in with her and he calls her dummy, in a sort-of affectionate way, which she puts up with.

Liz Lemon needs more affirmations regarding self-worth,” I tell him. And he sagely nods.

(Also, this.)

Oh, Fall, You Cruel Mistress

I love this time of year, I said, in super serious sincerity.
Jeans.
Boots.
Chunky sweaters. (HAHAHAHAHAhahahaha just kidding. It hasn’t been lower than 75 and it’s going to be 93 on Friday.)
Hot drinks make more sense (because I drink them even in the sweltering heat of summer).
Less people at the beach, which leaves more room to enjoy the gorgeous sunsets.
The promise of holidays around the corner and the chance to see family.
Things feel, I don’t know, more cozy.

And then it all starts to tilt sideways.

The first thing that happens is my mind starts to whirrrr with the possibilities of ideas. This part is exiting! Yay! New ideas! And then the moon turns blood red and mercury goes into retrograde and too many people get into pumpkin flavored EVERYTHING [Et Tu, Chobani!?] and whoopsie, that’s where the tilting starts.

Just when I’m thinking about all the awesome things I’d like to do, my mind/body won’t cooperate. Like, Shut Down for business. Taking a shower becomes an Olympic event and staring out the window at the dappled sunshine on the patio is as much movement that happens for hours. The leaves are so beautiful! They’re so beautiful I guess I’ll cry about it.

I remember this. It happens in the fall of every year. Some years it’s more severe than others. The cosmic energy shifts and suddenly watching a documentary narrated by David Attenborough where a seal pup doesn’t make it will keep me in tears for hours because the pup’s mom is clearly in pain and grieving as she bellows into the rocks and hugs her lifeless pup with her neck and chest and head.

And then one afternoon I’m skimming through feeds and follow a link to a NYT piece about Rosemary Kennedy and I can’t sleep, the pain and grief are so poignant and sharp in my chest. (Seriously, don’t read that, or anything about Rosemary Kennedy’s life if you aren’t in a strong place.) I can barely whisper, “I read about Rosemary Kennedy’s life today,” to Joe as he’s falling asleep. “Do you need to go talk to someone about that,” asks Joe, who of course has previously understood how unfairly she was treated and is now looking at me with eyes filled with great concern, understanding how deeply I might be feeling this.

I shake my head no, wait for him to start breathing deeply, and then turn over and play a couple of hours of Nat Geo Bonza puzzles on my phone until my mind numbs enough and I can join him. The sound of Joe’s steady breathing pulls me into dreams where old, tired scenes are played out filled with people from my past.

When I woke up this morning I realized two things:
1. This is my 44th year on this planet and not one previous fall ever prepares me for the one-two-punch of a coming September and October.
2. If fall is all about the holidays, I’m making a new one called The Autumnal Melancholia Festival (trademark copyright hashtagCryTogether hashtagSeasonOfFeelings). We shall wear jeans, boots, chunky sweaters, (HAHAHAHA) sit around sipping hot lavender tea (that’s a thing, right?) and cry about deeply moving things that hurt our hearts this time of year. We can be introspective and clear our throats a lot. I might have some clever hankies in a drawer somewhere. We’ll do art. You’re all invited. Bring a scarf and a dark-colored, corduroy jacket. No membership fees. Who’s in?

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I made this drawing of me at age 4. I wanted to remember that at one time, I did have sparkle in my eyes and I was happy as a kid. My thoughts this time of year turn inky, deep, and sad, so it helps to look at this version of myself while I wait for November to arrive. And November WILL arrive, my friends. (If you’re reading this, you aren’t annihilated. Congratulations. And life continues as per usual. Starting after The Autumnal Melancholia Festival, I mean.)

Heal Something Good – 2015 Edition This Fall!

smREVISED_HealingSomethingGood_FrontCover_v2 copyI’m super excited to announce that an updated edition of my book, Heal Something Good, will be coming this fall! It holds new research, new material, and new tips.

The one down side to this is that when the current version of my book is taken down from Amazon and Lulu, I’ll lose the sales standing and reviews.

To encourage reviews (and ultimately sales) of the new edition, we’re offering a free pdf of Heal Something Good to anyone who is willing to leave a review on either Amazon or Lulu when the new version comes out. And for those that actually do leave a review, we’ll send you a free printed copy of the book.

If you’d like to participate, please email me here.

