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Self Love

Quieting the Voice of Worry

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It seems our minds have developed an unfortunate dependency on worry. In the blips of time when “everything is under control,” the mind kicks into overdrive, determined to find a problem to latch onto, a problem to worry about.

Then, the pellets of doubt begin to drop and we are eventually drowned in an all-consuming flood of ‘what-ifs?’

It’s frightening how easy it is for me to put a negative spin on the positive. My brain has a lifetime of wiring supporting the perpetuation of worry.

What gives? Why the ceaseless pounding of doubt and fear?

As a Hypnotherapist, and chronic worrier, I’ve discovered a common root to this conundrum- the inner critic, the voice of incessant chatter that feeds off of problems, real or perceived.

I call my voice Sheila, and she is quite unpleasant.

After years of allowing her volume to grow to a nauseating magnitude, and witnessing the same phenomenon in clients, I decided that something had to give. There were voices that needed to be silenced, or at least significantly minimized.

The following release work has supported myself, and many others, in turning the voices of our motley inner crew down from 10 to ‘Shh…’

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  1. Mindful Breathing– The rhythmic patter of steady breath offers a productive replacement to the, “No you can’t, not good enough, what if, I think you’re wrong, just give up.”

It’s difficult to live in a state of chaos when our body is checking into its healing room, via breath work.

Try it- take five deep breaths, inhaling to a slow count of 5, holding for 3, and exhaling to a slow count of 5.

Allow the body to sink deeper into the inner healing room with each breath.

  1. Tapping- We have an electrical system running through our body via channels called meridians. When we have a negative thought our electrical system is disrupted.

Each of the meridians has an end point, and we can release the negative energy by tapping on these points. While tapping, we verbally state the negative followed by our positive preference.

For example, “Even though I am sad my boyfriend broke up with me, I know I am wonderful and worthy of love.”

While repeating the statement, tap 5-7 times in the following locations:

  1. In between the eyebrows.
  2. On the temples.
  3. Underneath the eyes.
  4. On the upper lip.
  5. Below the lower lip.
  6. On the collarbone.

Repeat this round three times.

  1. Write out the worry and rip it up- It is profoundly cathartic to physically destroy a piece of negativity.

Write down your worry, regret, fear, anger, or other variety of negativity on a scrap of paper and rip it up into minuscule shreds, or burn it- I prefer the later.

  1. Self Hypnosis– There are vibrant worlds of possibility waiting to be sparked in the mind, and manifested in our reality. When this occurs, there’s no space left for that jerky inner critic.

Honor time by taking a few moments of focused stillness to tap into these flames of positive manifestation and allow them to thrive.

Let’s take the first step into this voyage. After taking your five breathes, allow the vibrations of relaxation to flow through you, flushing out the muck of worry that has latched on to your being.

Begin to envision your thoughts as clouds passing through the sky of your mind. You can view these clouds with a clear perspective, but are not intertwined in them- you’re just observing them with curiosity.

You don’t feel, absorb, or analyze the clouds- you just allow them to float by.

The dark clouds do not stay to rain down worry, they pass just as quickly as the others- they don’t touch you.

When you’ve separated from these clouds, feel yourself drifting deeper within, to your inner sanctuary.

  1. Do a song and dance routine- Sometimes we need to stop taking our problems, other people’s opinions, and ourselves so seriously. The best way to do this is act like a fool in love with life.

After you’ve moved through the fore mentioned release techniques stick that cherry on top by playing your jam and dancing like a fiend.

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We’re able to invest as much, or as little, time as we like to this release work, the time does not matter, it’s the intention that holds the power.

When we first begin our practice the voice may follow us for a bit, questioning the state of comfort that we’re floating in. But, the voice will eventually lose its luster, relinquishing its dominance to our true essence, residing in our core- the true essence that is composed of all that is good in the world, and all the wonder that is waiting to bloom into existence.

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A Mom’s Guide to Peeing On the Go

Disclaimer: Be prepared to read some tongue-in-cheekiness.

(Photos not included. You’re welcome.)

My 86 year-old Grandmother, who raised three children in the badlands of West Texas, recently mentioned that there needs to be a pee-on-the-go guide for well-hydrated mothers- so we made one.

As mothers, we live with a wide array of discomforts- kicked shins, Legos, brushing the teeth toddlers, bathing Tasmanian Devils, hunching over all.the.time, and eating soggy leftover crumbs, to name a few- we should not stand for a full bladder, we should not.

