Okay...Fine...Its not really all okay.

Recently I made the choice to back away from a FB group that has been a very large part of my life for years now. Their was a significant falling out that I never would have seen happening. It was a space and a community of mothers I seriously thought I would grow old with. But my heart was deeply hurt. The lesson that came out of all of this for me was I needed to begin to invest in people that I can hug, can wipe a tear or laugh with till we pee. I need them to see my flesh so that they can see my full being. It is far too easy to have communication errors and hurt feelings while online. But I miss them more than words can say. I want to know what's going on in there life and share my journey with them. I don’t feel as strong without them cheering me on. I am very aware of how deeply I am needing to find community. I have moved so much in the last ten years. I miss family and it’s been hard to maintain friendships. I am thankful for a handful of friends that no matter the distance, our connection never falters.

I had created a really good balance of self care within my life. But my sickness lately has disturbed all of that. Spending days in bed and unable to go to yoga. My diet has had to be altered to slow down weight lost and comfort my hurting tummy. It’s been really scary being sick and not knowing why. To feel pain in my body I don’t understand. I have also taken some risks with my heart. Its turmoil can be consuming, as can my constant analysis.

I am in such a tender spot. I have had to be pretty strong facing a lot of my health stuff alone. Not having anyone to care for our kids means spending hours in the ER by myself, talking to doctors, tests, procedures and diagnosis that potentially could greatly affect my life delivered without a hand to hold. None of this really bothered me till Wednesday when I got my third IV in two weeks, had multiple nurses working on finding a vein, waiting an hour to go back for my procedures while everyone else around me had family or friends by their side. Being rolled into an OR is one of the scariest feeling ever for me, trusting people I just met with my life.

Without any warning, it all came crashing down last night. The pain, loneliness, heart full of turmoil, disconnection to self and all that being strong. My spirit needs extra care.

I am beyond thankful for Jake who has been by my side the last couple weeks. He has had to take way more of his share of parenting. And last night he saw all those emotions colliding into big tears before I did. This weekend I am reaching out to some very special New Mexicans. I am going to a meditation retreat in Taos. Needing to connect to my inner wisdom and honor my vulnerability.

Lets Be Pirates Voyaging the Land of the Heart

I have been pondering the word "capacity" the last few weeks. Examining my own boundaries and untapped expansion. I know fully that my heart has no limitation. Its ability to love and be loved is as vast as the Universe. My fear of exposing my heart to the possible discomfort and hurt tends to hold me back. But this morning the house was quite and all my beloveds asleep. My heart open and vulnerable. Their is a connection I feel to All That Is and a pureness to my love. Right now, here in this moment, my capacity is greater then I can imagine. Their is no fear or longing. Only acceptance with great appreciation. 

As my kids awaken and the request for food come in all directions, I feel my heart clench. I notice its desire to protect from the anticipation of doing without connection. I wonder how much of my life can be lived from a place of true authentic Light. To be, to do, to love and to receive with my heart open. That self full of my own worthy light is fighting to emerge from hiding. The pain in my body telling me to be here, The light rising over the mountain telling me to be here. As I start the motions of the day, my little boy pulls me close saying, "I just want to love you." He is asking me to be fully present with him while he transitions to the day. I am here my love. I am fully here with you in this moment. Lets be pirates voyaging the land of the heart. Teach me what you know better than any adult can. Lets be here.

A Deep Deep Hole to the Center of Mother Earth

These last few months have been full of transition. Jake has been working endless amount of time on his master's thesis and I have had to hold the fort together in the meanwhile. In January I told myself this may be the hardest six months of your life but you will survive. I decided to push my wants and needs as deep down as I could. To be strong for Jake so he can focus on his paper. I fully expected I would dive into a depression from loneliness and the pressure of taking the share of parenting three young kids. 

That type of thinking seems so foreign to me now. Because something happened I did not expect. I did not dive into a depression or fall apart at my seams. I stood strong, not from pushing away my needs but by embracing them. I found my voice and became my own companion. 

The school year was good one. Avi made massive progresses in her reading and had an amazing teacher that gave her the extra attention she needed. But more than anything she is happy and showing so much less anxiety at her current school. Nika as always was her happy self. Sharing her light with the world. She is one smart kido. Leo had some big transitions too. He ended all of his therapies at home with New Vistas Early Education and was transferred to the school district with an IEP. He was able to go to preschool for five weeks before the end of the year and received services. He is getting physical therapy, occupational therapy and speech. Their is no doubt that he can be challenging but he is making great strides. He is incredibly sweet and I feel so supported in my journey of parenting him.

I had two amazing weekend in Taos learning mindfulness and meditation. Walls shattered and transformed. I learned to look at myself with compassion and love. My practice of yoga gave me structure to my self care. The way I think has changed, especially in relationship to self. My reality thus has changed. My weight loss is only a symptom of the massive changes within.

