A New Beginning

Today is November 6, 2024 - the day after the US Presidential election.

I live in a liberal state with laws in place to protect the most vulnerable among us. Most of the elected officials in my state reflect my values. My community is open-minded and supportive of people from all walks of life. I am fortunate to be able to live here, with most of our family nearby, and not worry too much about my family’s financial situation. We are comfortable. And, our elementary-aged daughter - our only child - is trans. The most important issue in this election, for me, is cultivating a welcoming world where she can thrive as her most authentic self.

I knew it would be close, I’ve been hearing that message on repeat over the last few weeks. I knew it could be a tossup, as the pundits say. I knew another Trump administration was not just a possibility, but a real probability. And, yet, I never gave up hope.

Hope that optimism for a brighter, more inclusive future was within our grasp.

Hope that women of all ages and backgrounds would show up to ensure that our kids will have the same - if not more - rights as us.

Hope that the majority wouldn’t overlook the red flags. The hateful rhetoric. The insurrection. The criminal indictments. The fomenting of anger, resentment and hostility towards “the other”…

I went to bed early, as things were looking bleak, with the hope that ballots were still being counted and the battleground states had not yet been called. I awoke at 3:00am and checked my phone. “TRUMP STORMS BACK” was the headline on the New York Times. I felt devastated.

For the next 3 - 3.5 hours, I lie in bed. My brain ran through all potential scenarios of what tomorrow would bring. For my daughter. For the LGBTQ+ community. For women. For the many underrepresented and overlooked communities that call America home. I never fell back asleep. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I thought about the possibility that hate has become normalized and bullying is revered.

I called off work, drove my daughter to school and came home to loaf around in my pajamas and sit with the grief. I am grieving for what felt like hope. I am grieving for a future for my child that I don’t know that I want. I am grieving for my daughter, who has no idea that so many people believe that she doesn’t exist or shouldn’t exist. I am grieving for all the things I know to be true and all the things I don’t yet know - the uncertainty of it all.

And I don’t know what will come tomorrow or the day after that. I don’t know how the next four years will look for me or my family. I don’t know if this community will always feel safe for us, or for our daughter. But, I know that I know that I am a good human, trying to raise a good human, in a good world where we is seen and loved for who she is.

Today isn’t the new chapter that I was hoping for, but it seems to be the new beginning that I didn’t know I needed.

Today, I allow myself to sit in my feels and wallow. Tomorrow, I go back to building the world that I believe we all deserve.

Stillness

I woke up at 7:30, more than an hour before I normally get up on weekends. I live to stay in bed until I absolutely have to get up. It’s my favorite weekend ritual. I doze. I read stuff on my phone. I’m alone.

My husband naturally wakes up at 6am (which is sleeping in for him, he gets up at 3:30am for work M-F) so everyone is covered - pets are fed, dog is let out, kid is fed and attended to. Why should I bother messing up the equilibrium to get out of my warm, cozy bed to start tending to everyone else’s needs.

“Mama!” my kid exclaims, the second she sees me emerge from the bedroom. As if she had not just been snuggled up next to me, in bed, minutes before. Still, it feels good to get those kind of reactions walking into a room.

“Berger, what are you doing up?” my husband asks. I normally don’t show my face until around 9.

I plop myself on the couch, wrap myself in blankets, complain about how cold our house feels this morning and start texting my sister. My husband brings me a hot cup of coffee.

Lovely, I think to myself. A lovely, cold winter morning. All the right ingredients for snuggling up and easing into the day.

I grab the book I was reading the night before, open to the page where I left off, and begin again.

I stopped my nightly drinking habit a little over a month ago. I haven’t had any alcohol since November 18th. My sleep has improved, my anxiety has decreased and I feel so much more patient and present these last few weeks. I took up Legos with my kid. I started reading again. I have been finding comfort in slowing down and basking in stillness.

It’s the opposite of how I normally live my life - bouncing from one task to the next, taking on new responsibilities all the time, trying to make things easier for everyone else to my own detriment, never slowing down to rest or relax or reset.

To say that kind of lifestyle is exhausting is an understatement. It’s unsustainable. I’ve been burning myself out, day-after-day, for years. For a long time, I felt like the alcohol gave me more space in my life, more time to myself. And maybe it did. A few sips of wine - or Champagne, my favorite - and I could forget about the neverending tasks scrolling through my mind, and feel a little freer. If only for the moments that I was drinking.

Lately, I’ve noticed that not drinking has given me more space in my life. I sleep better. I feel more patient, especially around my daughter who knows how to expertly push all my buttons. I can keep my cool with greater ease. I don’t know if I can say I’ll never drink again. But I know that I love how I feel and I want to continue to feel this way. And to do that, and feel more stillness in my life, I will not drink today.

- J

Intentional

As I write this, I’m lounging around on Jan 1, 2024 in my bathrobe, fresh out of a hot shower. My husband and kid are off to the grocery store, gifting me with about ~45 minutes of peace and quiet all to myself. Diamonds, it’s not, but I’ll take it.

When they first walked out the door, I was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, trying to find missing Lego pieces to re-construct some recently deconstructed Lego creations. About five minutes went by before I realized I was sitting on the floor, trying to find someone else’s missing Lego pieces while I had the house and time to myself. I realized the error of my ways and picked myself off the floor to go take a hot shower, with my nottooshortbutnotlongenough alone time.

