I never wanted to get married, it’s true.

And yet, I’ve always been fascinated with weddings photos.

While I don’t seek them out, if there happens to be a wedding magazine readily available, I will pick it up, thumb through it, and either exclaim over or (more often) mock the gowns, the table settings, and whatever decorations may be in place.

Every now and then there would be a wedding (always out-of-doors; generally in the woods) glamorized on some DIY wedding blog and I’d think, “IF I were to ever get married, I’d want a wedding something like that.”

Well, I did get married. And now, I want to share it.

So today, just for today, I’m going to pretend that this blog is a wedding blog and I’m going to tell you a bit about our wedding day… with photos!

*Unless noted, all photos were taken by the oh-so-lovely Lorijo Daniels. She’s awesome. You want her to take your photo!

Our Vision

We envisioned all of our friends and family joining us to help create the wedding. We wanted the people we love spending the day with us, helping us decorate, cooking food, and just hanging out and getting to know each other.

We know that it is our community that sustains us both as a couple and as individuals and wanted our wedding to truly be a community event.

The Setting:

We held the wedding in the woods at YMCA Camp Collins, located on the Sandy River, right next to Oxbow Park, a park that is dearly loved by both of us.

How it all came together:

Our families did all of the cooking for the wedding feast, our friends showed up early to help decorate and finish prepping the food, my brother married us, Jami did my make-up (so beautifully), and the amazing Emma peeled over 60 apples to make homemade apple crisp which she served hot from the oven.

Here we attempt to hang huge swaths of silk I’d dyed gorgeous shades of turquoise.

In fact, over the course of several evenings I had dyed three 10′X55″ swaths of silk, 31 scarves, 25 handkerchiefs, and 27 yards of ribbon. These doubled as decorations and take-home gifts for attendees. Fun!

I adore my friends. Here two of them are creating boutonnières and corsages for family members. Check out the super beautiful fern and leaf clippings they foraged. In the background you can see some brilliant pom-poms waiting to be hung. (Photo by Mom).

Ah. What would I do without Emily? She provided the lovely vintage tablecloth-sheets. She suggested the pom-poms. She told me what colors to use to complement my turquoise and turmeric obsession. Then, she hand-painted wooden signs for us and sewed me the most awesome Owl in the world (Photo by Mom). Hot damn!

Earlier that morning, my dad, brother, and brother-in-law headed out on a secret mission to Cascade Locks to procure freshly caught wild salmon from tribal fishers. That evening, they grilled up four HUGE salmons – the best ever eaten. :) Photo by Dad.

This is one of my favorite photos. It’s meta! Lorijo is fixing my hair. Tom, who takes absolutely incredible black and white film photos, is patiently waiting. Photo by Dad.

The dress! Everyone wants to know about the dress, right?!

Well, if you happen to have a difficult to fit figure like I do, Cocoon Silk on NW 23rd Ave is the only place to go for the most amazing dress you’ll ever wear.

They specialize in custom made gowns created from spectacular, handmade Cambodian silk.

Savonna and his staff will personally help you choose the style that will best suit you (and your circumstances) and then make certain it fits you perfectly.

I wanted a dress that was flow-y and fitted, that wouldn’t take up a lot of space, that would be easy to wear and fun to walk and dance in. I totally got it.

I hate shopping (I always end up feeling like a freak because nothing ever fits me correctly) and yet, I loved every moment of my time spent at Cocoon Silk.

The Ceremony:

The ceremony was brief, sweet, and perfect. My brother officiated. The Mukluks played beautiful music for us. A hawk soared overhead.

Note: check out how dashing my soon-to-be-husband looks in his perfectly tailored vest and pants (also from Cocoon Silk).

The Mukluks – Peter and Monique.

Yes, Baby Mukluk is on the way! Very soon. Please send blessings and well wishes their way. Thank you.

Also, The Mukluks just released their first two singles. They are awesome. And, I’m not just saying that because I happen to be fortunate enough to be friends with them. I’m saying that because they are. Awesome. :)

 We did it! Standing before our family and friends for the first time as husband and wife.

Finally, thank YOU (yes, you)!

To all who read (this and the last post), commented, and sent or thought nice things, thank you.

And, an extra huge Thank You to those of you who participated in or attended our wedding as well.

Every one of you is part of our community and I’m so grateful you are in our lives. Much, much, much love!

PS. I posted a bunch more photos over at Google+. For now they are posted publicly and everyone can view. Soon, I’ll change it so only people in my circles can view my pictures; I’ll leave them public for as long as I can stand though.

And, if you aren’t on G+ and want an invite, let me know.

Comment Magic:

For a woman who had never dreamed of getting married, I somehow had a dream wedding. I am in awe of and inspired by the generosity, support, and love of our friends and families – both present and not. Truly, the entire day felt enchanted.

What I’d love to hear from you today is congratulations, well wishes, and stories of your own Enchanted Day – whatever it may be, wedding or otherwise.

(more love)

AN OPEN LETTER TO YOU:

Hello You,

I have some things to tell you. Things that are personal in nature. Things that, while personal, are directly affecting how I am showing up in my business right now.

Let’s go.

I’m getting married on September 29th.

