Don't Let The Weight Fold You

“Don’t let the weight fold you.”

…my trainer said as I stepped out of the rack with 177.5 lbs on my back.

It’s not the heaviest I’ve squatted since getting back to barbell lifting, but we are definitely tickling the ceiling of my last personal record.

In the previous meetings of this weight, we talked about “fighting the fold”…..the tendency my upper body has to lose its strong position under the bar when the weight is really heavy as I try to lift up and out of the squat driving with my hips.

Fight the fold isn’t a new cue for me, but the way my coach worded it the other day resonated with a zing into my awareness.

DON’T LET THE WEIGHT FOLD YOU.

Often when I’m working with bodies in breathwork, craniosacral therapy, or energy healing sessions, something in the body and energy lights up for me. It’s like a part of the body or energy gets highlighted with a highlighter or draws me in like a magnet. It calls my attention, so I listen and follow, even if I don’t know exactly why until later.

That’s what this pre-lift pep-talk felt like for me! The impact of the words landed with a full body YEEESSSSS and a nudge to “pay attention.” Listen and follow.

So as I pondered why those words struck me differently that day while I rested between sets, I realized how the insight was meant for not only the moment at hand as I stood with that heaviness on my back, but for the moment I’m in (and WE are in) with life itself.

DON’T LET THE WEIGHT FOLD YOU.

Little did my trainer know that the night before I had laid down in my basement to do breathwork to one of my own playlists and, two breaths in, I cried the whole time.

I haven’t breathed for myself in awhile, so there was a lot to be released and the cleanse was much needed.

And so the contrast that next day of the strength and steady determination with weight lifting to the soft and messy tenderness of somatic healing practice was a great reminder of the full spectrum of being human.

We need both the strength and the softness.
We get to be both strong and tender (and everything in between).

Life and the world feels intense right now.
Maybe for you too?

If the weight feels heavy on your shoulders, don’t let it fold you.

Feel it.
Resist the hardening of your heart.
Keep showing up.
And remember we’ve got the coaches and space holders and friends and community and loved ones to help us through the discomfort.
That’s why we have spotters when we’re lifting heavy shit, yeah?

We are strong (and soft) enough for this.
Together.

PS: I crushed three sets of those squats! :)

Signs You Need Water*

*water, rest, food, sunshine, solitude, community, laughter, pet snuggles, a hot shower, a good cry, full-body yells, dance parties, quiet space, fill-in-the-blank

Since moving home from New York several years ago, i’ve slowly added more plant babies to my home here in Minnesota. Because I don’t quite have my Grandma Dorothy’s green thumb, I’ve leaned more into the hearty babies. You know, the ZZ plants and snake plants who don’t mind if I only water them once a week or so.

Awhile ago I got this cutie pie in the photo above for my healing space, but I loved it so much and it was doing so well in our dining room before I brought it to the space, I decided to keep it at home.

And one of the things I love about it most is how the leaves start to droop when it’s needing some TLC. A little sign that she needs water.

Which, of course, got me musing!!

AM I PAYING ATTENTION TO THE SIGNS THAT I NEED WATER?

It reminded me of the post I’ve seen where it said something like, “Drink water and get sunshine. Remember, you’re basically a house plant with complicated emotions.

Complicated emotions would be accurate and it’s easy to forget about those simple needs that are so life-giving (like water and sunshine) when schedules are full and life is busy. Have I been giving myself enough rest? Enough food? Time with my people? A break from screens? Time to daydream?

When I start to feel “full” emotionally with tears at the back of my eyes, do I give myself the space to do some breathwork? When my hips get tight, do I get out of my chair, take a walk, or stretch? When I feel overworked and stretched thin, do I give myself time to sleep in and play? When I start to feel tired, do I keep pushing through or do I do a body scan to see if I’m hungry, dehydrated, or need a few minutes of a mental break?

*

*

So, my friend, today on the official start to SPRING in the northern hemisphere - the season of planting seeds and new beginnings - what are the signs you need water?

What are the little clues from your body that you need some TLC? What are the subtle cues from your heart and your spirit that you need care?

Are there touchstones that help you pinpoint when it’s time to stop and check-in with yourself before you are pulled too far off center?

What can you do for yourself for nourishment and nurturing? Where can you ask for support to help your drooping leaves stretch back up towards the sky?

If possible, it’s important to answer those calls when they are small and subtle. The body will get louder and your Spirit will get more insistent until you care for your sweet self, so let’s put ourselves closer to the top of our list, yes?

You’re worth it. I’m worth it. And our world needs us to be showing up as our fullest selves.

happy spring!

Litmus Test For Living

Before we get too far away from 2023, I’d like to pay tribute to one of my theatre professors who passed away back in May.

Even though I hadn’t seen her in years, I knew Teresa was struggling with cancer and I happened to run into her in one of the most kismet of ways a year ago in February of 2023.

I was heading into Williams Arena at the University of Minnesota for a men’s basketball game with my man. Our usual door that we always go in because of its closeness to the ramp we park in happened to be locked that day and we were rerouted to the front doors of the stadium. Right as we were walking past an Uber that had pulled over by the sidewalk, out of the car pops Teresa and her husband going to the game too.

A handful of minutes either way and I would’ve totally missed her. Instead, we got to chat and laugh briefly while we waited in line to show our tickets (making Teresa laugh was always the best because she had a GREAT sense of humor) and we parted ways with the promise of a coffee date sometime soon.
*

*

Then on a Monday in May, I was doing my after-dinner evening walk with our puppy Hazel and that magical moment of meeting on that February afternoon popped into my head out of the blue. I thought about how wild it was that we ran into each other in such an unlikely place and time.