In the midst of all of this my dad and stepmom have separated. Their is big losses in this, especially for my kids. A lot of magic is gone for them. I have been honored to hold space for my dad in this time. His transformation along side mine has been a gift to be part of. We go to yoga together and have long talks about the meaning of life. We drink our coffee together and in the those few minutes it's nice to feel connection to him before we start our days. Each night that he is home he reeds books to my kids and tells them his famous Sammy Squirrel stories. Epic adventures take place in my kids imagination as he process their struggles in his story telling.

Even with Jake working and spending most of his free time writing we are as connected as we ever have been. Cheering each other on and watching each of our processes. Our relationship transforming, molding, expanding to new adventures. More love, less boundaries and radical honesty.

I have found the calm in the storm. Learned to counter the swells of life. The voice inside that tells me lies, that tells me to brace myself for the storm is getting quieter. The voice wonders, will Jake have a flare when his stress level lowers, will we be able to buy a house in the fall as we have dreamed, will holidays still find the same magic for us, will we be financially stable, will my kids continue to grow and be happy, will I continue to prioritize myself. I honor that voice and I hear you. But I say back, “Right now we are okay, notice.”

Leo woke up this morning telling me tales from his dreams. A boy with a speech delay talked endlessly to me at five in the morning as the sun came over the mountains and shined onto our bed. Volcanos, lava, fire trucks, lakes, fishing, rescues, cowboys, lassos and foxes. In the end a fox, I often think of as my spirit animal, digs a hole deep deep into the center of Mother Earth and our family jumps in together.

Just maybe the fox is guiding us to the center of it all, just like Leo's dream. We are finding peace in Mother Earth's embrace.

Why Yoga is changing my life...

I have struggled with my weight since I was teen and thus I have struggled with my self esteem. I have known everything I needed to lose weight. I could never figure out the emotional eating. Bored...eating will give me something to do. Feeling sad...eating will make me happy. Feeling anxious...eating will calm me. No matter how many times I tried to lose weight...I ALWAYS fail. My brain constantly told me I was going to fail because I always have.

But then someone told me this, “Your past does not need to dictate your future!” Something changed in that moment. I became freed to be successful. I choose to take risk, live confidently, to see my own beauty and worthiness.

I began to challenge every negative thought. The voice in my head lies to me all the time. It lies to me so many times that I don’t even know what reality is any more. I began a practice of mindfulness and started going to yoga five days a week. My yoga classes are held in a room heated between 85-95 degrees with humidity around 45%. Its physically challenging yoga meant to create strength. The first few classes I melted, I nearly fainted. I would stare in the mirror and tell myself I was too fat for this. But I came the next day again because when I walked in the door is was about me. There was no requests asked of me other than to serve my needs. It became a refuge for my soul. I started to look at the mirror and say, “You are badass.’

As I continued to feed my soul with yoga and mindfulness, my eating began to shift. Food was losing its power over me. I wasn’t eating my emotions. Its not that it isn’t hard for me some days. I have bad eating days. The difference now is that I don’t say, “See you're failing like you always have.” But instead I am saying, “You had a rough day.” Thats it. I notice that I had a bad eating day but I don’t focus on it. I don’t give it grand meaning. I start again the next day. I freed myself of guilt.

On my sixth yoga class, the instructor asked me what I wanted to focus on and I told her I need more clues on how to modify things. Halfway through the class she said grab six blocks and meet me at the wall. I was freaking out inside and preparing to be embarrassed again. She had me place three yoga blocks under each shoulder with my head hanging in between and then I was to kick my legs up to the wall. I thought there's no way in hell I can get my fat ass up on that wall. The voice in my head was abusive and terrified. But I trusted my instructor and I tried. I kicked up a few times and she gave me some more instruction. I was dying inside. But then I tried again and I fucking did it. Then I did it again. The next day I tried without the blocks and it was no problem. Few days later I learned to lift my head up off the floor and to support my body with my forearms. I have yet to figure out the handstand but it's close.

Last night's yoga was incredibly hard and focused on the hips (not my favorite). The class was packed and I was struggling with my confidence. Nearing the end of class. The instructor asked us to clear the the floor and meet her at the front. She put us in lines and demonstrated cartwheels. Again I was dieing. The voice told me I was too big for that. It told me I couldn't. But I was in line and it was going to happen. I prepared and went for it. You know what? I flew. I did three cartwheels perfectly with bouncy. I honestly had no clue I could do that.  People commented on how well I did and I was equally shocked. I then looked over in the corner and there was a woman about my size who did not want to try. I use to be her but now I say yes. I try. I surprise myself.

After both of these classes I wept with joy. Its an amazing opportunity to be given the chance to prove yourself wrong. To tell the voices to shut the fuck up. To tell yourself, your past does not dictate your future. My body has so much more power then I think it does.