Photo Credit: Lorijo Daniels

Shocking. To me at least. I never wanted to get married.

I was never that girl who dreamed of her fairy tale wedding and fantasized over the dress, the colors, the… well, whatever else it is that young girls include in their wedding fantasies.

If anything, I was the opposite.

I was the girl who never, ever, ever wanted to get married. I was the girl who turned into a young adult and eventually a woman still singing the same song.

And yet, here I am now, 6 weeks out from becoming a married woman.

A woman who is even going to take her man’s last name.

If I think about it much, it totally freaks me out.

And yet, I have to think about it, I have to allow the fear, the worry, the anxiety to arise.

How else can I meet it? How else can I work through all the terror that the concept of marriage brings up in me?

For so many years, marriage meant:

• complacency
• stagnation / the end of growing and evolving as a person.
• the possibility of being abandoned, of being hurt, of being lied to or cheated on (at worst) OR of living in a state of passionless co-existence (at best??).
• a horrible, dreadful thing that you stayed in ‘out of obligation,’ or ‘for the children,’ or because you were too scared to leave or didn’t believe there was the possibility of anything better for you out there.
• losing myself, my identity, my larisa-ness.

I’m quite certain there are many other awful connotations and closely held fears as well. These are just the ones that jumped out of my fingers in this moment.

Marriage, to me, never meant anything positive.

And, honestly, the vast majority of the marriages that I saw totally fed and confirmed my belief.

And yet, here I am, about to get married.

Some major internal shifts have had to occur in order for this to even be a possibility.

I’ve had to learn a whole hell of a lot about love. And trust. And surrender.

For instance, I had to trust that when he asked me to marry him and I felt that sense of rightness in my body, that it was right.

And, I’ve had to slowly, slowly surrender to and trust the love that we have for each other on a much, much deeper level than ever before.

Committing to marriage is perhaps the scariest things I’ve ever done.

I’ve sat with and met oceans of fear and terror - sometimes successfully. Often not.

I’ve picked up the pieces time and time again after totally freaking out and starting some huge fight.

I’ve learned to trust that fighting can (and for us often does) lead to a deepening understanding and increased love.

And, I’ve had the privilege of discovering just how much old wounding can begin to heal when two people fully commit to being true both to each other and to themselves.

All the work and unraveling of old constructs has been worth it.

My capacity to love and to allow myself to be loved has doubled, tripled, quadrupled (!) over this past year.

It is all because, a year ago, I said yes.

Because I said yes and then, with the support of

• the man in the picture :),
• my family/friends,
• my Allies (and Owl Eyes),
• and of Spirit,

began the process of meeting and beginning to heal the fear and pain-filled thoughts that the prospect of marriage triggered in me.

Now, today, I actually feel *excited* about the wedding.

I honestly can’t wait to share our commitment to each other in front of our families and closest friends. I get all teary just thinking about it. (gah, I guess I am one of those girls now).

I’d never in a million years guessed this could happen.

So, how does this affect you?

Well, you might have noticed that my writing here is no longer bi-monthly. It dropped down to monthly one (2?) month(s) ago already. And, next month, it likely won’t exist at all.

Right now all this getting married stuff is consuming my energy and something has to go. The writing part of my business is what I’m letting go… at least until October, after things have settled.

Until then, if you’d like to share in my excitement, please do!

Or, if you have any similar experiences of completely changing your mind about something you thought was set in stone, I’d love to hear it. I can’t be the only one who’s made such a complete reversal, right?

Sending so much love to you (wherever you are, whatever is happening in your life right now),

larisa

Yesterday was the 4^th class of my Listening and Shiva Nata series. It has been even more fun than I’d anticipated. The combination of listening, working with the senses, and Shiva Nata is like a freaking wonder drug!

Anyway, yesterday we were playing with the concept of Body Radar – that innate ability of our bodies to take us exactly where we need to be, when we need to be there.

Or, as per Coyote’s Guide, Body Radar “encourages us to let go of our plans and agendas and listen to the unconscious knowledge and guidance of our body.”

To begin tuning into this particular sense, we practiced the Art of Wandering.

We tuned into our senses (our Owl Eyes, Deer Ears, etc) and then, with eyes open or closed, we slowly turned in a circle until we felt pulled in a particular direction.

And then, we wandered. If we came to an intersection, we would again pause, center deeply into our senses and yet again, allow our bodies to choose where we went.

What’s the point? Why would we want to develop an ability to wander?

Oh, I can think of a reason or two.

For instance, perhaps simply so we don’t have to think so much?

If our bodies are truly wise (which I believe is true) and do know what is best for us (which I also believe), we can cut a lot of the anxiety and worry out of our lives simply by letting our bodies lead.

Also, there’s something really powerful about being centered enough in our bodies so that we can allow them to lead.

Our bodies are always in the present moment. When we can tune into our senses and through our senses, into our Body Radar, we enter the present moment as well.

In the present moment, we have options.

If wandering, for example, we can go left. We can go right. We can turn in circles. We can fall to the ground and take a nap. We can examine and smell the flowers in front of us. We can walk backwards.

When we are truly connected in, there are no wrong choices. Wherever our bodies are, that is exactly where we want to be. And, exactly where we need to be.

