Coming Home to Self

I'm coming home to self.

I’ve been away. Disconnected. Tangled in thought webs. Taking on the emotional burdens of others. Words tinted with bitterness. Feeling apathetic.  

I operated this way for awhile, placing smiles over the wounds like band-aids and throwing myself into busyness: classes to teach, packing for the retreat, finishing up my VISTA term at work.

Then, I get a bit tipsy. At first, I’m all giggles and fun. Suddenly, I'm swept up in a thunderstorm of tears. I’m sobbing to Ray LaMontagne  on a late Friday night and realize that I’ve not been myself. I’m ungrounded and hurting and need to come home to self.

How do I come home to self?

I return to the embrace of healers and friends, the ones who compassionately listen as I rant, curse and reveal. They let me speak a truth that I’m having trouble owning. Once spoken, acknowledged and held in understanding, I can learn and grow on. I’m blessed to have these listeners. Thank you, thank you.

This homecoming calls for celebrations. 

Tuesday, Babe, wear those high heels and relish the click-clack patter they make on pavement and marble stairs. 

Flash out in hot pink, the color of confidence and self-esteem. 

Find the old Motown playlist and turn it up high on the commute to work. 

Dance wildly to sweat out the day. 

Grant others the gift of presence, fully listen and fully be.

Come home to favorite films, partied out playlists, sun salutations, revisited pieces of poetry, and back to the blank page. Revel in the breath, greeting and grounding.

I reconnect to self here in this coffee shop nestled in the mountains of North Carolina. 

Though traveling away from my Kentucky home, I feel grounded. I am rooted to self. I am brought back to center through journaling, sipping a vanilla latte and enjoying this precious time to write truthfully from the heart. I'm happy to be back. 

Thank you for listening. For self-discovery fun I offer you this: a vein of gold writing exercise. Make a list of 3-5 of your top favorite films, musicians, books and passions. Jot down whatever or whoever pops in your head, there’s no need to impress, only to explore and see what is sparkling up your heart and creative energies. There may be a thread connecting the categories together in rather curious ways. Or this may be a go-to list when you’re having a rather off day and are in need of a homecoming celebration of your own.

P.S.- Learned the vein of gold writing exercise from the very talented Sarah Combs. She's a brilliant and beautiful Kentucky author whose recently published Breakfast Served Anytime  is a magical read and a vital part of this summertime homecoming. 

A Blog on Blogging

Hello! Hello! So happy a dear friend and fellow blogger, Misty Pittman invited me to be part of a #mywritingprocess Blog Tour! The prompts encouraged us bloggers to think about the writing process and why we write what we do. Well, here’s a little piece about the tango between journaling and blogging. Enjoy and treat yourself to the exquisite writings and awe-inspiring photos featured on Misty’s beautiful blog www.lifecreatedblissfully.com.  

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Recently I discovered a diary I kept when I was nine. A thoughtful Winnie the Pooh occupies the front cover.  The bear is a childhood favorite who serves as the journal’s guardian. The few carefully preserved entries detail my emotional reaction to being called mean at summer camp, (because I stole my sister’s snack), express utter excitement over shopping at a dollhouse store (the blooming days of a small fashionista), and I lament a torn down tree swing (“this broke my heart very badly”).

All in all, I am the same. The entries I wrote as a nine-year-old mirror the ones I passionately write today. In beloved PAPAYA! Art journals,  I continue to explore and question my sensitivity, and my charged emotions to people and events. I journal to look for meaning, to find the lessons, and pinpoint my patterns. I journal about my passions, what makes me feel alive and the small, ordinary moments that leave me breathless.

This journaling is my everyday therapy. It’s messy, repetitive, a Faulkner stream of conscious with no paragraphs and commas in revolt. A tug of war between a complainer and a gal striving to see the positive.

Blogging tidies up the words urgently spilled across a journal’s blank page. Blogging captures a jewel glistening in a chaos of ink. Blogging shines off a thought, polishes an emotion, and presents it to the online world to see in the hopes other readers can see their own reflections in that sparkle and shine.

Journaling is intensely personal. The blank page provides space and acceptance for the initial, knee-jerk reaction. After the tears have been shed and the curse words spit out, I have the clarity to pause, listen and write with intention. In the pause, I glimpse the life lesson, I gently observe myself and lovingly embrace my imperfect, but oh so very trying self. Pieces of poetry, or kind words spoken by loved ones return to me.

Journaling guides me back to center, and from that place of connection and understanding, I blog. I write about life’s sparkles and struggles in the hope that others can find some comfort, inspiration, or a parcel of truth that resonates with them and gently guides them back to self.