I enjoyed my piping hot, peaceful shower in our quirky and not-totally useful bathroom space, I started thinking about the year that we’re closing - a year that’s been full of self-reflection and digging into my self-destructive thought patterns. I’ve spent the last 12 months working on my issues in therapy, re-evaluating my values, changing jobs, trying different kinds of self-care to see what makes me feel best and trying to juggle my many roles as wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, employee, business owner, primary parent, and plenty of others I can never remember but that still haunt me with responsibility. I’m closing one year and beginning another feeling totally, massively depleted.

My bucket is totally bone dry and has been empty for a loooooong time.

And I finally realized what everyone around me has been trying to tell me, it doesn’t have to be this way. I don’t have to do and do and do and do and do all the time, never stopping, to make everyone happy. Which is why I do it, to try to make sure other people like me. To try to always feel good about myself (spoiler alert - I don’t!) because I am always doing something. But other people’s feelings are not my responsibility and everyone is allowed to feel their feelings - good or bad - myself, included. And unpleasant or uncomfortable feelings give us information, too.

I quit Instagram because it made me obsess about perfection. My body. My style. My family. My job. My house. I wasted time and money chasing a perfect visual of a perfect life - which is totally subjective - and I felt bad all the time because I was always chasing something else that I didn’t have and telling myself I needed to have that thing for everything to be perfect. But perfect doesn’t exist.

I was struck by how free I feel being off of social media and not seeing all the infinite ways someone can do life. Some people’s versions look really great, some not-so-much. None of them are mine. I’ve been off for about a year now and looking at my dated and semi-functional bathroom didn’t make me feel an urgent need to renovate. While I feel like I know this on some level, I felt viscerally struck by the realization that best parts of life - the parts that I find myself most grateful for - are not the perfect parts. They are they parts where we are comfortable in our own skin, and living in the moment, and enjoying the surrounding company and the energy just clicks. Which is to say, I feel like I am in a good spot.

A shift in perspective.

I am closing 2023 with a few extra pounds from the week-and-a-half I took off to celebrate the holidays, eat all the sugary treats, and relax on all the couches (mine, my sister’s, my BFF’s), but I am feeling well-rested and hydrated, and motivated to find ways to bring more movement into my weekly routine. Mostly, I am grateful for the lessons I’ve learned so that I can take better care of myself and show up as the best version of myself in the year ahead.

As I start this New Year, I am determined to make better use of my time. I don’t do resolutions, but I like the idea of focusing on one meaningful thing. My focus for the year ahead is intention. I shifted and molded and twisted and contorted to accomodate everyone else, only to exhaust myself to the point that I found myself devoid of joy. In 2024 I plan to be more intentional my time, my energy and my resources and how I spend them. I will make space for my wants and needs. I will embrace the discomfort as a clue as to what needs to change. I will do things that feel good and fun and joyful. I will be present with my people. I will prioritize my health and wellbeing. I will take my time. And I will rest.

Day 1, here we go. Let’s see where we end up in the next 12 months.

- J

Presence

My day started at 5:30am, way earlier than I like to wake up. My kid was in my bed, wiggling around. I was lying there, still, willing her to go back to sleep. I silently fumed for about 15 minutes before I gave up, put on my robe and got up.

Immediately, my daughter started to protest, “If you’re getting up, I’m getting up.”

“No,” I said. “We talked about this. I need time to myself in the morning before you get up. You can read quietly in here or you can go to your room and try to sleep. You can come to the kitchen at 6:30.”

She stomped to her room, locked the door and started crying.

I felt guilty. Why couldn’t my kid come to the kitchen with me?

She’s had a terrible attitude lately. She’s been acting rude and spiteful. I haven’t enjoyed my time with her lately, and it’s really bumming me out. I text my mom friends, and make this shameful confession. They respond with empathy, understanding and love. My eyes well up with gratitude. It’s not even 6:30am yet.

I want to enjoy being with my kid.

Starting my day this way, I’m off to a shaky start. I got my daughter off to school, guzzled two cups of coffee and made a smoothie before I settled down at my laptop, ready to work, at 8:30. Not long after, I found myself paralyzed by indecision, misalignment and insecurity. I haven’t been showing up as my best self at home, with my daughter. And, in turn, I haven’t been showing up as my best self at work, with my colleagues and responsibilities.

In my effort to try to keep everyone else happy and liking me, I’ve made myself miserable. I can’t make decisions when I take everyone else’s opinion into account - everyone has a right to an opinion. But I can’t find my own opinion when I don’t create space in my life. I don’t have space in my life when I don’t stop doing, when I don’t make time to just be.

I haven’t been present. For myself. For my daughter. For the task at hand.

I am either multitasking, moving from one thing to another, dulling my thoughts with mindless scrolling or sugar binges or shopping. I haven’t been listening to the person I need to listen to the most - myself.

When I abandon myself, I act in ways that are not in alignment with my values, because I’m not listening to my body. I’m not paying attention. I’m not living my values. And when I am not aligned with what’s important to me - what I stand for - I feel shaky, unstable and insecure.

I don’t trust myself. I’m not listening to my knowing. I’m not focused on what’s most imporatnt to me - my relationships and my health and well-being. I’m putting my focus on the wrong things - other people’s opinions, what’s happening outside of my control, whether people like me, think I’m smart or doing good work. I’m not present in my own life.