Sometimes a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.

This starter guide is meant to spark your imagination when fantasies of unoccupied toilets are swirling in your mind, and a child is pounding on your bladder- internally, or externally.

I’ve collected the following examples from my own piddle parties, those of fellow full-bladder-ed mamas, and my Grandmother.

You can pee…

  1. In a diaper during bumper-to-bumper traffic.

If I don’t go now, my bladder might explode, rendering me incapable of driving, thus causing more traffic. It’s my civic duty to pee in that diaper.

  1. In the shower.

I just soaped up, slathered on the shaving cream, and the Mount Vesuvius of urine erupted into my bladder. The baby is screaming and I had to leave for my appointment ten minutes ago- there is no time for rinsing and repeating. Pee here now.

  1. In a hole, at the beach, while the partner holds a towel up.

But then, the wind picks up, giving the rowdy group of teenage boys a full moon view. Oh, I forgot to mention that the water is frigid and I “forgot” my bathing suit.

  1. On the side of the road.

I’m on a road trip, there’s no sign of a sign for a rest stop, and all my attention needs to be utilized to calm the screaming small one.

  1. Two feet away from the tent that’s 15 yards away from the “proper bathroom.”

The sleeping child’s mom radar will go off if I venture outside of the ten-foot force field.

  1. In the potty training toilet.

Because my male counterpart has been in the bathroom forever, we only have one bathroom, it’s cold outside, and my three cups of coffee just had a let down.

  1. In the pool.

No one will admit to this one but if we’re at the pool with our children, they’re all in the pool, and we have no adult support… Remember, we gotta do what we gotta do.

  1. The Men’s Bathroom.

No line- enough said.

  1. The secret employee bathroom in the grocery store.

Just do it.

  1. In the pants.

On opposite day, this side effect of childbirth would be seen as a perk. After pushing a human out of my Ms. Twitchet (as my Grandmother used to call it) the act of jumping, laughing, or standing up too quickly might just cause a light sprinkle in my knickers. Yay.

The few times I didn’t let the good times flow I ended up with an urinary tract infection- no one has time for that.

I empower you to brush aside modesty, your stoic nature, and your pants when the urge for a piddle purge strikes.

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The Birth Battle: Why My Birth Was Better Than Yours

There is a vicious, silent battle raging in the birthing world. Many feel that their way is the way, and those that do not subscribe are lost souls that need to be shown the light. The judgments that result from this birth battle often throw birthing women into shame, defense mode, or depression.

Instead of feeling like a badass for birthing a human, many women feel like traitors for not making the same decisions the women in their Mommy and Me class peddle.

Read more on Scary Mommy!

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Choose Happiness

When my bud of happiness attempts to bloom I’ve become conditioned to whither it with thoughts of why I’m not allowed happiness in that moment. I’ve become a master at conjuring negative thoughts that serve to diminish, or even eliminate, that beautiful flower of joy.

Why must I whither the bud, the bloom, and the flower? What would happen if I passed through the negativity and found myself in the still state of allowance? What if I simply choose to allow happiness?

Read the rest on Huffington Post!

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The Top 7 Enemies of the Nap

My son is 22 months old and naps two hours a day, if the stars are aligned. When the stars are at odds, I’m lucky if I can squeeze 30 minutes out of the deal, and those days are not pretty. Mama needs a minute (or 120 minutes) to stay sane.

But unaligned stars are not my only barrier to a solid toddler nap…

Read more on Babble!

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If Toddlers Were in Charge of Reality TV Programming

Spring is in the air, which means over here at Toddler-TV, we’re gearing up for a new season of drool, drama, tantrums, and giggles.

Tune in to find out which tots spill-all, who refuses to share, and which diva-in-the-making pinched their sister when mom wasn’t looking. This season is full of so many “Oh no she didn’t” moments, you won’t want to miss a beat!

Disclaimer: Toddler-TV is not responsible for any nudity or bodily fluids displayed on our live shows. Toddlers are unpredictable, and diapers easily removed.

Read more on Babble!

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10 Reasons I Must Wake Up Before the Sun, and My Child

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Added Perk: Being that mom who takes photos of her sleeping child.

I used to consider the concept of waking up before the sun sacrilege. I spent an embarrassing amount of time pondering what would possess people to happily wake up before 8am. I figured, if the sun was still asleep, shouldn’t I be asleep? Then, I had a baby.

