The Humming Of My Cells

On Friday, as I was entering into the dog park, I noticed that the leaves on the trees were suddenly bigger, more expansive, greener, more stretched open wide than they had been just the week before. Spring has been slow to come in Minnesota and the few pockets of warmth that we’d have here and there would make my cells hum with life as I soaked in the sun in between all the stretches of grey and rainy days in April.

I’ve been listening to the We Can Do Hard Things podcast a lot lately and I’m loving the inspiration I get from the conversations they have with really cool people. Recently I was listening to the episode where Susan Cain talked about being melancholy and how society isn’t orientated for folks who feel sad. I’m paraphrasing here, but the idea being that we need to reclaim the wisdom in sadness. Rather than feeling that something is wrong with us because we don’t feel happy, we have an opportunity to explore the connection and bittersweet-ness we feel because we care deeply about something. How we might get tears in our eyes watching something that brings us joy. How we might honor our longing as a strength rather than a weakness. It’s something I’ve been mulling over and musing on as I prepare for virtual breathwork group this month.

The conversation reminded me of the term “griefwalker” by Stephen Jenkinson, who teaches about “how death empowers us to live and that we must know grief well in order to appreciate our own lives”. While I’m someone who is very easy to laugh and very in touch with my ability to feel childlike joy, I am also very connected to carrying deep grief because of the loss I’ve experienced at a young age.

The spring season reminds me especially of this! I feel an urgency to savor and to take in all the delicate blooms that have just bursted into existence from a very brown winter landscape. Because we know the cycle of the seasons, we know these blossoms won’t last forever! There’s an invitation to enjoy the beauty knowing that the shedding, dropping, releasing will be coming again eventually when the timing is right and can we be in the moment with where we are right now?

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These conversations about hard things and the impermanence of our lives also remind me of why I host breathwork. To offer a space for us to come and allow ourselves to feel all the things we feel as human beings living in this wild, chaotic, blooming, heartbreaking, beautiful life. To offer the opportunity to set aside time to pause and go within. Sometimes we tap into joy when we gather to breathe and that’s such a gift. Some days it’s our rage that we need to feel. Maybe it’s peaceful rest. Perhaps it’s feeling into our deeply tired and burned out bones. Often we allow the sad to bubble up. Always we get to feel the vibration of our cells humming because we are alive in this moment. This is why I love breathwork. There’s space for ALL OF IT. And we get to do it in community. We don’t have to carry it alone. We walk our own specific paths, of course, and we have our own flavor of grief and joy, but we get to walk with each other as we journey.
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Yesterday, we are experienced a full moon lunar eclipse in Scorpio. While I haven’t studied astrology, I know that this full moon has the potential to be an emotional one.

My wish for you this full moon is to embrace the fullness of your emotions. For the curiosity to listen close to the messages they have for you. for you to find those practices (like breathwork is for me) where you feel the permission to be fully yourself. For the opportunity to get quiet and find the spring beauty that makes your cells hum with aliveness.

And here’s an album I’m loving lately as a meditation to help those cells hum this spring: Resonance Meditation by Beautiful Chorus.

From "Normal" to Natural

I’ve known for a couple years that I have Hashimoto's thyroiditis (an autoimmune disease where your body attacks the thyroid), but being a type 1 diabetic, managing my blood sugars has taken center stage for most of my years. This summer, after getting a new insulin pump that was a total game changer in my care, I noticed some changes in my body that felt like a nudge to pay more attention to my thyroid. 

So working with a naturopath, a dietitian, and my endocrinologist, I asked for a full thyroid panel and when the blood work came back, my thyroid antibodies were extremely high and my other numbers were out of whack. My dietitian gave me a resource on the Autoimmune Protocol and, being the healing nerd I am, I’ve been diving right in. 

I’d looked at the Autoimmune Protocol diet several years ago and wasn’t super jazzed about it because it focused on all the food groups you have to cut out, which made it feel too restrictive for me. But this ebook! This particular author emphasizes adding all the nutrients in, taking foods out that could be causing the body to be inflamed and in attack mode, getting therapeutic levels of sleep, moving your body gently every day, getting outside to see the daylight, and taking hikes in nature. Now I can totally get on board with that! Most of that stuff is already my jam. 