What does it take to wander?

In class, we discovered that it takes 3 main things:

1. A relaxed state of being – aided by any centering exercise available. We used Owl Eyes and Shiva Nata to get there.
2. Tuning into our senses (listening!) to bring us more fully into our bodies. And,
3. Trust.

Trust is the big one.

Trust that our bodies do know where they are going.

Trust that when we were blindfolded (yes, we wandered blindfolded for a bit as well) our bodies knew how to avoid the trees.

Trust that we didn’t need to see the obstacles before us in order to be safe.

And, without fail, our bodies did exactly that.

As the instructor, it was amazing to watch a student walk directly for a tree and then, just before running into it, either

• turn to walk a different direction or
• put their hands out, feel the tree and then spend some time getting to know that particular tree.

It very clearly showed just how connected our bodies are to our surroundings – whether we can see them or not.

And, to all of us in the class, it clearly showed just how remarkable of a tool Body Radar really is.

When might wandering be useful?

There’s a lot of directions (hee) I could take this question.

For instance, we could talk about how using Body Radar and Wandering can help us find lost objects.

Or, we could talk about all the synchronicity and coincidences that begin popping up regularly when our bodies lead.

Or, how we magically end up in the most beautiful place in the park or are at just the right place at just the right time to magically make the perfect connection for some upcoming project.

Really, the possibilities are endless.

What I want to highlight today is how useful our bodies can be in helping us make decisions.

In our journaling session at the end of class yesterday, I asked this question:

How might tuning into my body be useful when making decisions?

Here is the answer that sprang from my pen. :)

My decisions would be more grounded. They would be grounded in my body.

There would be no second guessing or doubt. No doubt about where I was going, what I needed to do and also no doubt that it would be absolutely fine if the decision changed or if I ended up somewhere completely different from where I began.

The ‘decision’ would just be a starting point. A jumping off point, not the ‘answer.’

Basically, there would be so much more space for exploration, for play, for freedom.

To end, I’d like to encourage you to play with this whole Art of Wandering thing.

Tune into your senses, turn in a circle (eyes open or closed) and allow your body to be pulled wherever it may want to go.

Or, grab a blindfold and a partner (the partner to tap you on the shoulder just in case your Body Radar isn’t yet as finely tuned as it may someday be), tune into your senses and start wandering.

You may end up in unexpected places, having unexpected experiences.

And, you just might find yourself delighted by how this simple exercise can open up new possibilities in other areas of your life.

Comment Magic:

Today, I’d love to hear your experiences with Wandering.

Or, perhaps tales of times when you have magically been in exactly the right place at the right time.

Another option: exercises you  use to get you to that calm, centered place where you can hear your body loud enough to wander. Of course, just saying ‘hi’ is always appreciated. :)

I was reading Kylie’s blog the other day. This particular line caught my eye:

“Sink into comfort. See how much you can stand.”

I was nodding as I was reading thinking, “Wow. that’s so true and that’s something I want to write about. “

Then I re-read it and realized it actually said ‘Sink into DIScomfort…”

Giggling at my inability to read simple words, I was struck by how true both are… and realized this is a topic long overdue for my blog.

Sinking into DIScomfort

When we are in pain, a very normal, natural reaction is to disconnect from the pain so that we don’t have to deal with it.

Therefore, we talk about sinking into discomfort quite a lot here.

We talk about ways to meet discomfort, how to allow it to be there, how to hold it and listen to it.

We practice techniques (like Owl Eyes) that make it easier to open to the discomfort versus running from it, denying it, or disconnecting from it.

But… what about sinking into Comfort?

Should be simple, right? Comfort feels good… right?

And yet, I’ve noticed this sneaky, insidious thing about comfort.

I’ve noticed how much discomfort begins to build when I actually begin to feel comfort or wellbeing to a greater extent than before.

It appears I’ve learned to tolerate a certain level of comfort in my daily life. When that level is increased beyond the norm, the comfort eventually becomes uncomfortable.

It’s as if the greater the level of comfort I’m experiencing in my life, the more likely I am to somehow sabotage it especially if the level of comfort is greater than what I normally experience on a day-to-day basis.

Perhaps an example would be helpful.

Let’s take a peak into my intimate relationship.

Inevitably, when things are going really well and we are feeling super close, one of us eventually freaks out.

It’s generally not conscious. Everything is great and then, just like that, we are fighting over something incredibly silly and non-important (in the larger perspective).

The fight will drive this wedge between us and bring us back down closer to our normal pattern of relating that isn’t quite so deep.

Why?

Speaking for myself, I can’t tolerate the increased comfort.

I become terrified that it won’t last and start wondering (mostly unconsciously) if I can trust it, when/if it’s going to all come crashing down, and if it’s really OK for me to feel this way with him.

Eventually, I get outrageously upset over something small.

There is a blow-up and things return to a more ‘normal’ level of interaction and closeness. Our comfort baseline is restored.

The more I watch this pattern, the more I become aware of the fears and anxieties as they surface.

Then, I am able to sink into the discomfort of feeling increased comfort… which opens the possibility for even more comfort to enter into my life and relationship.

I see a similar pattern when working with clients.