After waking up every two hours for three-ish months, I broke up with the sun; I no longer needed her to help regulate my sleep cycles. As my breast milk flowed in, my consistent sleep cycles seeped out.

I now have a toddler, and while he doesn’t quite sleep through the night, he’s so over waking up every two hours. The catch is, I no longer have 5 plus hours of “free-time” to get stuff done while my infant naps, because my infant is now a 25 pound running, jumping, mud-puddle-finding machine.

This leads me to my current sleep cycle. I’ve joined the crazies and now wake up at 6am. It was painful coercing myself into this routine, but I’ve been converted. Why didn’t anyone tell me that all I needed to do to conquer the world (or be able to take a daily shower) was wake up an hour before my child?

The benefits have been popping up everywhere, and I’m loving it.

These are my top 10:

1. Bragging Rights. I now get to chime in when fellow humans are discussing the absurdly early hours they rise. Although I can’t tout the 4:30am wake up time my father adheres to (insanity,) I’m quite pleased with the evenness of my 6.

2. Quiet. It’s really quiet at 6am.

3. Coffee. The coffee tastes better at 6am. Really it does. I feel like I somehow deserve it more when I’ve dragged myself into the darkness of the morning.

4. Writing. Shockingly, it’s easier for me to get a few coherent thoughts from mind to screen when my child is sleeping. I’m able to sit wherever I please and seamlessly move my fingers without chubby tot hands pushing me aside to discover what mischief awaits in mommy’s computer.

5. Guilt-free. There is little guilt in waking up early. My child is not awake to see me not paying attention to him, I’m getting a jump start on the 256 things I need to complete before noon, and a yogi guru I once met told me to follow the Earth’s rhythms by calling it a day at 10pm and arising by 6am; and yogi gurus never feel guilty, right?

6. My House is Clean. I get to enjoy a blip in time when my living room is not covered in tiny trucks, my bathroom is not strewn with shredded toilet paper, and there are not bits of breakfast entwined in the carpet.

7. Injury Free Shower. I forgot how peaceful showering could be when a little person isn’t grabbing for my razor, letting all the warm air out of the shower, and super soaking his fresh diaper.

8. Coffee. Did I mention that coffee tastes better at 6am?

9. Greeting the Sun. There is something sacred in being present to witness the sun wake up. Having caffeine, creative juices, and some form of protein and veggie flowing in the system, while greeting the sun, sets a beautiful pace for the rest of the day.

10. I Greet My Child with Joy. If I’m still snoozing when my little one pops awake with the zest of a jumping bean, I’m not able to give him the enthusiasm his precious self deserves. When I’ve absorbed 1 through 9 of the above mentioned early rising perks, I greet my son with equal happy jumpiness, and it’s not just from the caffeine, or maybe it is, but whatever.

Mom Humor

The 10 Commandments of Your First Mom-Friend Date

Forget romantic dates with actual real life men. Now that you’re a mom, you’re facing something even more terrifying: mom dates. A first-time mom date can be even more fraught with anxiety than a romantic date. Although hanky-panky is off the table, the potential for mom shaming, guilt, and the hopes that you just may be meeting the love of your mommy-friend life abounds.

Read more at Babble!

Mom Humor

I Envision Other Mothers….

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I envision other mothers prepping three course (food pyramid approved) meals for their children, three times a day…

While I make scrambled eggs in the microwave… three times a day.

I envision other mothers spending a leisurely thirty minutes talking their tot through a gentle diaper change…

While I beg my child not to smear poop on my face as I haphazardly diaper him as we’re rushing out the door to the Mommy and Me (fill in the blank) class we’re inevitably late for.

I envision other mothers having the television removed from the home the instant they learn an impressionable new little human is growing within them….

While I frantically try to figure out how to get to the Netflix Kids app so I can have two uninterrupted minutes to scrub the microwave eggs out of the carpet, and my hair.

I envision other mothers mystically stretching time and completing all laundry, bathing, clothing, feeding, watering (of themselves and their children,) cleaning their shelter, and laughing (it’s most certainly a basic need,) ALL. IN. ONE. DAY.

While I spread out our basic needs over the course of a week, with the exception of laughing, we do plenty of that.

I envision other mothers prepping a developmentally appropriate art project for kiddo/s each day of the week….