Two days later, I received a text saying she had passed early that week. It was like she was popping into my awareness right before she headed for the stars. I’m happy my last memory of her was one where she had that twinkle in her eye and a joy in her step. She had looked good!

*

*

Teresa was one of my college theatre professors at St. Kate’s, a university located in MN where I graduated with degrees in theatre and theology. She mostly taught acting during my time there and her classes were my favorite.

One of my best memories of her was when a friend and I were so amped up and passionate about an acting method we’d read about in a book that we asked Teresa if she’d meet with us to do an “independent study”. She said yes! We’d meet once a week, early in the morning before classes would start, and go through the exercises in the book. We certainly didn’t get credit for it because it was “off the books”, so I’m pretty sure Teresa didn’t get paid for her time as she was a part time adjunct professor at that point. She was just doing it because we loved it and she loved it.

And that’s one of the things I came to realize from all the people who spoke at her celebration of life.

Teresa loved what she did.

My path crossed with hers early on in her tenure at St. Kate’s and unfortunately the theatre department there no longer exists. But just from everyone’s stories, especially from the students and staff who came after me, Teresa fought hard for the arts. She was always helping people see the connection between acting/storytelling/theatre/art and LIFE. She brought her love of acting into any professional job she had, even coaching leadership at Target. The other fun thing to learn about her was how she took her role as a mom just as seriously and passionately.

She loved what she did.

*

*

Since her celebration, I’ve often found myself thinking about her and reflecting on her life well-lived and well-loved. When I think back to my ferocious passion for acting and theatre… and when I consider how short this one lifetime is… it inspires me to use this barometer as a litmus test for living:

Do I love what I’m doing?

And how can I do more of what I love?

Now, life is certainly about doing things that make us uncomfortable and is full of things we don’t love. Like, I don’t love paying taxes (especially when they fund war materials and not universal healthcare!), going to the doctor, cleaning the toilet, paying my student loans from said liberal arts degree. There’s also certain privileges that come from being white, straight, and living in a two-income household with fur kids who don’t need astronomically priced childcare.

Part of being human is to chop wood and carry water. Some of us might have more flexibility with our time than others.

But of the time I DO have control of… say, my free time: am I doing what I love? Are there other ways of spending my time that are more LIFE-filling?

It’s easy to get caught in the rut or the scroll or the routine or “this is what I’ve always done” or “this is what I’m expected to do”.

So as we move through this waning moon time, let’s take time to look at where we put the power of our attention and where we spend our energy. The waning moon cycle is great for noticing where we might be ready to release and make space.

What tiny changes can we make so we can find more moments to fill with the things we love? When the world is on fire, how can we continue to chase joy so we have the endurance to stand up for humanity?

*

*

A big heartfelt thank you to Teresa. For the time spent those many years ago in the classroom and the rehearsal room and the stage. Thank you for reminding me to never stop going after and enjoying the things that I love. Whenever you want to do that coffee date from the stars, I’ll be there!

One Small Thing

It’s been a long while since I published a piece of writing. I’ve had a few blog articles started, but then something else tragic happens in the world and I turn my attention to listening to the activists (and, admittedly, to too much doomscrolling) and find it hard to carry on with business as usual. But to honor my favorite astrological season, Sagittarius season, I thought I’d pop in to say hi and share what I’ve been musing about lately before we officially move into winter.

.
There is a lot of grief in the collective right now. Even just in the last couple of weeks, when I pop on my social feeds, I see tribute posts for moms, mother-in-laws, a husband, dear friends, beloved furry family who have died. We see footage of children and members of our human family in Gaza who are being killed. Heck, even the dead ash tree outside my office window in our neighbor’s front yard got cut down the other day and it felt only fitting for the time we are in.

There is loss and heartache in the microcosm of our personal lives. And there’s a loss and destruction in the macrocosm of the world and our planet.

It’s a lot to hold and be witness to! I just read a post yesterday from Portia Richardson, a Minneapolis based writer and healer, “it takes a fraction of a second to somatically register threat. And about 15 seconds, at least, to register connection. Count to 15 - to get a sense of how long that actually is…” So it takes very little time for our nervous systems to take a hit, while it takes more effort to feel grounded and resourced. In order to not burn out in hard moments like these, finding the connection is essential.

I appreciated a post awhile back by Nora McInerny, an author and creator who writes about grief, where she raised money just in her Instagram stories with her Instagram community for a mom who was having trouble finding housing for her and her girls. She said, When things feel too big, do something small.”

I’ve been trying to keep that in my mind and heart lately.

When it feels helpless, do one small thing.
When the world feels wild, do one small act of kindness.
When it all feels too much, feel just my feet against the floor for a moment.

So that is my wish for us! Simple, sweet, small.
As we move into the last couple weeks of the year, and as we approach the start of the winter season with the solstice on Thursday, may we find one small thing in each moment that we can show up for to move us closer to connection.

.

And, to continue with my women writer muses in this post, Rachel Cargle shared the other day about lighting a candle for all of the beings who aren’t here this holiday season and she invited folks to put their loved ones’ name in the comments. Reading through the long list made me realize how not alone we are in missing and loving important people who are now among the stars.
If you are experiencing recent heartbreak from losing a loved one or noticing how the grief flows this time of year for someone who’s been gone a short time or a long while, I’ll be lighting a candle for you and yours.