When I picked up my daughter from school, later in the afternoon, I tried something different. We went to an appointment, and then home where I had to finsih up work. When I closed my laptop, I put my phone away.

I sat on the couch, next to the dollhouse she was playing with. She told me about her day. I listened and asked questions. We danced in the living room to Taylor Swift. My husband got pizza and we ate together at the dining table, without any distraction. Afterwards, we snuggled on the couch, by the fire, to watch Miracle on 34th Street.

We also had an argument. She got mad - about what, I don’t remember. She started to make threats, to say things she knew would get a reaction. But this time, instead of reacting, I tried something different. I told her, “It’s okay to feel angry. It’s not okay to be unkind.” And I walked out of the kitchen, to give her (and me) space, and I sat on the couch, alone.

After a few minutes, she came to sit next to me. I reached out to tickle her. She giggled, curled up, and asked me to tickle her more. I asked her if she was still angry. She shook her head no. I smiled at her. She gave me a hug. It felt really good. And really different from how we started our day.

It was a beautiful reminder that we always have the opportunity to start fresh. To be present. To shift our focus, to what really matters.

Gratitude

I drank my face off on Thanksgiving and woke up feeling…not my best.

I consumed glasses and glasses of sparkling apple cider. Some glasses mixed with sparkling water. Some glasses mixed with other juices or flavors. But I did not drink a drop of alcohol and I feel tremendous gratitude for that today.

Alcohol, for me, is a slippery slope. I love bubbles. I love a real Champagne - from Champagne. I love the bubbles and the color and the flutes. I love the effervessence. I love the slight lightheadedness, letting go, my mood magically uplifting as if bubbling up with the bubbles in my glass. That first moment - the sip that takes me out of me head and into the present - I crave that. And I find myself continuing to go back, again and again, to keep the feeling alive in my body.

The problem is, I usually overdo it. I drink too much and find myself very much out of the moment, and not paying attention to how I feel, the details of the conversation or the little bits of joy that come when you’re living in the present. I wake up with a hangover, declare I’ll never drink again and then find myself consumed with shame the next time I make the exact same choices.

It’s not productive. I continue to find myself in the same shame spiral, again and again. And my general approach to alcohol is generally not working.

So last night, I decided to drink whatever and whenever I wanted - so long as it didn’t contain alcohol.

And today I am so proud of myself. I stayed up too late, I woke up too early and yet I still feel 1000% better than if I had drank booze. I can make my daughter breakfast. I can decorate the house. I can make plans with friends. I can exercise. I can meditate and do some early Christmas shopping and enjoy time with my family.

I am so grateful that I listened to my body and followed its lead.

Here’s to a new chapter in my life. One of clear-minded, level-headed, in-the-moment presence and awe. I hope I will find joy here, too.

Sugar > Booze

Sugar > booze. That’s the tradeoff I’m making in this moment. I’ve found that my nightly cocktail habit was making me more anxious, more depressed and more ill-equipped to handle the ebbs and flows of daily life. Of course, I don’t recoginize that in the moment. I can only see the pattern clearly when I take a break. I’ve been off the sauce for about five days. Not enough time to be life-changing, but space enough to clearly see that I feel better when alcohol is not a daily presence in my life.

Do I think I’ll quit forever? I don’t know.

Do I like how I feel when I’m not drinking? Abso-fucking-lutely. I sleep better. I can show up for myself and others better. I am clearer-headed. Ultimately, I feel like a better version of myself.

Do I feel like I miss out when I’m not drinking? Yes, honestly. I am going to my sister’s house tonight for dinner and I know there will be wine. And drinking the wine will feel easier than not drinking the wine, as wild as that sounds.

Can I have ‘just a glass’ here and there? Maybe. I’ve never been good about enjoying a glass of wine and not wanting more. I love the feeling - the ease that creeps through my mind - as the alcohol stirs through my body. And I always want more of that feeling.

Will I stay open-minded and see where the day takes me? Yes, but my goal right now is to keep riding the clarity that I feel when I am not drinking. No judgment of myself and others.

Over the last week, as I work on breaking the habit of making myself a cocktail after work, I have consumed bowls of ice cream, more fun size candy bars than I can count, chips, cereal and any other “junk food” I can get my hands on. Does it make me feel good? No, but it doesn’t make me feel as bad as the consistent alcohol intake does. I’m not drunk during the week. I don’t get drunk off of one cocktail. Though, if I’m honest, I like that feeling too…it’s the ultimate freedom of letting go but has way too many undesirable side effects. The thing I notice about myself is that the more often I do the “just a cocktail to unwind” the easier it is to slip into situations where I will get drunk.

Last Friday, I consumed the equivalent of an entire bottle of bubbly to myself. Plus a cocktail. Plus, sips of other people’s cocktails. And I felt like absolute garbage for the entirety of Saturday. I didn’t get out of bed. I didn’t eat until about 5pm. When I did eat, I ate garbage because that was all my body wanted. I had a pounding headache. I slept like shit. I didn’t enjoy my day, my time or my family at all. I also didn’t beat myself up about it. It was a choice that I made that came with natural consequences - a brutal hangover and a day lost to licking my wounds.