And a special offer to those who already own the first edition – I’d like to offer you the new edition at cost if you’d like to upgrade. Let me know. <3

Releasing Grief

WaterFigureI’ve had my fair share of grief over the years and when you have a real conversation with just about anyone, you realize they, too, have had theirs. We live on the surface so much of the time, nodding our heads hello and nice to see you, which is to be expected when we’re all surviving with our heads just above the surface.

I’ve learned that to release grief and move beyond it, you truly have to feel it. That can be scary. It can feel like you’re probably going to die. There are usually a lot of tears involved and sometimes kicking pillows or throwing rocks into the sea followed by deep, cavernous silences that go on forever and never reach the bottom of your soul, occasionally ticking the sides making an other-worldly clanging sound.

For me, now, it involves some kind of conversation with God. A lot of me telling Him why I’m feeling so sad and a lot of Him listening. What I love about my conversations with God is that he doesn’t try to just go and fix things. He listens. A lot. I feel Him there, empathizing with me. And that’s what I need. And after I’m all done going on and on, I listen to what He has to say. About 99% of the time, He just tells me He loves me and that I’m doing great.

I wrote an essay for Blogher this past week. It’s the first time I’ve really spoken about how devastating the end of my first marriage was. When your kids are young, you don’t want to add anything to the pain they themselves are experiencing. I tried never to speak ill of their father to them or around where they could hear. It was hard. There were some really rough years where things were very unfair and it would have felt great to unload on them. But even now I’m so glad I didn’t do that.

If I could add something here to the essay, it would be to caution those going through similar circumstances to consider how your children are feeling when you speak ill of their other parent. Remember, your kids are made of half of them.

My Tribe of Highly Sensitive People

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I had the experience the other day of being in a room full of people who are similar to me in many ways. It’s a new feeling for me to be in a group I truly identify with. This is happening to me more and more as I seek to spend my time doing only the things that are important to me. I keep letting go of activities (and sometimes people) that keep me from thinking and feeling actively though life. I don’t want to be numb anymore. Life’s too short to waste and I only want to spend wisely. I feel a great sense of peace with this lifestyle and that’s also really nice.

This particular group on this particular day was a room full of people who feel deeply and sometimes *more* than others due to an actual brain characteristic in the insula. The name of the characteristic is Highly Sensitive Person and about 15-20% of the human population has this trait, as do about 100 other mammal species. (This is not to be confused with a sensory processing disorder. Here’s the difference.) You can find out much more here and take a self-test here.)

Professionally, this high level of intuition and empathy makes me great at what I do. As an energy healer and H&W Mentor, I learn from the subtleties of what my client’s energy is telling me without them having to say much of anything to me. Many times, I do this without them even having to be in the same room as me and I actually do the bulk of my sessions over Skype. This gift makes it possible for me to help them more than if I had words and facial clues alone to work with.

Setting my “Professional Self” aside, in a non-professional relationship, I used to talk mainly in hints, not to be vague, but to be gentle and gauge the room without hurting others. I would read my husband‘s face without him saying a word and if he was talking, I would read the subtext with where his eyes looked or how the edges of his mouth turned down. The phrase, “But, that’s not what your face looks like,” has been uttered by me to him on numerous occasions when I found incongruity between his words and his facial tones.

I notice how my child is breathing and if the tone of their voice goes up or down or quieter. I feel/hear/sense vibrations from electrical things that give me a headache or feel like they’ve highjacked my heart and want to make it explode. If I hear dramatic music from a movie coming from the other room (where I’ve probably gone because I can’t handle the violence or award-winning drama of said film) and I can’t see what’s going on, I still get a racing heart and will sometimes cry from anxiety. When I’m in a public place that has a lot of people, I feel their emotions to the degree of being distracted from what I’m trying to do if I’m not carefully aware of my own boundaries and what’s mine and what’s theirs. I get exhausted from being in groups too long and plan to be home with nothing to do at least one day a week and mostly won’t answer the phone unless it’s one of my kids or my husband to give myself a chance to recharge.

If I get over-stimulated, I literally can’t think well anymore and can’t make even simple decisions like if I’m hungry or what I’d like to eat and then more often than not, I cry, waving my hands in front of my face to get my husband to stop asking me questions. I will get headaches and occasionally forget how to get home or even forget how to do non-thinking things like swallow and will choke on my own saliva.

Thankfully, I haven’t had any of those experiences in quite some time because of all the prep work I do to make my life the experience I want it to be. Running a Meetup group last year and speaking in front of others at conferences has helped me find my inner “Out” person. Being in public and having everyone looking at me has slowly become easier if I plan it right. I thought all of this went part and parcel in the life of someone who used to live with mental illnesses. How interesting to find out that no, it’s not. It’s just been an added layer I had to navigate. I never would have believed it if you could have told me five years ago how much my life would be different now than it was then.