While I consider arranging our spaghetti (with a side of microwave eggs) into abstract shapes during dinner, art project enough.

I envision other mothers polishing off thoughtful and inspiring replies to all 55 of their emails, in one hour, and shutting down the computer for the rest of the day…

While I pull out my cell phone, laptop, or tablet thingy 367 times a day in an attempt to get out any response to the 16 emails I have sitting in my Inbox.

I envision other mothers leaving helpful, humorous, and heartfelt posts on their online ‘Mom Group’ of choice…

While I’m fortunate if I can shoot off an incredibly helpful, ‘Me too!’ or ‘That Sucks!’

I envision other mothers taking an adorable holiday card photo in June, pre-ordering the cards by September, and shipping them out, complete with a tastefully witty ‘Our Year in Review’ letter, by November 29th….

While I post a ‘Happy Holidays’ photo of my child on Facebook on January 3rd, hoping all the relevant relatives see it.

I envision other mothers writing the next great American novel, or blog, during their child’s three-hour naps….

While I attempt to type out ONE SENTENCE as my child simultaneously kicks my typing hand and bites my boob. (I started writing this two weeks ago.)

I envision other mothers being really cool and cutting me way too much slack for all the lazy mom-isms I’m guilty of….

While I have a good laugh with my kiddo, and remember that, hey girl, it’s all good.

Self Love

We are Allowed to be Happy.

When the bud of complete happiness begins to bloom I’ve become conditioned to whither the bloom with thoughts of why I’m not allowed happiness in that moment.

I’ve become an unintentional master at procuring negative thoughts that serve to diminish, or even eliminate, that beautiful flower of joy.

Why? Why must I diminish the bud, the bloom and the flower? What would happen if I passed through the resistance and found myself in the still state of allowance? I choose to allow happiness.

The freedom of this choice came to me one morning when I was sitting under a comforting gray sky, holding the hand of my child in a rare moment of stillness and silence. We were soaking in the fresh grass that had surprised us after the last rain, and I felt complete happiness beginning to unfold within me.

This unfolding progressed, until I remembered that it wasn’t allowed. I had let my child watch a television show hours before, while I made a long phone call, and as a result, had guilt stewing in my gut. So, there was no place for complete happiness if I was still holding onto that guilt, right?

Read the rest on elephant journal! 

Mom Humor

The 5 Toddler Styles

I was under the mistaken impression as a pre-mom, that if I had a boy I could buy ten sets of one-size-fits all overalls and generic dark colored onesies that come in a pack of ten and be done with it. But no, I have made the fascinating discovery over the past 19 months that toddlers have the capacity to be even more finicky, in regards to style, than an editor at Vogue. I blame the finicky-ness on the father; I’m perfectly content with my one size fits all mom uniform (aka yoga pants any shirt that doesn’t have buttons.) Under the tutelage of my toddler, I have ascertained the following to be five of the top toddler styles.

  1. The Nudist

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Many a toddler enjoys the liberating breeziness that accompanies the engrossing accessibility of the nudist lifestyle. If it were not so expensive to rent a steam cleaner, after the toddler poops on the rug, I would be a heartfelt proponent of this clothing option, or sans clothing option. Because my clothes are usually thoroughly toddler-soiled, mildewing in the long forgotten washer, or wrinkled on the floor, I’ve become a personal nudist enthusiast.

  1. The Fashion-ista

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There is a squad of Fedorables that frequent our neighborhood park, and I’m slightly embarrassed to admit my son frequently leads the pack. Again, I blame it on his fedora-wearing father. If you haven’t established that a Fedorable is a fedora wearing toddler that will likely end up in a hipster band later in life, that’s what it is, and my tot is a card carrying member; he’s already begun to fine tune his skills on the electric keyboard and hipster harmonica. A fedora is not a requirement of the fashion-ista toddler, but a hip “in” clothing item is a must. This tiny token of coolness may come in the form a faux fur vest, twirly skirt, designer tutu, TOMS, or intentionally ripped $80 jeans.

  1. The Minimalist

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The simpler the better for this tot; the name of their game is simplicity, functionality, and comfort. They have no patience for the scores of buttons that accompany a patterned button-up blouse and accompanying hip-kid vest, and find the rawness of the Nudist style to be supremely inconvenient when trying to prevent sand from entering their crack at the park. This child is the one I imagined when I bought stock in Osh Kosh B’Gosh, anticipating the need to buy large quantities of the previously mentioned overalls.