I have lost 30 pounds. My clothes are falling off, my body is toner, my boobs are smaller (I got to buy my first Victoria Secret bra!), I can run longer, food had less power in my life, I have a confidence and love for myself that I have never felt.

I am worthy to feel loved, to have friendship, worthy of time to myself, worthy to feel joy in the midst of others suffering, worthy to feel the energy of the Universe flow through me. I am not dictated by anything. My light shines bright and I feel the web of light that connects it all. Not only am I worthy, I know that I can do it. I believe in my light.

The Goal Now is to Find Identity without Doing

Raising young kids takes every ounce of energy you have. It is the most selfless time of your life. You spend your days watching them grow. Your hours are spent nursing, feeding, holding, teaching, and protecting them.  For the rest of my life I will have to let go as the twine unravels. It is one of the scariest emotions of my life. Trusting others with their heart and spirit. But I put my girls on a bus this year. And as I stood there as the tears flow down my face, the vacancy of purpose was fully felt. My heart ached but something inside of me pushed me forward. It’s your time. Do the work. Heal. Open. Create. Find joy.

All of this lead me to reflecting on my childhood and education. When I was young I was often withheld from the arts. It was something “I did not need.” Instead I would work with teachers on my reading, spelling and writing that were far behind my classmates. Their was this book of the most used 1000 words in the english language and I would study them. Read them. Write them. Spell them. Be them. And when they were mastered they would get crossed off and I would start the next ten words. 

As I went to middle school. I was not allowed to be in choir, band or orchestra. I took study hall with teachers to help me with my homework. As I grew older into high school I receive attention and praise for school work. I had learned at a young age the joy of surprising people when they underestimated me. That is why I ended up graduating with honors. I wanted the world to know that I was capable. But what I did not realize is the depth of the damage that was caused by judging myself on what I could produce. With a grade given on a piece of paper that means nothing now. I did not realize that I was withheld from creative expression. What a horrible thing to do to a child. Take away art and place all attention on the “core subjects.” There is a calling inside of me. I need to become my own arts teacher. As I put my toes in the water I am taken back at how alive I feel. Self expression is blood for the soul.

Recently I was photographed by the amazing Anna Yorrow for her Spirit & Bone collection. A collection about rawness, women, childhood, nature and transformation. When talking about my life I often talk about walls and shields that I have built to protect myself. As I sat in front of the camera, my witness, I found myself creating structure and a feeling of disappoint came over me. In the moment I interpreted the structures as barriers to protect me from the rawness of the experience. But as the experience began to unfold within me, it became clear that the structures did not represent shields but creation. The rocks, the sticks, the dead grass, the feathers, the debris were my building blocks. Building a being made full of strength and tenderness just like the rocks that crumble in my hands. Rotten trees fell at my feet. But there was life in the midst of it all. Flowering cacti at my back. Encouraging me to awaken.

I don’t have much experience with chakras. I do know that my heart chakra has always been a place of great pain for me. Jake and I have dabbled a little in tantric sex. But being a rape survivor it is challenging for me to give fully in this way. In recent years I have been able to be more fully present with intimacy. Recently I had a mystical experienced while making love. As the motions began I felt disconnected. I caught myself and asked my heart to open. In that moment it felt like my heart chakra broke open. My breath moved easily through my chest. I felt deeply connected to All That Is. But even more I felt worthy. I felt worthy of touch, of attraction and of love. In that moment I felt radical acceptance of myself and weeped with joy.

I am at a threshold. Letting go of old coping methods that no longer serve me. Its interesting that the more connected I become with myself the more I crave connection with others. Sharing vulnerability is a strength and much needed honesty in our culture.

Here is my reading from the gallery opening...

Sometimes I wonder if becoming a mother was a cop-out.

At twenty I had lost everything. Not my belongings, my family, or my friends. I had lost myself. A man took that from me.

I worry that people don’t want to read another story about a woman finding herself after rape. It’s like a broken record. It’s “here we go again.”  

But my chalkboard, that once described my essence, was wiped clean. My dreams taken by the wind.

Can a women become broken when her bones are intact? When her flesh is unblemished?

And if women can...what heals her?

Can the love of a man or the weight of a baby? What heals her heart? What heals a life unlived?

I have felt the loving caress of a man and I have held three babies in my arms. I have fed them from my breast and birthed them from my shadows.

But if you take them all away. If you take the roles of wife and mother. What is left?

Brokenness. My roles are a blanket that shields the work undone.

My chalkboard still wiped clean. Vacancy.

I tend to hold these blankets close, thinking they are offering protection from the world.

But all along the blankets themselves were preventing my healing. Blocking the light from shining on my broken bones and blemished skin.

I have given my blankets up to the Universe. I have let my roles as mother and wife stand beside me and not cover me.