Generally, when someone first comes to see me it is because there is some issue they want help with – a pattern of pain or anxiety that is interfering with their lives.

At some point in our work together, that issue resolves.

And then, all these deeply held other fears and anxieties begin to surface.

What if the pain comes back? What does it mean to feel good? How can I maintain this sense of wellbeing? I don’t want to lose it! Why am I so anxious and afraid now that things are going so well? What’s wrong with me?

These aren’t little fears.

These are deep, core terrors just as powerful as the original pain or anxiety that brought them to work with me.

Only now, my clients are in a place of greater overall wellbeing and have more resources available to help them meet the discomfort.

The practice of consciously sinking into comfort.

Consciously sinking into comfort allows us to become aware of these fears and doubts as they begin to surface.

We can meet them as they arise and continue to sink deeper into both the comfort and the discomfort simultaneously.

The more we can tolerate comfort (sink into it) the more we will be able to appreciate and honor the times in our lives where things are flowing and filled with wellbeing.

And, over time, we learn to tolerate greater and greater amounts of comfort.

Life begins to be a bit more balanced.

Times of increased comfort become stages for growth and learning about oneself. One no longer has to sabotage comfort. Growth through comfort becomes a possibility.

Now, as I’m writing this piece, I’m wondering if learning to sink into the discomfort of comfort, of learning to tolerate increased levels of comfort, might just be ‘how’ one grows through joy rather than pain. Interesting!

Comment Magic:

It’s rather an odd thing – to be talking about comfort as something one must learn to tolerate.

What are your thoughts? Have you experienced similar moments when comfort becomes uncomfortable? How do you meet the discomfort of increased comfort? How much comfort can you stand? ;)

I’ve noticed a theme with a few of my clients lately – a theme of being afraid to really feel whatever is going on for them.

The actual feelings and the situations that are bringing them up are widely varied.

The commonality lies in the fear that if they truly feel the feelings, they will be overwhelmed by them, swept away by them, and end up wallowing in them for endless days.

The wallowing piece has got me thinking about bison.

Specifically, how bison create huge wallows – large indentations in the earth where they roll and cavort on their backs in the dust.

The purpose of wallowing for the bison is to build up a layer of dust (or mud) to protect against insects.

*photo courtesy of H. Schuster

Bison don’t *stay* in the wallow, however.

They wallow. Then they leave and go on with their lives. And then, when the dust wears off and the insects are once again biting, they return to wallow again.

The purpose of wallowing for us humans.

For us humans, the wallow allows us to release the emotions that build up and keep us from being fully present.

When our emotions are fully felt, we no longer have to keep a part of ourselves walled off. But…

…wallowing is hard.

Especially in a culture where the very word ‘wallow’ is associated with self-pity and self-indulgence.

And yet, within the word itself is hidden another word:

Allow.

That’s what it is really all about, giving ourselves permission to feel whatever it is that we are feeling. Allowing those feelings to come through.

It’s very normal and natural to be afraid of wallowing.

To be afraid that if you allow some of the emotions to come through, they will:

1. all come through at once and overwhelm you, or
2. get stuck and there you’ll be, wallowing, forever.

With emotions that run particularly deep and that are particularly painful, it’s understandable to not want to go there.

If you don’t go there, however, the emotions come out indirectly anyway – through irritability, pain, fatigue, constantly feeling stressed, etc.

That’s why it is important to have a wallow to wallow in.

Not just any wallow. Your wallow. A place that feels safe where you can let your emotions flow.

You come and go. It stays. It is there for you… when you need it.

When you need it, it holds you.

Creating your own wallow.

The bison don’t just stumble upon a pre-created indentation in the ground. No. They dig it out with their hooves. And then, they wallow.

We can do that too. We can create a safe, private place where we can go when we feel the insects of difficult emotions biting at us.

Perhaps it’s just closing the door to the bedroom. Perhaps it’s having a favorite tree or plant to talk too. Maybe it’s watching that one movie that always brings us to tears.

We too can wallow.

Once we are done, we too, like the bison, can leave the wallow and return to our daily lives knowing that when we need it again, when difficult emotions are again biting, we can return. And wallow once more.

Comment Magic:

I strongly endorse the use of wallows. I have a wallow I go to nearly every day – for maintenance, if you will. :)

Visiting it regularly keeps the difficult emotions from building up to the point where they begin to wreck havoc on my daily life. When I leave, I feel cleansed, more fully myself, and better equipped to face the rest of my day. It feels, somehow, both protective and preventative to me.

What about you? Do you have a wallow? If not, how might having a place to go to when you feel difficult emotions eating at you be useful? If you do, what form does yours take? :)

A friend recently stumped me with what is possibly the most fascinating question in the world:

“What captivated you when you were 9? What was it that you spent every spare minute of your unstructured time doing?”

The concept behind the question is that that thing we did with our free time when we were approximately 9 has a lot to tell us about our life purpose. So, let’s jump in, shall we?

When I was 9 I:

• Read constantly. There was a period of time when my mother limited me to reading two books a day. I stretched that limit through starting one book the night before, finishing it plus a second and reading most of a third the next day. Insane.
• When I wasn’t reading, I was outside, running around the farm, creating imaginary worlds and embarking on incredibly detailed and magical adventures with my brother.