  1. The Costumer
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He loves it.

This tot, similar to the fashion-ista, has a flair for the dramatics and has no problem sacrificing comfort in favor of making a bold statement. This is the child who bravely dons their fully insulated astronaut costume when accompanying mom to the store on a 100 plus degree summer-day, or the ballerina who must be dressed in her finest leotard and tutu when attending the Nutcracker on a balmy minus five-degree winter night. And don’t even think of diminishing the integrity of the tutu by encouraging the application of a coat.

  1. The PJ-er

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The PJ-er shuns any clothing item that isn’t composed of flannel, or does not have built-in footies. This child is true to my heart, and I am still this child. I’m such a proponent of resisting the removal of my flannels, or sleepy-time-yoga-pants, that my fully dressed fashion-ista child has taken my hand and led me to my closet, encouraging I put on “real clothes.” True story. I’m certain my next child will happily sit in their drool stained pjs with me all day, politely passing on social invitations that would require we leave the house. Unfortunately for me, the public ‘PJ-er’ toddler is much more socially acceptable that the public ‘PJ-er’ mother; I’m actively working on reversing this social stigma, one ‘flannel pj shirt and slept in yoga pants’ day at a time.

What style does your toddler rock? A combo of the minimalist and PJ-er? A fashion-ista with a sprinkle of Costumer? A 24/7 nudist?

Mom Humor

Ode to The Boy

Here’s a bit of ha-ha from this amateur poet.

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Oh little boy, my love for you is off the charts.

Your smiles melt my heart, and your toots smell like farts.

You tug on that penis, like it might come apart,

And your drawings with my mascara are state of the art.

I love the special treasures that you hide in our laundry cart,

But get a weary feeling when I stick my hand in a moldy tart.

I cherish our special feedings, on the tampon aisle at the mart,

But when you bite me while you’re feeding, I always give a start, (or let out a fart.)

Although I’m unsure that mac and cheese is best served a la carte,

The kale and spinach I’ll sneak into your next meal, will surely provide a dietary restart.

You are quite michevious, but do not yet rival Bart.

Don’t tell other parents I say so, but I know you’re extra smart,

I know so, the doctor has shown me all the ‘smarty’ charts.

In your honor, I won’t end this poem till I use every word that rhymes with fart.

In regards to spreading smiles, laughs, and poop, you really do your part.

Oh my preciously radiant, tugging, and tooting prince, you’ll never lose my heart.

Dear little boy,

I love you.

Mom Humor

Dearest Child (Today was Awesome)

(The following is not a 100% true story, but based on reality, don’t tell anyone.)

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Dearest Child,

This morning, on this day of Not-The-Weekend, 2015, we will stay in our pajamas and eat whatever refined sugar treat we can find in the freezer.

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If you can find it on my tablet thingy, you can watch that episode of that animated show you’ve seen approximately 1,256 times, 15 more times.

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We will not engage in any preplanned physical activity, and say that we did.

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We will close the curtains, turn the rain sound machine on, cozy up under the covers, and pretend we can’t do anything productive because it’s raining.

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We will put two sticks of butter out to soften, in preparation of burning some baked goodness, then lose motivation and make something easy out of the crescent roll dough sitting in the fridge from Thanksgiving.

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I won’t gripe at you for yanking all my “perfectly ironed” clothing down from the closet, creating a pile, and using it as a makeshift mound of leaves; I’ll even join you.

(We were having too much fun to take a photo.) 

If one of our mommy-baby couple friends knocks on the door, stopping by for an impromptu visit, we’ll hide in the bathroom until we’re certain they’re gone, so they won’t see our chocolate stained faces, semi-stinky pajamas, and happily guilt laden faces.

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I’ll hide my phone and only pick it up if Nana calls more than three times.

Because “it’s raining outside” you can use the chalk on that spot of the carpet that was soaked in coffee, or something else, long ago, what’s a little chalk going to hurt?

If we do select to bathe today, we’ll fill the tub with ten times the amount of recommended bubble bath and will summon our impressive fleet of rubber duckies, and have rubber ducky wars. Then, we’ll put our pajamas back on, the dirty ones, if we can’t find any others.

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Above all else, we’ll lie when daddy gets home and tell him we’re only wearing our pajamas because we’ve had such a healthfully productive day we’re going to bed early. Luckily, you cannot yet intelligibly talk, so I’ll do the lying thank you.