The past few months I’ve been studying and training to include healing techniques specifically for HSPs in anticipation of how much this could help many of my clients. Which brings us back to the room on that day recently when I felt truly with my tribe.

There was a woman talking about how she felt like she would literally die if she exposed her inner self and became vulnerable in front of someone else and I knew what she was talking about SO DEEPLY.

So many times my husband and I will have the conversation that if I need something, just ask because he’s not a mind-reader. My inability to sometimes just ask straight out will trigger his own co-dependency radar. And once he’s on alert, it’s really all downhill from there. One of us feels bad and frustrated (him) because the other one of us is crying and unable to vocalize how they’re feeling (me).

I see this in a whole new light now. I *do* literally feel like I’m going to die if I ask for something I really, really need or that is close to my heart. My heart rate increases. I feel blood rushing to my head. My palms get sweaty. My face gets red. I want to run for my life. You could easily replace my husband with a lion tracking me as their prey and the result would be the same. The shift is in identifying that vulnerability and that I have a need to protect my inner core at all costs.

This is all information and information is good. Information helps us learn and grow through things. It helps us make small course corrections and navigate to the place we truly want to be. Just like five years ago I wouldn’t have believed my life now, I bet five years from now things will be even better, which is hard to believe given that I’m so happy.

——- <3 Looking for a mentor for your own life process? I can help. Find out more here.
You can buy my book on Amazon or Lulu.

Let’s Grow Through This Together

Processed with VSCOcam with c1 presetSometimes I feel like I learn new things right before I really need them. You know what I mean? Like, had this challenging thing that’s currently happening, happened even six months ago, I wouldn’t have been ready.

But God, or whatever you consider your Divine to be, creates this space for us to gather our knowledge and our wits about us right before the Big Test comes. If we’re paying attention. If we’re *at all* trying. And I’d wager that most of us *are* trying because we’ve been around the block a time or two and know that not paying attention doesn’t get us the desired result we’re after. Trying to be awake. Trying to be aware. Trying to pay attention. Trying to be a little bit better every day. Trying to serve and be present for those we love. Trying to make the world a slightly better place.

I’m watching my son grapple with being twenty and doing all the thought processes you go through at that age, wondering what to do with your life. Wondering what kind of person you are and who you want to be. Wondering how to participate in life in a way that’s meaningful. Trying to be Present. ALL the big questions.

And as we’ve talked and worked together this past month one theme keeps coming through: You do get to create the life you want to live. There are a vast number of ways to be a Person in Life.

Of course you look first to those closest to you to see who and how they are, like your siblings and parents. Of course you do, because they are your examples and who you have had the closest contact with in your life so far. And then maybe you look at the next familial circle, including aunts and uncles. And then hopefully you keep looking further out and find people in your friend circles and even further, historical figures, to find other examples of How To Be. You don’t *have* to be the same as anyone you know. It’s a choice to follow in someone’s footsteps.

Short of being a person that harms others, there isn’t a “wrong” way to be a Person.

We get so caught up in what it means to be successful and what constitutes a real job or a life worth living. Want to know what a Real Job is? I’ll tell you. A Real Job is anything that supports the life you want to live.

If it brings you immense happiness to live in an expensive loft and have three cars and arrange your days to be super busy without any breaks and travel a lot and be a VP or a CEO then do that. That’s one way to be a Person. And if it brings you immense happiness to live a quiet life with minimal needs and much more down time and many less people counting on you for paperwork or code or whatever, then be that. Just Be That Person.

There are no Real jobs and Not-Real jobs. There’s only what you want to create your life to be, and what you then do to support the lifestyle you’ve chosen. And also? It’s ok to change your mind and choose another path at any point. It doesn’t make everything you’ve done up until that moment a mistake. We gather knowledge and experience no matter what path we go down. You don’t have to know everything before you start. A good chunk of life is Winging It.

Take the lesson, leave the baggage, and move forward. Grow to the next thing. That, my friends, if Life.

There’s no one “Right” way to be a Person. The world is vast and the people are numerous and it takes all kinds to keep the world turning. Let go of the limiting beliefs you have about yourself and who you are *supposed* to be. Look inside, see who you are, and then be the best one of those you can possibly be.

————

Looking for a mentor for your own life process? I can help. Find out more here.