In short, I was either inside reading about the adventures of others or I was outside, creating my own.

My grandfather’s ranch:

My mother’s parents lived about a 4-hour drive from us, down in Oklahoma. We would visit several times a year – events that were always greatly anticipated.

My grandparents lived in Paradise – a cattle ranch with acres and acres of open pasture complete with a creek running directly through the middle of it.

The creek was small by normal creek standards and yet it had cut its way deep into the earth forming a mini canyon. Likely only 20 or so feet deep, to my 8 or 9 year old eyes, this canyon was vast and infinitely exciting. And the creek itself  – oh my! The adventures that awaited!

We spent entire days out just roaming about – being explorers of the vast unknown.

Every day led to new delights, new adventures, and new territories to explore.

One year, much to our delight, we discovered a tree that had fallen across the creek and, for the first time ever, we were able to cross the rushing water and begin to explore the uncharted territories of the other side. The excitement! It could not be contained.

Of course, there were hazards to be aware of…

…snakes lurking behind the occasional fallen tree limb, deep gopher holes that could easily twist or break an ankle, the creek itself and, of course, the bulls.

None of that deterred us in any way. We had roles to play, adventures awaiting, new land to explore.

Only hunger would eventually pull us away from our explorations and back to the Land of the Adults.

Looking back, I can see how much I learned from those adventures.

How much those moment have influenced my life now.

Then, we were fully engaged in the moment, always venturing just a little further into the unknown. Stretching our boundaries, exploring our limitations. And yet, we had support. We knew our parents weren’t that far away.

Plus, we had each other. We were each others’ best Allies.

What did we learn?

We learned to:

• take calculated risks: for instance, timing our crossing of the bull pen – scary!
• know where we were in relation to grandpa’s house at all times;
• support each other. There was this complete, though unstated, understanding that we had each others’ back if anything bad happened.
• be a part of a team and collaborate/plan our route together.
• engage and trust our senses – our eyes, our ears, our felt-sense (I recall several times when we changed direction simply because the direction we were going had a ‘bad’ feel).
• be in the moment. We never embarked on our mission with some outcome in mind. We just couldn’t wait to get out there so we could discover what was out there.

Basically, we learned some pretty impressive life skills.

Of course, back then, we didn’t think of it as learning life-skills – we were just kids out in my grandpa’s pasture, which happened to have this amazing creek running through it, exploring the day away.

Looking back, I feel this sense of nostalgia.

I felt so alive and engaged as we explored the creek and surrounding pasture-land.

I long for that sense of engagement, of curiosity, of risk-taking, of being outside for hours/days at a time!, to be more present now, in my daily life.

I can see how these experiences have so much to offer me now.

That sense of adventure, of exploration, is something that I consistently bring into my work with clients.

And, this sense of adventure, of fully engaging with my surroundings, is something I’m slowly re-discovering more and more in my personal life as well.

Comment Magic:

What were your passions when you were 9? Was there some thing or activity that you turned to the moment you had a moment free from your parents and other obligations? If so, do tell!

Portlanders! A new 4-week Shiva Nata series is beginning on May 10^th. We will be using Shiva Nata to help us get out of our heads and into our senses. I’m super excited about this series as it combines two of my favorites things: Senses and Shiva Nata. Check it out here.

Note: I initially shared a version of following post on my About Page. I removed it a short while later but am now feeling called to share it here.

My ongoing struggle with headaches is still really difficult for me to talk about. I hope that through sharing a bit of my story here, those of you who also experience chronic pain will feel a little less alone.

Pain and I? We go waaaay back.

Once, I tried to estimate the number of days I’ve lost to pain.

You know, truly lost, like lying in bed, incapacitated, lost.

And, the days numbered years. Thinking about that even now fills me with this sense of heaviness, frustration, dread, and sadness.

Having a headache is not ok.

Or, that’s what I believed for a very long time.

That, somehow, having headaches, especially headaches that were so totally out of my control, that left me helpless and hopeless and utterly depressed and unable to function, were somehow a reflection on my character.

That somehow, I was weak or fundamentally flawed.

So, I set out to prove otherwise.

In high school, violent nausea would overcome me in basketball practice. I would dash for the locker room, puke, pause a moment until the shaking and gasping for breath would pass and then return to practice. Never mind that I could barely see the ball or the other players.

In college, believe me, a simple migraine wasn’t going to stop me from going out with friends. If my speech was slurred, well, maybe it could be blamed on the beer.

And, class? I remember shaking and sweating, head pounding, words swimming as I took yet another exam under the influence of extreme pain.

Work followed the same pattern.

I’ve never worked a job that offered health benefits or sick-leave.

If I didn’t work, I wasn’t paid. So, I worked.

After I’d done all that I had to do for the day, then, and only then, would I return to my darkened room and allow myself to be consumed by pain and nausea.

After years of fighting, denying, and repressing the pain, something else started to happen.

All this fear and dread began to creep in.

Yeah, I would still pretend the migraine wasn’t there until it reached a point where I simply couldn’t ignore it and was forced to give in.

But, this other thing began to happen as well.

This insidious, malignant thing.