Today was awesome, you’re pretty cool, let’s do it again sometime.

Love,

Mom

Self Love

Newfound Eyes

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Sometimes life needs a new look, a pep talk, or maybe a rejuvenating kick in the butt. These life-revitalizing moments might just arrive in the most unusual forms.

Until recently, I’ve been stuck in a rut, a muddy rut that has the consistency of tar-like quick sand. I’m of course able to do laundry, dishes, baby bottom wipes, and other such tasks from this tar-like mud, but I can’t seem to wiggle myself free from the suctioning grasp of ‘stuck.’

No helping hand, stick, rope, or words of encouragement have had much effect, and then, I took a (almost) completely dark shower.

The less than ideal electrical system in our kitchen, which is obviously located right by our one little bathroom (yay for the scent of bathroom mixed with freshly cooked eggs,) can’t handle more than the convection oven and a light. Someone in the kitchen had the audacity to think they could boil water and burn some toast, whilst I was using light to shower, and that was just too much, lights out.

At first I was peeved, and then, when my bristles settled, I realized I could (almost) see and I became one with the newness. From body memory I retrieved the shampoo, the conditioner, the loofah, the soap, the…razor. Dun, dun…. dumb. I tried to shave in the dark; I was (almost) successful. The lights came back on as I nicked myself for the third-ish time. I was half tempted to turn them back off, because I was actually enjoying this new experience, sans nicks.

I could feel my brain being rewired, my synapses firing throughout this simple, yet out of the ordinary, event. I didn’t turn the lights back off because I noticed the water. I actually noticed it, every last exquisite drop, and I was in love (insert cheesy sigh here.) But, really. Had I ever-observed falling water? Like really examined it? No, I hadn’t. It was pretty phenomenal and was preaching mindfulness. My head was usually so full of the cacophony of “you need to do this, but actually you really should be doing that” I rarely had time to give my surroundings even a passing acknowledgement.

After I dressed my wounds from this spiritually fulfilling, yet physically painful, shower, I saw things, like ghosts, kidding. No ghosts, but plenty of details I normally miss when my mind is on the incessant proverbial hamster wheel of ‘what should I be doing after I finish what I’m doing?’

Here’s what I spied, with my two newfound eyes….

Rainbows, everywhere man.

A rainbow pouring through the water jug on the counter and spilling onto the tile below.

A rainbow shooting through the little crystal this hippie has hanging on the living room window, and splashing onto the adjacent wall.

A flash of a rainbow jutting out from our stained glass wind-chime dancing on the porch.

A rainbow materializing on the baby’s arm via the markers he was holding.

Life, like whoa.

That takes life.
That takes life.

I saw, and felt, life everywhere.

Life coursing through me.

Life in the (usually annoying) ants covering my banana from breakfast.

Life in the crows taunting the squirrels with empty nutshells outside (ha!)

Life in the water flowing through our rock fountain that had miraculously ceased making a high-pitched whirring tone.

Life in my baby who had moved from the markers to removing his own poop-filled diaper; not an easy task, that takes life, yo.

Simplicity, in all the hectic places.

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Simplicity in the pile of toys that didn’t need to be picked up that instant.

Simplicity in the phone that could be turned off.

Simplicity in the dishes that were cool to hang out on their own a bit longer.

Simplicity in my ability to just be.

Simplicity in the pure love I have for my child, regardless of the trail of poo and marker he was leaving in his wake.

Light, filling every corner, even the dark ones.

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Light in the dust dancing around my head.

Light glistening on succulent leaves that were thriving, despite my inability to figure out their proper watering schedule.

Light in the eyes of my child who just discovered how to open the latch of the baby gate, bingo.

Unicorns. Just kidding, maybe.

There was color, life, glorious simplicity, light, magic and love swirling around me, offering me a hand out of the mud, but I had never accepted it, I hadn’t even seen it. As the internal fog lifted, I was elevated up, out and into a clear new state of being. I was no longer stuck and I could see.

A simple event, that at first thought seems supremely inconvenient, has the potential to transform our perceptions, our life, and our light, if we leave ourselves open to the possibilities.

Let’s take a moment to put a new spin on a seemingly rote task, we might just open our life to magic.

Let’s take the constraints away from how we should be living and infuse some unconventionality into our behaviors; we might just open our life to revelation.