Reclaiming The Divine

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Like many people, I was raised in a religious home. And like many people, I then grew up, made choices for myself, and decided I didn’t want to be a part of that religion any longer.

This story is not unique by any means. A byproduct of growing up in a highly religious environment is that it can feel too confining as you’re growing older and testing your limits. You can’t wait to get away from it, shedding it like a too-small winter coat.

I’ve spent the last 20-ish years floating somewhere in between agnostic and Crunchy-Universal-Love-Hippie on the spirituality scale. I’ve said a lot of things about God or God(s) or No-God(s) that I don’t even know where they came from. That’s because they weren’t founded in anything but my imagination and whatever I could suss out that felt kinda ok. I was making-do.

I’ve spent the last few months evaluating and reevaluating what I think, feel and believe to be true. I’ve also spent quite a bit of time dissecting how the Mind/Body connection of health flows into this because there is a spirituality component of health. The three pillars of fantastic combined health are Energy (both physical and polarity), Nutrition, and Mind/Body Connection (including tools). Those tools include supplements, self-care, and essential oils and other ways that bring the Mind/Body connection closer. And Energy includes your connection to the Divine, whatever you deem that to be and however it’s the most healing for you.

If you’ve seen me this past year or so and thought (or said to me, as many of you have), “Man, Leah! You glow! You really look great!” then you’ve seen the change good health can bring. And like I mentioned above, having spirituality in my life and being able to feel is a big part of good health.

When we talk about reiki and energy clearings/healings and cranial sacral work, it’s really all the same thing. You’re pulling Universal Love & Light from your Source, which then flows through you to help others and yourself. Understanding this was the door that opened me back up to looking at my own spirituality.

Along this journey I’ve identified five main points of my own story that I feel might be helpful to others. These are the looming questions and long unidentified non-positive feelings I carried around with me for years, not understanding what they were or how they fit. Perhaps you’ll see yourself in some of these and be inspired to look into your own Self to see where spirituality fits in with you. Most of what I have to say is based around the LDS church because that’s what I was raised in, but I’m willing to bet that however you were raised, you might find similar things. If you’ve felt something missing, it might be your connection to the Divine.

5. I Was Hurt and Confused
Organized religions are full of people. Those people make mistakes. Many of the people in an organized church are fine people who are really trying to do their best each and every day. Others are kind of along for the ride, not coming from a place of love, perhaps not sure why they are members of a church to begin with. Maybe they attend because that’s just what they’ve been doing for a long time. Those people can do a lot of harm in their ignorance. I came into contact with many of those.

From a very young age, depending on my teachers at church, I spent a lot of time in the hall. What that really meant was I was asking too many questions or being silly and distracting my neighbors from listening to the teacher, so I was sent out of the class.

I remember on more than one occasion asking what must have been yet another question and having the teacher roll their eyes at me. But here’s the thing. I was being sincere. I really didn’t understand what they were teaching and I wanted answers. The problem being that in a class setting where you have 12 or so little wiggly kids trying to sit in their chairs through a 45 minute lesson, you really just want to get the lesson done, not keep answering the Whys.

My teachers were probably doing the best they could in the situation and I’ve come to understand that they probably didn’t know the answers to tell me, which must have made them uncomfortable. But when they brushed me off and moved on, leaving me with a gaping misunderstanding, I got bored or sad or irritated and started talking to or teasing those next to me, which ended with me out in the hallway until class ended.

I left Primary and went to Young Women’s for ages 12-17 but at that point, I’d spent so much time not getting my questions answered, I figured no one really knew or I didn’t belong there. I spent those ages really struggling to stay active in the church with weeks where my parents insisted I go and me sneaking out and walking home as soon as their backs were turned. Needless to say, church was not a spiritually uplifting or soul-filling experience for me.

I would occasionally have a good teacher and those few stick out in my mind. I didn’t ever really feel a part of the class but I could see them sincerely trying and that meant a lot.

4. I Misunderstood Gospel Principles
Piggybacking onto number 5 above, because I didn’t actually learn things at church I misunderstood a lot of basic gospel principles. This is kind of fascinating to me because you have to understand that I wasn’t only getting teachings for three hours on Sundays, I was getting taught daily at home.

My family had scripture study nightly at 5:30pm every, single, solitary day where we would read a chapter from the scriptures, memorize a monthly scripture passage, sing, and pray together. We also met on Monday night for Family Home Evening where more doctrine was discussed. Plus as a teen I met mid-week for an additional youth meeting at church.