The thing that struck me the most from reading this book was how often she mentioned type 1 diabetes - my first autoimmune diagnosis - and I’ve been pondering on how I never really focused on the autoimmune component before. Over the years, I’ve tried all the diets, all the supplements, all the exercise, and all the healing modalities. My management of it as of late has been the best I’ve ever had, and yet it still feels like I was missing something. 

And that’s when it hit me: when I was diagnosed in 2000, I was 14 and about to go into high school that fall. The goal at that time in my life was to be as normal as possible. I just wanted to do what I needed to do (which was sometimes the bare minimum!) in order to get back to being a normal high schooler. And a normal college student. And then a normal adult artist! 

When I was freshly diagnosed, one of the most encouraging things my doctor told me was the only two things in the entire world I couldn’t do as a type 1 was go scuba diving and go to war (because of blood sugars - thank the goddess!). Everything else was fair game! Well, I had no intention of going to war anyways and I’m a little claustrophobic, so I’m fine skipping the scuba diving. The freedom in not being defined or limited was huge and I think human beings are such multi-faceted creatures that labels can sometimes hinder the brilliance of how we experience the world. 

And! At this point in my life, with my second autoimmune disease under my belt, I’m less concerned about being NORMAL. 

(Besides, what is “normal” anyway and is “normal” actually healthy in this capitalist, patriarchal, white supremist world we live in? But I digress….) 

This new way of looking at my needs as a person with autoimmune diseases feels more like getting back to NATURAL.

It’s like returning to a rhythm of life that feels more balanced, seasonal, restful. It’s listening to the body first, business second. It’s honoring the need to slow down, to be filled with nutrients, to let go of the day's stress like we did as kids rather than bottling it up like responsible adults. 

Now, I also want to acknowledge how there’s privilege that comes into play here in trying to create a life that bucks the system. I’ve grown up in a working class, single parent family and I lived in New York for a time without health insurance, so just getting my insulin was as much as I could do sometimes and I get it. There may be some obstacles in crafting this kind of existence if it’s a struggle to find clean water and fresh food or if you don’t have a partner to help with the household finances or if you need to have childcare or you have to work 12+ hour shifts in your career. But my hope for us is the more we advocate for each other and these basic needs of thriving instead of just surviving (needs that are everyone’s birthright), the more it can be a reality for more folks.

So, long story short: my goal for this year is to continue to come back to a natural way of being.  

And my wish for you on this full moon is for you to remember what makes you feel good. 

To listen to your body first. 

To find ways to add nutrients to your life, whether that be a quick nap, an art project, a bouquet of flowers or a new plant baby, a date with a friend, a snuggle with your pets, a big ol steak with a side of greens, a toe-curling orgasm, vitamin C, a big belly laugh session, etc etc etc! 

To create a new normal that feels more natural.

Embracing the Medicine of Seasons

Happy new moon friends! It’s the first new moon of 2022, the first one of the winter season, and I’m feeling hopeful anticipation.

It’s been about half a year since I last wrote you back near the summer solstice of 2021 and I’VE MISSED YOU! Over the last several months, I’d often think about you and wish we were gathered in a room together, sitting in circle, sharing what’s on our hearts and our minds, before laying down to breathe.

What have I been doing the last 6+ish months? Taking a slight pause and cocooning a bit. I’ve been focusing on my health (I got a new insulin pump and my blood sugars are the best they’ve every been!) and enjoying having a new puppy (so much work/joy and she’s growing so fast!). I bought a new computer to update my technology for virtual work since my old dinosaur of a friend was starting to fade. I returned to “student mode” as I took a couple of online trainings and completed another level of craniosacral therapy. I spent a lot of family time with my sister who was visiting from Rwanda and with my brother before he returned back to NYC after living in MN during the height of covid. It’s been a needed time to do some quiet soul searching and reflection to find the words to describe my inner landscape.

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During the summer, especially when we had that beautiful little window of time when it felt like covid was retreating, I thought I’d be hosting some in-person, outside breathwork. Summer seemed the perfect season! The outward energy and the warm conditions of Minnesota where we could actually lay on the ground outside seemed ideal! But I just couldn’t manage to do it. And for a long time I wondered WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??

It bothered me that I just didn’t have the energy or inspiration to hold any group gatherings, which usually brings me so much pleasure and creativity. It felt like I had gotten far away from myself and I didn’t know how to get back. After sitting in this space for awhile, what I finally realized was that I was experiencing a change of seasons in my business.