Let’s take that seemingly annoying power outage and become open to internally illuminating our life.

Here’s hoping the electricity shuts off while we’re taking our next shower!

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5 Ways You Receive Through Giving Back

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There is a trapdoor of love, which opens within us, as we release our fervent grasp on our time and gift it to others.

I’m a mother, a mother to an 18-month-old perkily precocious toddler/ runner. I, like most mothers, have piles of peed on baby laundry, dirty floors that desperately need a thorough wash, healthy meals that needed to be cooked (a week ago,) a baby raising partner who feels a tad bit neglected, in more ways than one, and a baby who desires my rapt attention ALL. THE. TIME. To put it simply, mothering is hard (and let’s not forget draining.)

With that said, I made the decision with the coming of the New Year to step outside of my hourglass of time and give to others; and not just give my money, but my time.

I decided to give my time to another mother.

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Now, you may muse at this time that I’m a bit peculiar for choosing to go help another mother fold her laundry, clean her floors, cook some food, soothe her fussy baby, and do other mom-ish-esque tasks when I have my own fore mentioned unending list of mom chores to attend to; but let me tell you, it’s been phenomenal, in a wholeheartedly un-sarcastic meaning of the word.

The opportunity to volunteer in the home of a fellow mother, who was even more overloaded than myself, felt an easy choice for where I would place my gift of time. ‘I get it, I know, I feel the unspoken emotions, concerns, joys, and pressures that course through you fellow mama, and I’m here for you.’

My time with this family has opened my eyes, opened my mind, and opened my heart to the true potential that the gift of time, support, and unconditional love can give to not just those you serve, but you. You are the ultimate receiver when you gift your time.

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These are five of the transformations that can occur when you discover the wonderful world of volunteering:

  1. Stepping Out of the Enticing Comfort Zone. Volunteer work pops a little hole in the bubble we live in and slowly busts us through and out, into a vibrant new world, where we are intimately exposed to those who are not in our immediate sphere of community. The rote tasks of daily life cause us to pigeonhole ourselves into a self-induced comfortable mold. We release the constraints this mold has on us by choosing to step out and do something for someone else, that will not bring direct monetary gain, or critical acclaim.
  1. Changing the World. You might not feel that helping one person, or one family will do much towards healing the crises our world is facing, but think again. If you, if I, if we each made the choice to step outside ourselves and lend a loving hand to another, and those that we touched then extended their hand to another, and a snowball of love slowly rolled through us all, we might just be able to begin to produce global healing. My volunteer work has sparked a newfound sense of global hope inside of me, and it feels really good.
  1. Renewing of Perspective. All strife, struggle, and sacrifice is valid, but, exposing our hearts to the strife, struggle, and sacrifice of others has the potential to transform our perspective, of our own internal turmoil, to that of, well, gratitude. Many times, when exposed to the core obstacles others are facing, we would happily stick with our own.
  1. Overwhelming Sense of Gratitude. When you experience the power of the change, hope, or simple smile you’re able to elicit in another, with the gift of your time, your world will open up to love, your flood gates of gratitude will be released, and there’s no going back. When you tap into the power of you, the power you hold within yourself that can be released through the simple act of just being there for another, especially a stranger, you’ll never see the world through the same eyes. Everything will now have an extra tinge of beauty, light, and irrevocable love. 
  1. Learning to Be Here It’s all here, everything we need, right here, right now. All we need to do to accept it and cease living in yesterday, or tomorrow, or two hours from now, but NOW. Live here right now. When you’re gifting your time, you’re there, right in that moment. You’ve stopped focusing on the email you need to send, the dry cleaning you need to pick up, or the cookies you need to go home and burn, because you’re there, in the moment, helping someone else make their life better, it’s not about you, and there is something so profoundly freeing when that realization hits. ‘I’m free to be here, right now, because that’s the only way I will truly help this individual, by being present for them in this moment.’ I was pleasantly surprised to find that if I wanted it to, the sense of now would follow me home and hang out with me long after I ended my volunteer work.

I used to think of volunteer work as something I would do “some day,” when I didn’t have as much “stuff” going on in my own life. I viewed it as a luxury of the rich or retired. What I’ve since discovered is that serving, volunteering, and giving, is not a luxury that should be put to “some day,” but is a basic human need. If I want to continue to not just survive, but thrive, I need to serve.