I am grateful to A for holding down the fort with D and not making me feel bad about myself. I do enough of that, on my own, so I don’t really need any help. I am grateful for a day of rest and reflection to think about how I use alcohol, what it adds (or doesn’t) to my life. I am grateful for the fun I had, with friends at our house, while I was drinking. And I am grateful that each new day is another chance to try something out and make adjustments so that I can find new ways to love my life.

xx

J

Busy Weekend

The weekend took a lot of energy. Birthday celebrations everyday. Socializing everyday. Planning, coordinating, being “on” and go-go-going took a lot out of me. I’ve been lingering on the hard stuff lately, much more than appreciating the good stuff. It’s put me in a bit of a funk so I’m working to re-center myself and shift my priorities and energies back to what matters - caring for myself so I can show up as the best version of myself. While the weekend wasn’t the perfect picture of rest and relaxation, there is plenty to be grateful for:

1. Family memories. Taco night & paletas. Pizza and cake with the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Scandia party with friends from school. In N Out. Hiking with family. Wine tasting. Cousin playtime. It was a full weekend, and also a weekend full of memories. D said it was her best birthday ever. Steph had a great day. We celebrated our people and I’m grateful for that.

2. Hot tub mornings. While we were busy from the time we woke up until the time we went to bed each day, we also made a point to relax in the hot tub each morning, coffee in hand. We talked, relaxed and spent time together before starting the crazy busy days.

3. Recalibrating. Having a stretch of life that feels uncomfortable or painful is an invitation to reset. I am choosing to see this period of my life as another opportunity to re-evalutate my priorities and how I’m spending my time and energy so that I can recalibrate and give myself the space I need to feel like the best version of myself.

It’s been a rocky patch of life, lately. Challenging dynamics with my kid. A new job. A new school year. Aging parents with more complicated support needs. I’m learning how to balance these buckets so that I have enough to give others, but most importantly so I have enough to give myself. Onward.

June 21, 2023

I’m learning how to do things on my terms, in my own way. I’ve spent so many years twisting and contorting myself into everyone else’s vision of what they want me to be, that I lost my own way. My hope for these weeks that I have off of work, free from responsibility, is to find my way back to myself. To trust my own intution. To live with intention and in aligntment with my values. To be me, whatever that means in a given moment. I feel like I’m making progress and I’m grateful for it:

1. Starting my day with the same guided meditation I’ve been listening to for the last two months. A body scan. It feels like such a soul-filling way to start my day, it’s soothing and I get out of bed feeling awesome. I love it.

2. Having a great morning with D where I was not chasing her around reminding her of all the things she needed to do. She took care of her responsibilities. We didn’t argue. I was able to go-with-the-flow and no one was on a particular timeline, so I wasn’t stressed. It was a great way to start the day.

3. Canceling plans that weren’t feeling good. To much social activity wears me out. I’m learning how to be in tune with my energy levels so I can know when to lean in and say ‘yes’ to invitations and activities and when to say ‘no’ because I need recharge time. Right now, I feel the need for recharge time and I’m glad I honored that need.

4. Dinner date with a friend. I feel good when I shower, get dressed and put effort into getting myself together. We got in a walk, dinner, great conversation and time to connect. I got out of the house, spent time with someone I don’t see everyday and arrived home feeling content.

5. Yoga. Stretching my body, and making the time to prioritize it in the evening, feels so good before bedtime. I’m not rushing to get into bed at 9 because I don’t wake up at 5. I’m being realistic with myself - I wake up between 7 and 8 - and I can enjoy time to myself at night when I get a second wind. I may need to shift my timing when I start working again, but for now…this feels good.

Dear Dad

“At least I can tell the difference between f and ph,” I say.

We’re sitting in a doctor’s office, having just met with the neurologist that will be seeing us - well, you, really - every few months for who-knows-how-long. He’s just left the room, and the nurse came to meet with us to schedule your next appointment for sometime in December. After enough time has passed that we can get a new assessment for how your cognition is declining.

She’s asking my dad questions about the appointment we’ve just had.

She looks over at me. Her eyes are cold. And if I think about it, what I said is kind of a shitty thing to say to my dad who has Alzheimer’s.

But you start laughing, immediately, like I knew you would. It’s the best, your laugh. Big and takes over your whole body. You crinkle your eyes and smile this giant, goofy smile that takes over your whole face. You double-over and grab your sides, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. A few tears stream out of your eyes.

It even makes me laugh, the way you laugh and make me feel like the funniest person you’ve ever met. Except I’m not, because that would be Steph. And she would never laugh at her own joke, but she couldn’t make it to your appointment today so we’ll all laugh at mine. Even me.

You always laugh at the cheap shots, the jokes we make at your expense. It’s our “thing,” the family quirk. In fact, it feels more weird to not make fun of you. It’s just what we do.

Just six months ago, you were diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Just six months ago, we learned, officially, that the you that we know won’t always be the you we get. We’ve known for a while that you had cognitive impairment, but we didn’t know what that meant or how it might play out. Maybe you’re just in your 70s, and that’s life. Maybe it was the mini strokes (this term terrifies me because implies no one knew…and they didn’t). Maybe it’s some kind of dementia. We just didn’t know…until we did.

It’s Alzheimer’s.

And some days, that feels so heavy. To know that you are going to forget more and more things.

So, I try to make it lighter. In the only way I know how.