This thing that whispered thoughts of:

‘What’s the point of doing what you love, of listening to your heart, of dreaming, of even being yourself if it can all be stopped cold by a headache.

And, you will be stopped. The migraine will come.”

I believed those whispers.

So, for a few more years, I essentially stopped.

I did just enough to get by. I tried this, I tried that. Nothing really worked. The headaches continued. Time slipped by.

A change in perspective slowly emerges.

Fortunately, at some point during the ‘just getting by’ years, I discovered and began to study Ortho-Bionomy, the style of bodywork that forms the foundation for my work.

I started applying its principle of being kind and gentle with pain to myself and to my clients. (It was much easier with my clients.)

And, I started listening to my body.

I began to notice and to pay attention to the symptoms that signaled a headache was coming.

With practice, I began to notice the symptoms of a headache earlier and earlier, sometimes even before the headaches reached the point of no return.

And, sometimes, I could even do some self-care and somehow, miraculously, not get a headache.

On occasion, even, I was able to ask for help, to let another see me helpless and vulnerable…. although, honestly, I didn’t believe anyone could help me or relieve the pain.

Which brings us to today, the present.

I still get headaches. I still have days when all I can do is curl up in bed and wait for it to be over.

I still experience the day after when feelings of depression, resentment, and hopelessness replace the physical pain.

These days, however, are fewer. And, when they do occur, I am often able to just let myself have a headache without adding the additional pain of self-hatred and self-condemnation.

The biggest difference is:  I’m no longer alone.

I now have Allies, both internal and external, to turn to when the headaches descend.

Allies who often can relieve the pain when it is beyond what I can handle on my own. Allies who, if they can’t relieve the pain, can support and hold me in the pain.

And, somehow, having Allies makes all the difference in the world.

Comment Magic:

Chronic pain is rough. I just lost yesterday to a migraine and awoke today feeling utterly helpless and hopeless.

And yet, I know these feelings, like the migraine itself, will pass.

They are simply another part of the pattern.  A pattern that has already changed considerably and is continuing to shift as I learn more about how to meet myself and how to ask for help.

There is a even a part of me that feels a certain sense of gratitude for these headaches.

I wouldn’t be here, doing this work, without my history of headaches. I wouldn’t know how to meet your pain without having such intimate experience with pain myself.

So, for today, if you feel inclined to leave a comment, I’d love to hear how you meet pain (whether physical or emotional). What works for you? Who or what are your Allies?

And, as always, just your ‘hello’ is adored as well.

It’s that time again – the time of year when light and dark are balanced – for a moment at least.

For me this means it is time to review my past Seasonal (90-Day) Intents and set new ones for the next season – Spring!

It’s kind of a 90-Day To-Do list – except that once it’s written, I don’t look at it again. Until the next turn of season, that is.

It’s a practice of mindfully writing out things that I would like to accomplish, qualities I’d like to play with, and my commitments to self-care for the next 90 days.

Today is the day to review past Intents and to set new Intents.

I’m going to share my process here. Want to play with me?

First, decide if you want to follow this process for your business/work life or for your personal life (or both).

Note: I tend to set separate Intents for both business and personal. In truth, they often mirror each other since my personal life and my work-life are so intertwined.

Now, quickly brainstorm as many things you’d like to accomplish project-wise (tangible stuff) over the next 90 days.

Here are a few of mine: Business

• Re-Launch my Owl Eyes E-Course – with more options and a lot more Owl Eyes goodness.
• Teach a 1-Day Sensing (and Play) workshop at Oxbow Park.
• Take at least one Shiva-Nata Class from a new instructor.

Personal

• Re-start my 15-mile/week walking plan.
• Plan something really fun for my boyfriend’s birthday.
• 2-3 movement classes per week (xinyi, yoga, pilates…)

Alright, that’s the tangible stuff.

Ok, let’s move on to the qualities we want more of over the next 90 Days.

Throughout Spring, I want to be noticing and interacting with the qualities of:

• ease, play, sweetness, and courage (in my personal life).
• Also: abundance, gratitude, trust and discernment (in my business life).

What about you?

Next, the commitments:

These are the practices and mindsets I’m committing to in order to support the projects and qualities I want to see more of this Spring:

• to focus on my own process and self-care (vs getting caught up in the drama and processes of other’s which continues, at times, to be the hardest thing in the world).
• a daily practice of invoking the qualities and guidance that will support me throughout my day.
• to ask for help daily combined with the discerning surrender of things outside my control or expertise to those who are better equipped. Also: expressing gratitude more for all the support and love that is present in my life.
• to be open to and notice new possibilities and opportunities.
• a willingness to be surprised and to let go of expectations. Yikes!
• spending at least a part of one day a week outside, preferably outside the city.

The final step: hiding it away until the next turn of season, in this case, the Summer Solstice.

Seriously. I don’t look at my list of Intents again until the full 90 days is up.

When the next turn of season arrives, I do review my previous Intents.

It’s generally quite fascinating because I’ve usually totally forgotten what I’d set as Intents 90 days previously.

And, it’s even more fascinating to note how many of the my Intents were actually realized (or, no longer seem important).

This practice is a way of marking time and checking in with myself.

This is where I was 90 days ago. This is what I thought I wanted.