My Winnie the Pooh journal is safely tucked away. As I write this, I think of my nine-year-old self and I thank her for writing, for gifting my older self with forgotten treasures of my childhood and providing insights to self. And I thank you for taking a moment to read about this quirky writing process and for being my listener. Whether or not you write, may you be a good listener to your True Self, and gift yourself with the time to explore, express, create and celebrate who you are because you’re rather perfect and your story is worth being told.

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Now, happily passing the writing baton to Julie Ransdell. I’ve fallen in love with her blog  . Here’s a sweet intro, you’ll fall for her, too!

Julie Ransdell :

I am a mama, wife, yoga instructor, prayer warrior, and lover of all things fine food, fine wine, and fine music to my ears. I cherish living a simple life and strive daily to bloom right where I am planted.

http://bloommamabloom.blogspot.com.

Today I Rest

Today I rest.

I let myself be part of that brilliant sky and give myself to sunshine.

I simply be.  

I grant myself full permission to revel in this moment, to be freed from internal pressure to do and prove and go.

I relax into my bones. I release tension from my muscles. I soften my cheeks.

I sink deeper into my belly and feel the heaviness of my legs, growing long and earthbound.

I linger, wonder and then come back home to the breath.

I still see the vague outline of the to-do list. 

Yes, there are yoga classes to plan, people to email, friends to text, a story in need of editing, a trip to prepare for, a transition to weather.

I relax into the knowing that I'll get the to-dos done with grace and all in good timing.

I trust myself.

This trusting leads me back to this crystal blue sky day and a sweet spaciousness expanding with each remembered conscious breath.

Today I rest.

I simply be. 

This being is enough for me. 

A Lesson in Sparkle: Part I

Sparkle is my mantra. It’s my go-to word when I feel insecure and need an extra self-confidence kick. Sparkle is a super fun, fashionable companion, but She’s feisty and challenging at times. It’s easy for me to sparkle and shine when I’m having a fabulous hair day, when I feel like I taught a smooth yoga class, and 20 plus people like my current facebook status.

The question is can I personally grant myself the permission to sparkle when I’ve experienced an “off moment?”

I’ve become aware that when I “mess up” (forgot about a work commitment), or when I’ve potentially disappointed someone (overcommitted and had to cancel on a friend), I punish myself with guilt and harsh criticism. After such “off moments,” I don’t feel worthy of feeling good and receiving goodness. I block my shine.

I grant others the power to affirm my worthiness. I look to the current well-being of my relationships and the successes of my job as external indicators to determine if I truly deserve to feel the radiant goodness that exists within me. 

Perfectionism is an underlying issue here. I set idealistic standards for how I communicate, act and work with others. As a human who is still on the post-grad learning curve, I consistently fall short, and instead of embracing myself, I reprimand.

“You don’t know what you don’t know.”

This is a newly adopted saying that has freed me from the claws of the inner critic. I can’t hold myself responsible for things I simply didn’t know about (like cleaning lint out of the dryer. I didn’t know that shit could cause a fire!).  

Sparkle illuminates these old patterns and pushes me to burn brightly through them. Yes, I made a mistake, but plunging into negative self-chatter doesn’t empower me to confront the situation with confidence and grace. And shutting myself off from my inner light doesn’t help me grow. In the glitz and glow of sparkle, I can lovingly claim my mistakes, take responsibility for things I need to own and then brilliantly move on, or Sparkle On.

As the Sufi poet Hafiz says, “I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.”

I love sparkling up my fun-spirited nature when people are singing my praises, I feel summer chic in a new dress, and I’m productively awesome at work. The real challenge is to remain connected to that sparkle, that light and all embracing awareness when I disappoint, make an honest mistake, and am wading through insecurity. I want to navigate my reactions to difficult experiences with a strengthened connection to my true self, the one that sparkles regardless of successes and mistakes.

Readers, if you’re having a glorious day, own it, and Sparkle On. If you’re having a not so awesome one, own it, and Sparkle On, too. And if all this sparkling seems rather silly to you, that’s fine, just don’t let the perceived ups and downs of your day determine your worthiness. You deserve to feel good because You Are You. 

A Poem for Monday

Poetry is the language of the soul and my spirit is hungry for exquisite words that speak to my heart. So, I begin the week with a poem.

A dear friend recently introduced me to the wondrous, romantic poems of e.e cummings. His words soothe, enchant and ring true. I’m rather in love.

Monday, I greet you with this poem, reminding me to let go and embrace life’s flow. I let go of expectations. I let go of negative self-talk. I come home to the breath. I come home to this poem. I come home again to love. 

let it go – e.e. cummings

let it go -- the


smashed word broken


open vow or


the oath cracked length


wise -- let it go it


was sworn to


go



let them go -- the


truthful liars and


the false fair friends


and the boths and


neithers -- you must let them go they

were born


to go


let all go -- the


big small middling

tall bigger really


the biggest and all


things -- let all go


dear


so comes love.