As a family we probably read through the Book of Mormon together 8-10 times and the Bible 4-5 times during my youth. That’s a lot of scripture reading and not understanding going on. I remember spending the time while we were reading daydreaming or having conversations in my head, basically doing my time until I got to leave the room.

There were a lot of small things like why we fast or keep the sabbath day holy or why we pay tithing, but my biggest misunderstanding was the Atonement (basic definition here, and Mormon explanation).

I recall having a conversation not too many years ago with someone about how I didn’t want to be a part of why Christ suffered on the cross, if He was indeed real, so I was choosing not to participate. That statement shows just how much I didn’t understand. There is no choosing. If you believe Christ is real and that He died on the cross, it was for you.

Due to the many misunderstandings I’ve had over the years and my lack of knowledge, I made up my own version of what I thought Mormons believed. Many of these were in fact false.

To overcome this, I started inviting the missionaries over to our home. You’ve probably seen them around town where you live. (They are adorable.) I’m taking the discussions, as they’re called. Our current missionaries, Elders Felix and Jennings, are two of the most passionate young men when it comes to the gospel as I’ve ever seen. I’m talking, exuberant fist pumps in the air about teaching lesson 2, The Plan of Salvation. “This is one of my favorites!” exclaims Elder Jennings. And he means it. Every time.

It’s hard not to be enthused about something when the young men in the room are so clearly full of joy about teaching it. I’m learning a lot about how many misconceptions I’ve held onto over the years and for the first time in my life, I’m enjoying reading the scriptures.

It sometimes works out that the Elders are here for dinner. The time we had roast, mashed potatoes and sliced carrots, there were no left-overs. The time I made spaghetti squash with bolognese sauce, Elder Felix mentioned he’d never seen spaghetti sauce with kidney beans or olives in it or ever eaten what-was-the-name-of-that-squash-again. Joe and I had those leftovers the next day. Those poor guys. They have to eat whatever you put in front of them. If you want to see their eyes light up, say, “Cheesecake.” (I hope my nieces and nephews that have been out on missions have had a little cheesecake now and then.)

3. I Saw a Church Full of Hypocrites
Organized religions are full of people. Those people make mistakes. (I feel like I’ve said that somewhere before…) But in no way more than in this way was I more confused and understood less.

I looked around at the people that attended church and saw sinners. Men who drank alcohol or did drugs and then went to church and blessed and passed the sacrament. Women who talked about other women in some of the most ugly ways imaginable but then went to church and pretended they were friends. People cheating on their spouses. Liars. People who were into porn. People cheating on their tithing and taxes and making justifications for paying less. So much sin but then so much pretending to be perfect on Sunday. These were the people I was supposed to aspire to be like? These were the people I was supposed to be friends with and who were supposedly representing God’s church?

And here’s where my new understanding finally caught up to my reality. Every organized church is filled with people who are making mistakes and doing wrong. Also true is that they are trying their best, because if there is one thing I do know now, it’s that every person on the face of the planet is doing the best they can, every day of their lives. When they can do better, they do do better. (I said do do.) (Sorry.) (<--See? Repentance in action.) And now that I understand the Atonement better, I see how it fits in with all of these sinners, of which I am one. Could there have ever been a more judgmental person than I was? Highly unlikely. Could that have been more hypocritical of me to be judging each of them and not looking at myself? Nope. (Am I done asking and answering my own questions in this annoying way? Yes.) 2. I Didn’t Feel I Fit In
So. Not fitting in is a theme of my life. Not as a child in church or with my family in general and not as an adult with people my own age. Not with my first husband. Not in elementary, middle, high school or college class settings. Not with Americans sometimes. Not even with the human race occasionally because of our brutality and chilling indifference with each other all around the world but especially in our own backyards.

Having mental and physical illnesses had a way of always keeping me separate from others, if not in reality then at least that’s how I perceived it. But beyond that, I’ve just always felt, well, different. Like I was watching life from inside my head. There was a buffer layer, like a blanket, all around me like insulation. From inside that place I watched people being happy and being sad and having lives like it was a play happening and I wasn’t really a part of it.

When considering becoming more spiritual and attending a church with real other human people, this crossed my mind. If I’m going to go to a church, whatever church I decide to go to, I’ll have to be sitting near other people for meetings and interacting with them afterwards. All that shaking hands and nodding and smiling and such. Could I do it? Could I do it and be genuine or would I be hating every second and watching the clock, waiting to leave? What if someone asks me what I do for a living? The horror.