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When I moved back from NYC to MN in 2015, I was in building mode for a couple years. Starting with workshops and offerings that maybe only had 2-3 people attending to steadily growing through word of mouth and eventually filling the room was a pretty sweet journey of meeting the amazing people in my hometown community. When I first started, most of the people in the room had never done breathwork before. When I unknowingly hit my summer season in 2019, at least half the room were experienced breathers and I was in a full schedule of hosting groups twice a month at two beautiful yoga studios, with a third one just for grief work beginning out of the space I was seeing 1:1 clients in, in addition to working a couple retreats and hosting seasonal drum circles with a dear friend.

Then came 2020 and we all know what happened. We stayed at home, places I loved started to close, Minneapolis burned, and my fall season had arrived. I did a lot of shedding, learning, unlearning, listening, grieving. This sounds like a silly thing, but I couldn’t even look at my facebook memories because it hurt too much to see what had been lost. I’m eternally grateful for the magical portals of the internet where we could still be together virtually and there were many gifts found in the slower pace of life as the world drastically changed overnight. Thank the goddess that most of my loved ones have survived and adapted and are doing well. But it has also been hard, uncomfortable, and life-changing.

2021 arrived and there was a hope that we’d return to some sort of “normalcy”, but I forgot that before the spring comes winter. So the grieving continued as I felt that pull inward to hibernate in my backyard among our summer garden and take a pause to re-evaluate how I want to show up, especially in the wellness world during this critical time of public health and community care. When I finally realized I was wintering, I stopped resisting. I felt more at ease with just being IN it and not needing to have all the answers.

Will 2022 bring with it my spring? I’m definitely feeling a shift for myself and a nudge to start creating again. But only time will tell and I’m committed to fully being present in the season of my life and gathering the medicine it has for me. What I do know is (…what I’ve heard from my heart during the quiet of winter…), it’s clear that my deepest desire is to GATHER us. To create places where we can come together for heartfelt conversation, deep listening, and being our full human selves. Those spaces might be a hybrid model of virtual and in nature… and hopefully someday in my very own studio space with gorgeous wood floors and bright natural light (planting that seed now for when the timing is right!). Doing our own personal healing work is essential, but doing so in community with the collective is the way we are going to change the world for the better.

I share this in case you too have been going through different seasons and cycles of your life. We are all just walking each other home after all and I’m grateful to be doing this wild life with you. It’s good to be back and I hope to connect with you soon.

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In case you are feeling the pressure and the stress of a “new year”, just remember the moon is new EVERY 29ish DAYS! We have many opportunities for fresh starts and new beginning energy this year. So as we move across the threshold from 2021 to 2022, here’s my first new moon wish for you:

May your new moon be sweet, your new year be optimistic, your winter nourishing, your seasons enlightening, your mind inquisitive, and your heart centered.

A little new moon gift for you:

(Here is the playlist and email me if you’d like a downloaded version for your device! xo)

Do What Makes Us Feel Alive

I needed to run some errands last week and I realized I was feeling impatient about it because I noticed being huffy with hitting all the red lights. So I turned on some singable tunes and rolled my windows down (my favorite things to do in the summer!) and took some breaths to remind myself I didn’t need to be in a rush.

I ended up being in my old college stomping grounds, so (since I wasn’t in a rush!) I grabbed a bubble tea from a favorite college hangout and drove through my favorite St Paul streets on my way to the freeway. I was reminded of the days when I would head to the chapel steps on campus on a gorgeous evening with a big black sketchbook meant for lyrical musings and I’d watch the sun set over the Dew Drop pond while writing my reflections about life, purpose, my heart, and what is it all for anyway. This was the time before Instagram and when cell phones were for texting and calling and didn’t have so many distracting apps for scrolling.

And as I remembered this time of my life while pulling off the freeway, I witnessed the glowing sun perfectly setting over a body of water in a gasp-inducing moment and I felt so alive.

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On Monday of that week (the beginning of beautiful June!), I shared a piece of art in my Instagram stories that said, “this week I will do what makes me feel alive” and without intentionally doing it, I ended up doing exactly that.

And my wish for us this new moon, this week, this summer, this season, this cycle, this year is that we do what makes us feel alive.

Maybe it’s Instagram or Facebook-worthy (and I’m excited to share in the experience with you as a witness if you do post about it) and maybe it’s those little things, like driving with the windows down, singing to belt-worthy songs, and reflecting on this brutiful life as the sun goes down.

Artist: @newhappyco