Now I stand in this dry river bed. With my brokenness.

I begin again. My bones and tissues begin to mend. My chalkboard, my canvas.

Why I Care About Police Brutality...

If you follow my Facebook page you can see that I care deeply for the movement against police brutality and equality of all of our citizens. Maybe you have thought it is a little overkill. Maybe you have wondered why it matters so much to me. I want to answer that question.

The last few weeks have been hard for me. The events that have unfolded and the imagery of police everywhere have pulled my PTSD from the shadows. Though I am a white middle class citizen, my personal story of police brutality has shaped much of my life. Ten years ago this last November while a sophomore in college I was raped by a police officer. His manipulation of me began early in the night as he showed me his badge and weapon at a social event. I heard stories of taking people down and his conquests over said criminals. Later as he took his shirt off I was shown the full power of his body. I was young at the time and still had a lot of trust in the police. I trusted that I was safe with him and felt flatter that he was interested in me. I now understand that every story he told and every action he took was to place fear in me. Upon my protest of his advances he whispered ever so quietly, "I will hurt you if I have to." When he said those words I believed him completely. 

So I understand what a fear of the police feels like. My heart races every time I see a police officer or police car. When I have been pulled over in the last ten years I act strange in the eyes of the officer because I am terrified. My heart is fully present with the people of Ferguson and New York.

Clearly this is a hard issue to talk about. For many of the last ten years, I have been scared to speak out of what happened to me. I was not only scared of other police trying to “shut me up” as I was warned could happen but scared of the questions that come next. I received all the post rape questions. “Why did you not leave? Why did you not fight back? Why did you go with him? Why did you not scream?” Those words still echo in my bones. The message I received from many close to me was that I clearly should have done something different so that this would not have happened to me.

I hear that same attack against Michael Brown and Eric Garner. They clearly needed to do something different to not get killed. “If they only would have…” The victim shaming is the same. The fear of the police is the same. But I was traumatized by one man and the community that protected him. Minority communities are traumatized repeatedly and their life is often threatened.

I think white people like to believe we have come a long way sense slavery to give ourselves comfort. Institutionalized racism still holds the bonds of slavery. Our jails and prisons are full of black men. Education discrepancy. Economic standing. Infant mortality. The list goes on for plight of minorities. I was told I will be hurt into submission. Black men are told that they will be killed into submission. This is not the society I want to live in.

How can we trust someone who holds a gun and intimidates citizens into "proper behavior"? Does our society truly need people that have been GIVEN the right to threaten our lives with deadly weapons? As long as a gun is held on the hip of a police officer I will forever feel threatened.

Let us pass strict gun control laws, pay to get guns off our streets AND out of the hands of the majority of the police. Let us train police in cultural norms, conflict resolution, restorative justice and proper ways to restrain people. Let us join them together with community leaders as part of a team for a better civil society.

The Earth Goes Dormant but an Awakening is in the Shadows

This time of year is usually very hard for me. The days grow shorter, the suns absence becomes more noticeable, the Earth's blanket dies and goes into dormancy. It is a time I honor my own sadness and darkness. I must admit that the transition of seasons is much easier in New Mexico. The days are shorter but the sun is almost always present. The sun and blue skies offer hope to my heart. Winter does not overwhelm me in darkness here. We had our first snow fall this last weekend. Fun to have the kids come in to our bed screaming "Its snowing." The first snow is always so magical, especially for kids. Jake had them out in the snow before breakfast. Santa Fe having such a high elevation still sees winter though nothing as extreme as Bemidji does. The weather is the best of all worlds. We have done a lot of laughing watching people with coats, scarves, hates and mittens in the forties. They complain like it is the end of the world. Snowplows out with an inch of snow on the ground that will melt by afternoon. Maybe we too will become weak to the cold but for now we are pretty hardy. We do love Santa Fe. It is rich with the hispanic culture and extreme love of the arts. Their seems to always be family friendly events to go to. I say to Jake all the time, "I love it here." With that said the absence of loved ones grows heavier. I really thought it would get easier as time went on but it seems to be harder. The loss of being five minutes away from family is substantial. At times it takes my breath away. Their is such a gift found in being known. Starting over is hard. As the season calls me to slow and honor my spirit I feel thankful for the opportunity to focus inward. I am enjoying having time to spend on myself. Exercising, going to the hot tub or sauna. Focusing on feeding the family nutrious foods. Spending time going to yoga and the zen center growing my connection to self and the Universe. The count down to our flight back home to Minnesota has begun. The kids have big plans that become more detailed daily. My heart longs to feel the warmth of the fire, to hear the laughter of loved ones, to be held in the comfort of being known and to watch the magic of the season in my children eyes. Maybe this year more then any other year will the true meaning of the season come forth. The idea of material gifts seem trivial in comparison of the gift of being together.