I have tattoos. I can be a little crass and loud. My sense of humor can include body-humor (see above: do do) much to the chagrin of more refined people (like my husband). I don’t like being put on the spot, read: called on to say a prayer or read a scripture or answer a theoretical spiritual question posed by a teacher when I’m not ready for it. Don’t ask me to be smart or witty on the spot. Don’t ask me to wear a funny hat.

And what about my political views? I support gay marriage and there’s nothing you run into faster like a brick wall than churches that don’t. I also support social programs and clean, legal abortions for women. Could there even be a church out there that would accept me?

The answer is, yes. Pretty much every church I would want to attend would accept me if I’m going to church to connect to the Divine and to people who are just like me in that they are trying their best every day to be good people and do what they’re supposed to do. Getting caught up in the details of what every person who attends that church believes in can be a distraction. And part of keeping my focus on coming to understand the Divine better is not being distracted. If I believe that God knows me, loves me, wants the best for me, and has a plan for me, anything that keeps me from that plan is a distraction, including getting caught up in those details. My job is to check in with the Divine, ask what I’m supposed to be doing, and then go do that thing.

Part of looking around this life with new, spiritual eyes is trying to understand that I just don’t know everything. I’m limited by the confines of my physical-ness and my small understanding of What Is. And I’m ok with that because this life is a journey and I’m finally enjoying it.

1. I Couldn’t Feel
This is perhaps the single most damaging thing I experienced. If you can’t feel, you can’t really be in touch with the Divine. You can only get hints and shadows of what real “Feeling” feels like.

Members of the LDS church believe the Book of Mormon to be holy scripture and another testament of Jesus Christ along with the Bible. There is a promise contained in the BOM (Moroni 10:4) that if you read it and then ask of God if it’s true, God will tell you and confirm it is true and you’ll know it by the confirmation of the Holy Spirit. I tried this experiment probably four times growing up and never felt anything. I also didn’t feel anything when I was baptized at age 8, which for everyone I talked to was a very spiritual experience for them. Likewise, you are told to pray and ask when big decisions arise in your life and you’ll be told which way to turn and how to choose. But, for me? Nope. Nothing.

From a young age I surmised that one (or both) of two things must be true. 1. Everyone around me from the people in my family to everyone in the town where I grew up, nay, the entire state of Utah must be crazy or lying and/or, 2. God did exist but I was broken and/or beneath God’s notice.

Because I’d never felt any confirmation or peaceful feeling in my chest, I had no idea what they were talking about. It wasn’t until this past year that my body was in a state where I could feel anything. But when it happened, it was amazing. (I’ll share that story another time because this is already so long.)

We’re all seeking connection in our lives. We tell our stories and interact with each other moment to moment and connect. The energy we have around us and running through us is what connects us to each other. Sometimes we meet someone new and feel a strong pull, like something cosmic is happening. Sometimes we come into contact with someone and instinctively know that nope, that person is not someone we want in our circle. Becoming familiar with how your energy (and the energy of others around you) works for you or against you is important.

And beyond that, finding your connection to the Divine will be life-changing. Tap into whatever you believe in. Figure out why you believe in it separate from any old thinking patterns from your childhood or those around you. Chart a new, clean course with your Higher Power and it will bring the peace, joy, inspiration and connection you’ve been lacking.

Random Piecings + My Basic Green Smoothie Recipe

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Here’s some clouds from Southern Utah. You’re welcome. That place is incredibly beautiful. I mean:

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I joke with Joe that we should go live there and by “joke” I mean “semi-serious” and by “semi-serious” I mean how about in two years or so. Poor Joe. JoeSunday I think part of my joke-not-joking is that we had such an incredible time doing the retreat there a few weeks ago. The entire event was just amazing. I really felt so, oh, I don’t know the right words, it was so big what I felt. But some good words are Useful and On Task and Meaningful and Just Right. And when you feel all the parts of something come together that you’ve been planning and you see how so many people feel great about it and get what they need from it, well….it’s just kind of amazing. I added this picture of Joe because why not.

You’ll have to excuse this stream of consciousnesses and pick through for the good parts due to the fact that I’ve got uncharacteristic pressure and pain in my ear regions and it makes for less than sharp conversation at times.

In my quest for Health & Wellness I make course corrections and try on new things. These New Things might be drastic or small. The course corrections might be just a tad one way or the other or a major right turn. But through it all I seem to have one question in my heart and that is this: Am I where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to be doing and with whom I’m supposed to be doing it with? (I’m ever so sorry I ended that with a preposition but it couldn’t be helped.)