Making fun of you.

Love you,

J

Fifteen Things

I’ve got fifteen days free of work, free of obligation. That means 15 days to do whatever I want while my kid is at daycare, my partner is at work and I don’t have any daytime responsibilities. This is what I want to do:

1. Move my body. Weights. Walking. Yoga. Hiking. Anything intentional that feels good.

2. Plant flowers to add more color to the deck, the yard and spice up the outdoor space.

3. Clean out closets and get rid of stuff that we don’t want, don’t need or don’t like anymore.

4. Cook. Find new recipes to get inspired, try different flavors and change up our dining habits.

5. Go see a movie, by myself, during the middle of the day.

6. Lounge on the couch, in my pajamas, all day long and binge watch a show and not feel an ounce of guilt.

7. Go shopping, all by myself. Take my time. Eat lunch out.

8. Paint a canvas. Get fun colors that make me happy. Try spray paint. Make my own art.

9. Visit antique and consignment shops. Find unique items that speak to me and feel good having around.

10. Make plans with friends. Hang out in the backyard, on people’s front porch, at a restaurant. Just get out.

11. Connect with my parents. Visit them at their house. Take them to lunch. Talk to them.

12. Make memories with D. Surprise her. Do things we don’t normally do. Enjoy the summer break.

13. Date A. Out and about. At home, after D goes to bed. On walks. Be present during time together, wherever we may be.

14. Read a good book. Fiction. Spend more time at the library. Read chapter books with D.

15. Host people in the backyard. Buy snacks. Hang out. Let kids run wild.

Butterfly

About a month ago, about the time that I learned a new opportunity was waiting for me, I was reading a spiritual woo-woo book about manifestation. It all makes sense, I think that’s why I like it.

Live in good energy and you will attract good energy.

Be in alignment with the life you want.

The universe gives us signs - little synchronicities - to help guide us.

It all sounds good to me, I want to believe it. I ask the universe, out loud, to give me a sign. A sign that I am on the right path. Not only that, I want to know within 48 hours. And I want to know by seeing a butterfly, a symbol of transformation.

These are the directions I read in the book and I followed them to a T. I asked for a sign. I specified what I needed that sign to look like. I suggested a timeframe.

Those 48 hours came and went without a sign No butterfly. I honestly felt sort of disappointed. I wondered what a lack of a sign means. And I thought about how it was like an exercise I learned recently - yes or not yes. Not ‘no’…but not ‘yes’ either. It’s like a maybe, which can go lots of different ways.

Maybe soon.

Maybe not now.

Maybe we need more information.

Maybe yes.

Maybe no.

Maybe.

I thought maybe, just maybe, the lack of a butterfly sighting was a maybe. Am I on the right path? Not yes. But not no, either.

And I talked to my therapist about it. Not the question I asked of the universe. And not the lack of a sign from the universe. But about what was happening - this new opportunity - and what it means for me. What it means to walk away from something and what it means to walk towards something new, something unknown. What it feels like to walk away from a thing that was no longer serving me. And how to see it that way, rather than walking away from something with anger and resentment.

I realized I don’t have to feel angry or resentful. I learned a lot of things. About myself and how I want to show up in this world. About what’s important to me. About how I want to be treated. About how I want to treat myself.

I made new connections, new friends. I learned how to do new things. I did some hard things. I grew.

And now, a month later, I’ve walked away from the thing that no longer serves me. And I am walking towards a new opportunity. I’m a little wiser. A bit stronger. A lot myself. I can honestly say that I am proud of the way I’ve moved through the last thirty days. I’m proud of myself.

Today, on my walk, I was enjoying the fresh air and a little time away from the house, I saw a butterfly. A beautiful black and white and orange butterfly, fly over and around where I was walking, and then away towards the nearby flowers.

As Myself

I am here for myself, as myself.

I repeated this mantra in my mind. Feeling absolutely held, and at peace, during an intensely healing Reiki session, I reminded myself that my top priority is to show up for myself, as myself. I can’t expect anyone else to do it for me. And, quite frankly, I don’t want to. I have spent so many years showing up for everyone else, as they would like me to, that I’d abandoned myself, my needs and parts of who I am.

I am powerful.

I am sassy

I am self-assured.

I am resilient.

I am brave.

I am capable.

I am strong.

I am loving.

I am joyful.

I am kind.

I am open.

I am.

I am me. I am here.

I am here for myself, as myself. And that is…and always will be…the path to presence.

Time Off

I took the day off. I wasn’t sick. I didn’t have plans. I wasn’t going anywhere, but I needed the time off. I’ve been feeling burnt out beyond belief. I can’t think things through. I can’t complete normal, daily tasks. I can’t focus. So, when I woke up this morning, I decided to take a day for myself.

To do nothing.

To do everything I wanted to do.

To relax and rest and reset.

I didn’t go anywhere, but I did have a fulfilling day. I am grateful that I listened to my inner knowing and spent my time doing the things that fill my cup:

1. I got up early, for the first time in a long time. I woke up before my daughter and I had time to myself to meditate and practice Reiki and drink my lemon water before anyone else needed things from me. It felt so peaceful and unrushed.

2. I walked my daughter and her friends to school. I took a picture of the three of them, walking and holding hands. I chatted with other parents. I made tentative plans for an end-of-school-year party in our backyard. I confirmed I did send in my daughter’s permission slip for an upcoming field trip. I walked home, leisurely, with no plans to be anywhere.