Where am I now? Have things changed? How have they changed?

Did any of these things happen? If so, great. If not, do I want to add them to the next 90 day Intents or are they no longer aligned with my life?

Reviewing my Intents is not at all about beating myself up if something didn’t happen like I thought it should.

Rather, it’s a practice of noting what did happen and checking in to see if the things that didn’t are still important enough to add to the next 90 days.

In short, when I’m reviewing the Intents from the past 90 days, I quickly jot down notes next to each item. It’s as simple as ‘yep,’ ‘nope,’ or ‘this is what happened instead.’

And, it’s totally fascinating to see how some things that didn’t happen as I thought they should actually did happen in a more awesome way than I could ever have imagined.

The super-secret addition to my Spring Intents:

Last time I spoke about wanting to learn to Fail Magnificently. This Spring, I’m adding that to my commitments.

I’ve added a couple of secret (not written here) Intents for myself that feel waaaay beyond my present abilities… just to see what happens.

I want to find out what the process of approaching things from a perspective of failing magnificently brings up in me.

It might be an interesting 90 Days. :)

Comment Magic:

How do you mark time? Do you have a seasonal (or monthly perhaps) ritual to check in with yourself and to make notes of what you’d like to see in your life? If so, I’d love to hear about it.

Or, if you did this process with me, what was your experience?

As always, just saying Hi is adored as well.

Today, I want to introduce a concept that is so big, so awesome, so potentially transformational, that I’m practically paralyzed just thinking about it.

You see, I don’t have the words to convey such an important concept.

No matter how I turn it around in my mind, my words fall short. I fail.

Yet, here I am, about to spew the secret of all secrets, the secret that can change everything… anyway.

Because if I don’t try, I just fail.

If I do attempt to talk about this concept as clearly and simply as I possibly can, then there is the chance that I might fail magnificently.

There it is. That is the secret.

To know without doubt that failure will be the outcome. And then, to do it anyway and to fail as magnificently as possible in the process.

Perhaps a bit of back-story would be helpful.

Last spring, I attended a workshop-ceremony with Martin Prechtel, a Mayan shaman. Over the course of a weekend he wove together legends, myths, nature, personal stories and the present reality into this brilliant tapestry of interconnection.

It was there that I first heard about failing magnificently.

You see, in the Mayan worldview, there is nothing that humans can do, ever, that can begin to rival what already is – the interconnection, beauty, wonder, abundance and sacredness of (and in) nature. Or, as Martin describes it, the Holy in Nature.

From this perspective, anything we attempt is going to fall short. There is no such thing as success. There can only be failure.

Instead of being depressed by the thought that nothing will ever be good enough and it is impossible to succeed at anything, indigenous Mayans learn to fail magnificently.

To do whatever they are doing with as much creativity, beauty, grace, and skill as possible so that they can fail as magnificently as possible.

Through failing with as much magnificence as is humanly possible, the Holy in Nature is fed and the beneficial relationship between humans and nature is honored and maintained.

Now, whether or not you embrace this particular worldview matters not at all.

What does matter is the concept itself… which I’ll get back to in a second.

Personally, I’m terrified of failing.

There have been countless times that I simply haven’t done things (even things, especially things, that had a great deal of meaning to me) because I was afraid of

1. failing miserably, or
2. just barely succeeding and it feeling like a failure.

Occasionally, I’ve just made a half-assed attempt so that I could have a reason for failing. “Yeah, it didn’t happen but I didn’t put much into it. I could’ve tried a lot harder.” (Sound familiar?)

Further, there have been other times when my vision of how success should look has been so narrow that what others might deem a success, I’ve seen as a failure.

In short, fear of failure has often kept me from fully engaging, from taking risks, from really pursuing things of deep personal meaning.

Magnificent Failure takes Fear of Failure completely out of the picture.

Magnificent Failing allows us to:

• Relax – if you know you are going to fail no matter what, there is no pressure (to succeed, to meet some goal, to win).
• Feel safe – there is nothing to fear if the outcome is already determined.
• Take more risks and have more adventures along the way.
• Be creative, think outside the box. If there is no One Way that success (or failure) has to look, the options for how to fail magnificently are only limited by our imagination.
• Go for the long shot. Allows the ‘Well, it’s a long shot but we might as well go for it” mentality to flourish.
• Be a hero! Think of all the great moments when the hero overcomes all odds to save the day (or the girl). Of course, even saving the girl would be a failure under this framework, but, Oh! What a Magnificent Failure!

Magnificent Failure asks us to:

• Engage more in the process, in the journey, in the In-Between.
• Take risks and be magnificently creative.
• Engage more of ourselves – our dreams, our gifts, our innate skills and talents in beautiful and creative ways.
• Abandon our thoughts of what success means and how it should look and to engage fully in the process itself.
• Shift our focus away from ourselves/success and towards how everything we do can contribute in a beautiful and meaningful way to our planet, to our community, to the Holy in Nature.

I’ll end with words of blessing and thanksgiving –

Words that were repeated throughout the entire weekend – words that still echo through my mind and body. I wish you:

All Blessings,

Long Life,

Honey in the Heart,

No Misfortune.

13 Thank Yous.

Comment Magic

This concept is HUGE. And, it’s one that I want to embody.