Processed with VSCOcam with m5 presetOne thing I feel I should be doing are the H&W Retreats and the whoms are my sister and our daughters. It’s beautiful when we’re all together and educating and helping people feel more and more well. It’s truly like magic and if I could do it every day the rest of my life I would.

In order to really be “in tune” to someone’s frequency and be in a place to help them the most, I don’t want to muck up my brain and body with chemicals because it can short-circuit our connection. To that end I’ve cut out alcohol and almost all caffeine. I’m down to one cup of decaf a day and I’ll tell you what, the nightly beers were much easier to give up than my morning coffee. I’m feeling a much larger reward than anything negative with this change, though, because I’m not experiencing my afternoon “dip” that I’ve had for so, so long and I’m sleeping better. So, there’s that.

Being more “in tune” means I can pick up on subtler messages that someone’s body/energy is giving off when we talk. There’s so much happening in between the lines and woven throughout the conversation happening with words. I consider it a privilege to be able to tune into those things and it makes it so much easier when I’m not riding a high from caffeine, when I’ve had a good night’s sleep and when I can fully feel my own stuff and not mistake it for someone else’s stuff.

The pressure in my ears has come along with a rash on my neck that is Candida trying to drive me crazy dying off. Because I’m no longer drinking sugar every night (beer and wine) and that was my last main source of sugar, my host body is no longer as conducive to Candida and the yeast is mad. Really, really mad. The rash is itchy and red and looks terrible but I just keep rubbing coconut oil on my feet and encouraging it to get out, get out and keep on going. I upped my water and increased support of my liver. I upped my supplements and fermented foods. I send loving thoughts to my ears and my neck for doing such a great job with this process and then I drink another glass of herbal tea because that’s what I’ve got right now and it’s not that bad.

I wasn’t expecting Candida to burst out of my neck or stack up in my ears and it’s a constant reminder these days to keep an eye on what I’m eating, keep the sugar-foods low, add in more green smoothies and other things Candida doesn’t like.

Here’s my basic Green Smoothie recipe. It makes one really large glass of smoothie plus just enough extra that you’re irritated and don’t know what to do with it so you just stick it in the fridge and forget about the 1″ of old green smoothie and then it goes bad so you dump it and do it all over again. Just kidding. I totally don’t do that. I ask Joe to drink it and sometimes he even does.

1 Kale leaf, stripped off rib
1/2 avocado
1/2 cup probiotic yogurt
1/4 cup coconut milk
2 TBL soaked or sprouted sunflower seeds
Handful of frozen blueberries
Half a frozen banana
2 tsp Spirulina
Enough filtered water to make the right consistency

The banana and blueberries contain all the sugar I can handle right now but if you need some more sweetener, go ahead and add a little raw honey, raw maple syrup or un-sulfered molasses. (There’s a recipe kind of like this in my book.) Sometimes I add sprouted lentils.

I don’t have a great ending for this post (EAR PRESSURE) but I’ll leave you with a thought I keep having. What if we were all doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing, where we were supposed to be doing it, and with the people we were supposed to be doing it with? And what if we did that all the time? I think it would be incredible.

One more of the clouds in Southern Utah because I can’t even.

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Storyteller: Kim Zoot Homes aka Miss Zoot

Kim Zoot Holmes by Gregg Gelmis
1. I started “themed” blogs that all died shortly after their inception between the years 2000 and 2003. One was dedicated to the show Temptation Island…I have no idea why I didn’t stick with that one. In 2003 I stumbled upon a few writers who were blogging about their struggles having children and I decided in January 2004 to just try a personal blog, one with no theme, but where I could also chronicle my own struggles to conceive. I gave my blog a name using my own online alias (Zoot) on the Typepad platform. Once I gave up trying to stick to a “theme” and just wrote a personal blog with personal stories, I found it was VERY easy to stick with blogging. Writing became cathartic, even if I was just writing about Harry Potter in between entries about having miscarriages. In April of 2004, after only 4 months at Typepad, I picked up and moved to my own domain: misszoot.com, and I’ve been there ever since.

2. I learned by being a blog reader first that the internet removed Geography as a hurdle to building communities. I spent my childhood often feeling like the odd-man-out but the internet gave me ways to find kindred spirits, even if they were living in another state. When I first blogged about being an adult who loved Harry Potter, several people stepped up to say, “Me too!” and it felt GREAT. And then, on the serious side, when I was struggling to have kids it felt amazing to find people who understood the things I had trouble explaining to my family. I’ve also written a lot about my anxieties and lately I’ve been writing a lot about my journey becoming a runner and a triathlete and meeting people on the same road to fitness. Telling my stories – no matter what they are – have helped me build an internet family that I still depend on today.