3. I took Lu for a long walk. I listened to a great podcast that took my mind off of the hard parts of life. I soaked in the sunshine. I moved my body. I breathed in the fresh air. I was in the moment.

4. I interviewed for a part-time or freelance position with an agency. I felt excited about what that could look like and mean for my time and freedom. I imagined what I could learn, what experiences I could gain. I felt like I was being true to myself. I was candid and honest. I don’t know where, or if, it will go but I felt proud of myself for exploring the opportunity.

5. I had tacos, on Taco Tuesday, outside on the deck with my family. I love this dinner because we all eat the same thing, we sit together and we talk about the day or what we want to do for the weekend. I love sitting outside and when the weather feels like summer - free and full of possibility.

I listened to my inner knowing - the part of me that told me to take a break - and I am so grateful I did. I didn’t light the world on fire, but I did light a fire inside myself to feel more full of life than I have in a long time.

To be seen

Mondays are not my jam.

I intended to wake up early, before my daughter, to have time to myself for coffee, to read, do a home workout…whatever I wanted. My alarm went off at 6 and turned to see I her asleep in the bed next to me. Our mornings are fraught enough already, and I worried that if I got up before her, she’d probably wake up angry and I’d spend most of my energy trying to come down from a flight-or-fight morning. And, to be honest, I wanted to pretend it wasn’t Monday morning.

So I lie there and sort of dozed until 7, when she finally woke up. I needed to make breakfast and pack her lunch so I need to get moving. She wanted me to help her get dressed, but I didn’t have time to go through outfits with her. She ended up getting angry, I ended up getting triggered and the morning was a flight-or-fight anyways. The sleeping in only made me feel more behind on my to-dos. The day started a bit bumpy and I had a few tools in my stress toolbox to help. I’m feeling grateful that I have new strategies to cope when life feels like too much:

1. Reiki and meditation always help me to come back to a chill baseline. I lie down, in my bed, run through a few positive affirmations and move my hands down through the chakras to help balance my energy. I feel cozy and supported and relaxed. It’s the best way to start my day.

2. A walk outside in the sun and fresh air. With my dog. I am never not amazed by how much my mood and attitude can shift from just taking a walk. Stepping away from whatever it is I am doing and moving my body helps me to get a fresh perspective. I always walk back in the door feeling refreshed. I love walks.

3. Emotional Freedom Tapping (EFT). This is new to me, my therapist taught me how to do it when I am feeling overwhelmed or triggered. I’m still getting used to it, but I needed to give it a try today. It helps and takes my mind off of whatever thoughts are ruminating through my mind.

4. Therapy. Monday is my therapy day. It started out fine enough, I verbal vomit all the things in my mind. Towards the end of the session, I realized that I felt my voice stifled as a kid…for whatever reason. I didn’t feel seen. That understanding felt like a heavy load to carry and also incredibly freeing to acknowledge and say out loud. I realize this is probably just the beginning of unpacking that part of my childhood, but acknowledgement is a start.

5. Beautiful weather. Time outside to read, sip my kombucha and unwind from the day. A healthy dinner at the table with my family. My husband putting my daughter to sleep so I could read a bit more. Quiet time to myself at night. And the commitment to get up earlier in the morning so I don’t repeat the same mistake of the day. I crawled into bed feeling open, hopeful, at peace.

Whatever it takes. Life is a rollercoaster and I’m so glad I have tips and tricks to turn to when I can’t cope. Being able to start again, in any moment, feels like a gift.

Lovely Day

A pancake and fruit breakfast board. Local parade and festival. Dinner date with existing and new mom friends. Late night 80s dance party. A very busy day turned out to be a day of slowing down to do the things that fill my cup. An all-around lovely day - really, weekend - that has me actually feeling recharged going into the week ahead. Today, I’m feeling grateful for:

1. A super fun outing with a friend, and her girlfriend, that started with a picnic brunch consisting of bacon, strawberries, bananas and blueberries with a mix of chocolate chip and plain, fluffy pancakes. Coffee. A belini. A parade, a little shopping, some bounce house activity and lots of walking. Cute photos. Fun memories.

2. Dinner date night with a few moms from the neighborhood. I got dressed up. The food was great, the conversation was effortless. The service was awesome. We all shared a few bites of dessert. Such a rare occurrence and felt so good.

3. Met up after 9:00 pm (!!) with some friends, at a hotel, for an 80s themed dance party. It was so not my scene; I felt awkward being there. And also, it was so fun to people watch, have a glass of bubbles (guilt free), and feel kind of free being out of my element. My friends were dressed up. We danced and sang along to Whitney Houston. I was home and hydrated by 11, with a happy heart.

4. I slept in on Sunday. Had a sit in the hot tub. Listened to my favorite yoga nidra meditation. Made my new favorite smoothie for breakfast. Went for a run. Made the bed (fresh sheets make me weirdly joyful). Took a shower and made the time to blowdry my hair. Put a little makeup on. Got dressed in actual clothes.

5. Made hamburger patties, Impossible burger patties and prepped the condiments and fruit salad. Drank a non-alcoholic Kolsch beer while enjoying the 80-degree weather. Had friends over for a backyard BBQ. Fresh pineapple. Lots of sparkling water. Good music. Kids running and laughing in the yard. Everyone home by 7:15. Short family walk. Everyone in pjs by 8:15.