I want to begin to give myself permission to take more risks, to put all of me into the things I love, and to know that it is ok to fail.

That, in fact, failure is the only option. And, that it’s safe to fully engage because no matter the outcome, I know my personal goal is to fail magnificently.

Right now, this concept is just barely, barely beginning to sink into my body. I’d love to hear encouragement, your stories of magnificent failure, and/or how this concept might affect your life if you were to play with it.

And, as always, just saying hi is adored as well. :)

Also: Portlanders! Want to practice the art of Magnificent F(l)ailure? Join me for an Introduction to Shiva Nata workshop this Sunday.

Flow.

That magical quality that allows everything to happen with such ease and grace when present.

That magical quality that leads to all sorts of unpleasantness and potential embarrassment when absent.

Flow. Something I want to experience more of in my life. And, something I’ve been intentionally focusing on for the past 2 weeks as part of my 40 Day Challenge Exploration.

I have things to say about flow.

Let’s get started. :)

I’m not very good at flowing.

Sidenote: I actually typed ‘glowing’ which I thought was hilarious. Because, no, I’m not that good at that either. Anyway…

I have moments. Moments when everything just clicks and suddenly, there I am, flowing along with ease and grace.

However, it just takes an instant of recognition (hey, look, things are happening really easily right now!) for me to totally lose touch with that flow. It’s as if Awareness of Flow = Goodbye Flow.

I’m much better at just jumping from Point A to Point B with little awareness of what happens in between.

Need an example? I’ll give you a couple.

(a) In my Shiva Nata practice, I feel most comfortable when I know exactly where my hand is supposed to go next.

I’m practically incapable of leaving one hand position before my brain has figured out where the next position is.

Why? Because then I might look like an idiot – just madly flailing about. Which is ironic since that is kind of the whole point of the practice.

(b) In my life, especially when something challenging has came up (perhaps a conflict between me and my boyfriend), I’m super, super, super uncomfortable just being in the flow. I want the conflict resolved. NOW.

I desperately want to get from Point A (the beginning of the conflict) to Point B (having the conflict resolved and things feeling good again) and will do whatever possible to get there the quickest.

Perhaps needless to say, this inability to allow things to flow, this terror of being in the in-between, doesn’t seem to help the situation. Crazy, I know. *shakes head*

There seems to be 2 levels to this fear for me.

The first level involves being afraid to move from one thing until I know exactly where I’m going. When I inquire into what lies underneath this fear, I find things like:

• that fear of being in between, in the unknown,
• of not knowing what’s best for me,
• of getting lost,
• of looking stupid and being mocked,
• of not appearing focused, goal-oriented and purposeful,
• of losing my center, my sense of self,
• of looking disorganized, flaky, uncertain, and…
• the need to be in control in order to feel safe.

The second level is a bit more insidious. This level is about transitions.

For instance, I just received notice that the business I rent my office space from is downsizing to a home office. This means I need to move my office by March 15.

It feels like a good and necessary change.

And yet, right now, I have absolutely no idea what I want out of my next space. I’m in the transition, in the In-Between, without a clue of where I might end up.

Being in the In-Between can be pretty scary.

In my Shiva Nata practice, I’ve noticed all the sensations of discomfort (tension in my stomach, constriction in my breathing…) that arise when I do leave one hand position before knowing the next. How horribly disconcerting it feels to just have my arm floating In-Between until I figure out the next position.

When I actually take the time to tune in, I notice the same discomfort when I think about being in my current transition.

The same is true with conflict with my boyfriend. It’s the not knowing (not trusting?) how Point B will look if I just allow things to rest in the In-Between.

I want the conflict resolved right now so that I know whether we are ok or not. The In-Between terrifies me.

And yet, it’s in the In-Between where all the magic happens.

Or, so I’m slowly learning.

It’s in the In-Between (without a set destination) where an unexpected option or solution suddenly pops up. A solution that is perfectly aligned with my needs, my values, and the qualities I want to cultivate in my life.

It’s in the In-Between where flow becomes a possibility.

Without the In-Between, there is no flow.

Without spending time In-Between, all there is is control.

It’s the In-Between where we have the opportunity to practice letting go, trusting the unknown and surrendering to flow – the flow of life, the flow of innate intelligence that surrounds us, the flow of possibility.

And, here’s the best part.

There is no need to jump into the In-Between in real life.

Everything can be experienced and experimented with through mindful movement.

Playing with the transitions between hand positions in Shiva Nata is showing me the way – illuminating the possibility of a different, more in-flow, approach to life.

What about you?

Do you practice yoga (any style)? Or internal martial arts (tai chi, chi gong, etc)?

If so, the next time you are engaging in your practice, take a moment and place more of your awareness on the transitions between movements versus the actual stances or postures themselves. What do you notice?

Even activities like driving or daily chores can become a practice in noticing flow.

Where is your focus? On the destination or the drive? On finishing the chore or the chore itself?

What happens in the space between various chores?

In short, opportunities for practice are limitless.

Becoming more mindful of the transitions, of the In-Betweens, opens a whole new world of self-understanding and might even lead to increased flow in everyday life.

Or, so I’m discovering. :)