3. I have 3 kids (19, 8, 6) and work from home part-time as a web developer, but I have also become a runner in the last 3-4 years. I am not an athlete by birth and have never been good at anything, but I found something therapeutic about running long distances and training for long races so I run a lot during my off time. During the winter (my peak training season) I run an average of 50 miles a week. I usually try to do a couple of marathons, a couple of 50K trail races, and at least one 50-miler or one 12-hour run every year. I often barely slide in under the time limits for the races, but I’m doing it with a smile on my face!

4. If I had a million dollars...I’d donate to some of my favorite charities (The Trevor Project and our local group – The GLBT Advocacy & Youth Services, Inc.) but THEN I’d finish my goal to run at least a marathon in every state. I don’t like traveling in theory, my anxieties make me very much a home body, but for races I seem to be able to look past my travel-induced anxieties. I’d love to pack the family up in an RV and drive across the country running races wherever I could!

5. The secret I’ve discovered to get over my social anxieties is to constantly ask questions to those around me. It makes me look like a great conversationalist, but it also draws attention AWAY from me, making me inherently more relaxed. And while I do this, I try to use the person’s name as much as possible so that I’ll remember it later. Nothing sends me into a downward spiral of an anxiety attack quicker than forgetting someone’s name! So, ask a lot of questions, use their name. And if you DO forget someone’s name, ask them their name and after they tell you say, “Oh, that’s right. I always want to say your name is ‘ALICE’ because you look so much like my cousin of that name.

6. My social anxieties are my biggest hurdle in life. However, the best thing I’ve discovered to help me get past them is finding out how many other people feel the same way. I actually started a book club with some friends because we all felt too socially awkward to ever go to them before. We call ourselves the Socially Awkward Book Club. That alleviates the pressure of being polished and smooth right away!

Find Kim on Twitter @misszoot and read her stories on her blog, Miss Zoot. Thanks, Kim! Find all the Storytellers here.

Photo of Kim by Gregg Gelmis.

Good Mornings

Before the cars start zipping by at such a pace and before the sound of people walking the street outside my window and chatting hurriedly about what I’m sure are important things fills my ears, there is the sound of birds.

My eyes open and through the glass door I see darkness, but not real darkness, because the light is just beginning to touch the edges of the deep purple, slumbering, predawn sky. I see patches of it through the trees. Little scattered spots of light that begin to form deep blue then gray then light blue if I wait long enough, while the leaves of the trees turn from near-black-brown to greens.

The birds, the brightening sky, along with an occasional car, say good morning to me. They greet me and wake me quietly and gently.

Twitter, tweet, twitter, song trill, whoosh (a car).
Good morning, have you seen this day yet, it’s going to be briiiiiiiiillllliiiiant, whoosh (a car).

I haven’t been much of a morning person for the majority of my life but I find in my forties, it’s one of my favorite parts of the day and I sometimes fall asleep not only looking forward to my coffee but to the sounds and lights of my wake-up invitation. Joe will almost always already be awake somewhere in the house and many times he knows just when to poke his head in the door and quietly check to see if my eyes are open yet. That’s really the best part because he will then come over and place a series of light, feathery kisses on my face to help me wake up.

With a beautiful beginning like that, it’s no wonder I have so much joy in my heart that I catch my self in rear-view mirrors and find myself smiling. I’m getting the hang of this joy thing.

Leah Peterson Smile

Wishing you all peace, joy and a lovely day. <3

Retreat Plannin’

Highway 89 Wolfgang Staudt

We have our first retreat coming up in just under two weeks! I can’t believe it. I’m so excited. (This is a private retreat being held in Southern Utah, so you won’t find it listed here.)

Southern Utah is actually where I grew up so it’s going to feel like going home for me. If you haven’t been there, it’s the gateway to about a frillion State Parks along Highway 89 (photo above by Wolfgang Staudt, Creative Commons) like Zion, Coral Pink Sand Dunes, Lake Powell and Bryce Canyon. Basically, it’s just kind of gorgeous all over the place and you can’t walk five steps without bumping into something spectacular.

The Self-Care focus for this particular retreat is Connecting with the Divine. We all have our own unique ways of doing that and I’d love to hear yours. Leave a comment if you’re so inspired. <3