Slowing down to do the things that make me feel good, feels good. I’m learning how to listen to my body - what feels good, what brings me joy and what feels like rest. Connection. Pleasure. Fun. Moderation. Movement. Intention.

Taco Tuesday

We started a sticker chart to track good behavior. The morning checklist includes: getting dressed, brushing hair, putting on shoes and socks, brushing teeth and getting out the door on time. It was a great, smooth morning and I think we both started the day on a really positive note. I hope we can keep up the momentum.

The work day was very meeting-ful, including a two hour meeting straight through lunch. I felt tired and draggy. I needed a break or fresh air or to move my body, but I powered through. I told myself that if I just got through it, I could end my day a little early. Spoiler alert: I did not end my day early, but I did end it so there’s that.

The day felt like forever, but there were good spots, too:

1. I walked D to school and ran into friends when we got there. Short chats. A little movement for my day (before a very, very sedentary day). Smiles and laughs. Seeing the kids D plays with. Giving her a hug before leaving.

2. A delicious smoothie for breakfast. Gut healthy, no sugar added and so, so filling. Good flavor. Healthy ingredients. I felt like I was starting my day with good stuff.

3. Great updates from our canning in Washington. We made excellent progress on getting everything canned, in new package, with higher doses of CBD. Feeling good about getting these out into the market.

4. Taco Tuesday with the fam. Ground turkey taco meat. Salads for me and A. Tacos for D. Everyone sitting at the table together, talking about what we’re grateful for (D - a good morning and good listening! Mama walking her to school!). Homework completed. Dishes washed. A great end to the day.

5. We had some hiccups at bedtime. I think A was grumpy and kind of took it out on D. It’s hard not to intervene when I feel the energy ramping up in a bad way. I try to let them work it out on their own, but I couldn’t do it last night. I jumped in and I’m glad I did. D was so activated and sad, and had a hard time regulating. I was glad to be there to help her know that she is safe and ok and did such a great job listening throughout the day and taking care of her responsibilities. We ended on a calm note and I’m glad for that.

   Tomorrow is another day.

The Sun Came Out

I’ve been wallowing a lot lately. I am struggling with my job. Company morale is in the sewer. Getting up in the morning is the hardest part of my day. As the sun rises each morning, I open my eyes and think, Fuck, I gotta do this…again.

I daydream about calling in sick. I’ll make coffee, walk my daughter to school, and come home to an empty house. I’ll take my dog for a long walk, before coming home for a homemade matcha and breakfast. After, I might binge some episodes of Beef. I might read. I might go out to lunch. I might test out some recipes I’ve been wanting to try. I might go shopping…all by myself.

I live an entire day of what I’d love to be doing, before I ultimately get out of bed.

I do this every. single. day. It’s exhausting and depressing and I have no energy. For anything. Anyone. Nothing, none.

But this last weekend, the sun was out.

After months and months of rain and clouds and more rain, and flooding and destruction, and more rain…the sun came out. It was glorious. I ended up having a wonderful, cup-filling weekend. These are the things I’m grateful for:

1. My niece’s family birthday party. Everyone chipping in to help with the birthday dinner. Frosting the rainbow (so joyful!) cake. A crazy delicious nacho bar. Plenty of non-alcoholic beverage options. Good conversation. Time with my parents. Seeing my daughter and her cousin spend hours playing Hide & Seek. Cuddling kittens.

2. Navigating an uncomfortable conversation with an open-mind. Acknowledging we are on the same team. We all make mistakes. A long walk with my dog. Chatting with my mom. A ‘hello’ from an old friend. Living in a neighborhood where kids come in and out the front door.

3. Seeing a friend I haven’t seen in a while. Sleeping in. A leisurely start to the day. Getting my exercise in at the start of my day. A three mile loop and 10,000 steps. A warm enough day to sit on the deck, no sweatshirt required, to cool down with a Calm Moment

4. My sister taking my daughter to the movies. An hour and a half to myself. A healthy haul from Whole Foods to start some better habits. An hour and a half to myself. Enough time to prep a new recipe for dinner. An hour and a half to myself.

5. Afternoon hot tub with A. No phones, no distractions. Sun starting to go down. Quiet conversation. Dinner cooking. D playing with her legos. Laundry done and put away. Beds made and house vacuumed. Dishes washed and put away. Just peaceful being. Together.

Today, I’m grateful the sun came out for the weekend. I’m planning to carry it with me into the week.

Rituals

1. For getting back into the swing of things. No, I haven’t been perfect. Yes, I’ve taken two steps forward and one step back. But I am consistently waking up early during the week, between 6:00 and 6:15am, to have some time to myself before D wakes up. I drink my AG1. I have a cup of coffee. I have some peace + quiet before the day begins and I love it. Maybe I’ll lift some weights tomorrow.

2. For walking D to school. Now that I’m back in an office, I don’t have as many opportunities to pop out for a walk and change of scenery. Walking her to school, chatting up some mom friends and getting fresh air before heading to the office makes my morning so much better. Now if only I could find a way to squeeze in a quick walk with Lu, too.

