Today I want to share with you the rituals of self care that I use to nourish and replenish myself.
Over the last year, I have noticed that I am consistently more joyful and more at peace than I have been in a long time. It is a joy that has been carved out, worked for and earned, and because of that, I know that it cannot be taken away from me without my permission.
Many things contributed to this replenishing of my inner wellbeing, but one of the main factors was my steady devotion to the quiet things that fill my cup.
I began to schedule and commit to my joy as I would to any other obligation I had. I show up for it. I am punctual. I am prepared. I hold myself responsible and accountable for my state of being.
To me, self-care is about uncovering the delight of this brief life. It serves to connect me with full self, and then, most importantly – in allows me to extend that connection to the world.
Today I want to talk about something that I am going through in my life right now – and that is, my experience with anxiety. When it comes to making videos and writing blog posts for you guys, I always want to talk about something that I am directly experiencing or practicing in my life. And right now, the main thing is – anxiety, so…that’s what you’re going to get!
Today I want to discuss how to face and overcome the traumatic experiences in our life. Life is hard. We all get served up experiences that can really rock us at our core, and is varied and unique for everybody. My question is, how do you go through these devastating and life altering situations and still continue to put one foot in front of the other, and still live with joy in your heart.
Cultivating and designing a worthy life is a balance of the goodness you infuse it with, along with the boundaries you place that protect your joy. I thought I would share with you some of the things I decided to stop doing, which I have found to be just as critical as the things I do do.
When I was pregnant with Reya, I attended the high risk maternity clinic every 1-2 weeks. During one of these appointments, as I walked down the hallway, I saw that the door to one of the examination rooms was open. Inside, there was a couple; the woman was sobbing into her hands, her husband’s eyes were dark and wet, and he was holding her.
I felt that woman’s pain that day, and I will always feel her pain. Because I was her, not too long ago. And I am coming to realize that no matter how much time passes, I will never be too far from that pain. The pain of losing your child.
I once got an e-mail from a reader who once asked about the magic of life, how to see it, how to feel it, how to live from within it.
The magic of life; the most beautiful thing about it is that it is already the fabric of everything, we just have to notice it.
Here are some of the magic that I have noticed in my life. I hope that it may bring a soft, sweet awareness to your day.
Most of the things I have written here, are things we do or experience everyday, but we do it mindlessly, without noticing the majesty of it all. When we do that, we miss the magic of life. I believe that bringing some awareness to these simple acts and truths, can truly transform your life. It has certainly changed mine.
Life has been floating by. I stopped writing and I stopped taking photographs. I just couldn’t find it in me. I think there was too much to feel and be a part of lately.
After Mia’s due date passed, I couldn’t quite come back from it. The day itself was as difficult as I had anticipated, but there was a heaviness in the weeks to follow that made life slow and tired. I feel forever changed, touched by death.
I spent a short time with my parents in BC. One afternoon I said to my mother “I am to you what Mia is to me. You must love me so much.”
My mom just smiled.
Slowly, I find myself coming back to my words.
And I wrote something about my daughter. It was too big to be a poem, and too small to be a story. So here it is, rough, but loved – a little piece of writing from my heart.
I waited for you, for a very long time, since the beginning of the winter, since the beginning of time. You promised you would come one summer, and that one day we would meet, one day we would fly together, and my heart would be complete.
I’ve asked some friends and they said they would consider me to be a positive person. In fact, as I walk this unimaginable path of the loss of our first unborn child, so many have told me they admire my positivity.
Even my husband often says that I’m a positive person.
I am sitting at my parent’s dining table. It is 6:30 in the morning. The house is quiet and the new risen sun is pouring its warm white light through the window and onto me.
Over the last few years I have been compiling a list of lessons, reflections and realizations I experience in my life. 2 years ago I shared everything I had written in there to that point. You can find that post here.
Since then I have learned a few more things and I would like to share them with you today.