3. For doing what I could do in a day, and not grinding after-hours on projects that can wait until tomorrow. Instead of opening the laptop back up, I had dinner with my family. I sat in the hot tub with my daughter. I did some yoga. I snuggled my Lu girl. I chose how to spend my time and energy and it felt refreshing.

4. For recapping the day, in my favorite comfy clothes, with a candle burning in the background and appreciating how far I’ve come. Three years ago, I would have been sitting on the couch, drinking a bottle of wine…alone. Two years ago, I would have been anxious about having my salary cut and frantically searching for jobs. A year ago, I was hoping to create a new product, a business, a vision. Today, I am imagining how the year will unfold in beautiful, unexpected, and gratifying ways.

5. For feeling at peace with who I am and what my life looks like. It’s messy. It’s colorful. It’s complicated. It’s happy and sad and maddening. It’s scary and it’s beautiful. It’s guiding me and shaping me and changing everyday. Tonight, I’ll rest my mind and body, appreciating that I am exactly where I’m meant to be, doing exactly what I’m meant to do at exactly the right time.

   With gratitude,
   J

Kitchen yoga

1. For sleeping in until 8. D got up on her own and didn’t wake me. I woke up in bed, alone, on a day off. Glorious.

2. For an easy morning. Made D blueberry waffles for breakfast while I enjoyed my cup(s) of coffee. Nowhere to be. Nothing to do. Light social plans, still hours away. It was nothing and everything. 

3. For a perfectly cozy Saturday. We invited ourselves over to my sister’s house. We showed up in sweatpants. I brought my book. My husband and BIL watched a football game. The cousins did their own thing. We all played a few rounds of Taco, Cat, Goat, Cheese, Pizza. We had polenta and short ribs for dinner. I drank a Calm Moment. 

4. For our first social gathering, outside of family, in over 3 years. It was so nourishing for the soul! To welcome new friends into our home. To talk and laugh with people who don’t live with us. To see the kids all navigate sharing and playing and taking turns. To eat takeout pizza and homemade cupcakes. To be alive. 

5. For feeling at peace. Grateful for the weekend that’s passed and welcoming of the week ahead. My dog walks into the kitchen to see what I’m doing. I sit down on the floor of the kitchen to pet her. She walks away and I stretch my back and legs while I wait for my my last cup of tea to steep. Yoga in the kitchen. Gratitude in my heart. 

We need glowsticks

I hate the Elf that lives on the shelf in our house. I would never have bought one. Everyone has one. Kids love them. It makes Christmas feel like magic. And they are the worst thing ever to happen to parents. Every night I wake up in a panic, sometime around 1am, and remember that I have to move the elf. It got so bad, I had to set an alarm on my phone for 9:30 ever night to remember. It’s the worst.

My kid kept moving the elf and I read, somewhere, that kids are not supposed to touch the elf. So, I did what I had to do. I had to break it to my kid. She’d touched the elf so many times, I had to tell her the elf lost its magic. Sadly, the elf wouldn’t be able to make mischief in night while we were sleeping because it was stuck. In one position. In one room. I was overjoyed at the freedom I had created - I could sleep through the night again!

Except my kid was so bummed. She wanted to find a way to bring the elf’s magic back. So, we watched YouTube videos and searched Google for ways to bring an elf’s magic back.

A sprinkle of cinnamon.

A dash of sugar.

An apology note, to the elf or to Santa.

“Glowsticks. We need glowsticks,” my daughter said.

“Do we have any glowsticks?” I asked.

“I have a lot. Good thing, too, because we need them for Sophia.”

Sophia is the name of our elf. I hope she knows how lucky she is that we have a supply of glowsticks.

So, we moved the elf (touched just one last time…my kid promises) to a box so that “we wouldn’t make a mess” and sprinkled some cinnamon and dashes of sugar around the elf. Next, my kid wrote a note to the elf.

I am sorry I touched the elf. Love, Sweetpea*

Next, we got the glowsticks. One-by-one, we broke them into sticks that glow. Two green. One pink. One purple. We laid them in the box, next to Sophia the elf.

Finally, we called Santa. That’s right, we went straight to the big guy in the North Pole. The night before, a friend of mine sent me a phone number to call Santa. So, we called him. It’s a cute little Ho Ho Ho from Santa and a message about listening to your parents and making toys and getting ready for Christmas. At the beep, we left our message.

“Hi Santa. I’m sorry about touching Sophia and making her lose her magic. She probably can’t get back to the North Pole at night to help make presents for the kids with the other elves. I will fix her. And, also, Santa… I want a thing for my kitchen where I can make drinks for people and get them from a machine. That’s what I want for Christmas. And my mom wants some bath bombs and some face masks to help her relax. Thanks, Santa. Have a goodnight.”

I hate the elf. I am resentful of it requiring so much additional effort, during a time of year that everything requires an an even more extraordinary amount of effort than any other time of year. I hate that it’s one extra thing to think about. I hate that it’s yet another responsibility on my already full plate of responsibilities and adulting. I hate everything about it, except for how happy it makes my kid.

She lives to wake up each morning, during the month of December, to find Sophia and see what she’s been up to while we sleep. She loves to write notes to Sophia, to talk to her and ask her questions about the North Pole and Santa and the reindeer. Sophia doesn’t respond, but that doesn’t matter. For my kid, Sophia is magic.

And I guess magic is pretty cool. But only for one month out of the year.