Black Clouds and Sunflowers

The turkey has been carved and eaten, and the year is winding down. After holiday gatherings, I find my thoughts wandering to things that have happened since last year's festivities. During 2018, I have made a project out of myself. (I'm pretty much always doing that, but this year had extra intention.) In January, I wrote about my word of the year being "core". I was determined to know my own core, mostly so I could figure out how to move around in this lifetime to the tune of universal flow. All the opinions, values, perspectives, all the habits and all the programming, had to come out into the open so I could peer beneath them and see what was at the heart of it all. At first I thought that I would be spending a lot of time by myself. And the universe said, "Gurl, how you expectin' to grow ya mind if ya only ever in ya mind?!" Fo' real!! I enrolled in a mondo self-care regimen to go along with this undertaking: I started therapy, regularly r...

I did a glorious workshop last week, led by a new friend that 2017 bestowed upon me. Carole Ann is a leadership counselor and life coach (find her at PenneyLeadership.com ), and has been a wonderful person to bond with as we waded through some super shit this past year. She holds an annual workshop about finding your word of the year, something you can keep with you to guide your way and remind yourself of goals you might have. I liked the idea of it, so I went, drank tea, conversed with fabulous women, and took home some worksheets and reminders. While many of the women had found their word for 2018 that night, mine took a whole freakin' week to settle in. Core. I debated about "commitment", "center", "anchor", but feel much more at peace with "core". Core has no anxiety attached to it like "commitment" does. "Center" felt too ambiguous after a while, the word is associated with so much. "Anchor" was a nic...

It may be scary, but that’s only because it matters. Found that lovely little quote in an article today, and had one of those "aha!" moments. Finally, words to describe my feelings. Sometimes I embrace change. I'm pretty good at it in my professional life, for example. I've gotten comfortable with tearing head first into a new job and picking all the juicy fruits of the labor. Quite the variety of fruit over the years, but I've delved so far into myself through it, and have grown so much. It used to be scary, but now it's not. Even saying hello to an old boss the other night at my current job, where he thought I ran the place, was enough proof that I've probably even exceeded my own expectations at this stage of my life. Excuse me while I pat myself on the back for fighting so hard to get here. Other times, I do not embrace change. Or I at least don't go down without a fight. I have a really hard time with intimacy, platonic or otherwise. ...

Dear Client, Admittedly, I was nervous about our appointment. I know that your body cannot handle the kind of massage I prefer to give, simply because older bodies tend to me more fragile than those of well-trained athletes. But I refuse to let my preference for working out a rehabbed shoulder girdle get in the way of learning something from every client. So I met you with an open mind. And let me tell you, our session was one of my favorites to date. You are not the kind of client to bliss out, maybe snooze a little, only respond to my voice when it's absolutely necessary. No, you wanted to spend the whole time getting to know each other. You asked me a thousand questions at least. Normally, I only give out bare-minimum answers. Yesterday, I decided to be a human as well as a massage therapist, and offer conversation right back. Turns out, you were quite interested in who I am as a person. All in one hour, you learned where I'm from, told me my high school has a great ...

I've become fascinated with the idea that there is a difference between an artist and a craftsman. I'm mid-way through Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain, in which he describes his life's work in restaurants. It's rather funnier than I anticipated, and riddled with brutally honest truth about the industry, especially in the Northeast. All this entertainment, and I'm still struck by the fact that he chose to make a distinction between an artist and a craftsman: When he assembles a team for his line, he would rather have a cook who can crank out dishes quickly and consistently and takes pride in this ability (craftsman) instead of a cook who becomes inspired to throw a sprig of rosemary in of his own accord (artist) and potentially ruin everything. I have always thought of cooking as a sort of art, but I had never put concentrated thought into the craftsmen who can recreate the chef's art with stunning precision and regularity. Having been immersed in r...

January is a bizarro month for me. Winter does that snowy thing, hot tea and a book are always more inviting than traipsing in the cold, and every year without fail, I get RESTLESS despite choosing to hole myself up. Late to the resolution party, but in time for Imbolc, I've made some goals for myself this year: 1. Graduate. Perhaps "duh". But I'm really looking forward to channeling my passion for anatomy, movement, and solving puzzles into what's turning out to be a great love for sports massage therapy. 2. Run 5 miles and pretend it doesn't suck. I've never particularly liked running, but I always feel awesome afterward. I kind of just want to see if I can train myself over the 3-mile self-imposed limit. 3. Climb a V5. Outside. And finish it - none of that "4 moves and I'm done" nonsense. 4. Buy a new car. All by myself. Cha-ching! 5. Travel. Chicago is a possibility this year, as is a road trip if that car works out well. Y...

Patterns are interesting things. On the one hand, they help us make sense of the world - patterns allow us to group things, to categorize them, to understand their relationship to others. On the other... they just get really OLD. I'm particularly tired of seeking human connections at this moment. In my life thus far, I've been subjected to lying, sometimes to my face, sometimes by accident. I've been cheated on. I've been betrayed. I've been pushed down, called names, made to feel worthless, shamed, guilted, manipulated into someone else's idea of who I should be. I've taken abuse - physical, emotional, psychological, verbal - because I thought it was the right thing to do at one time. I've done some things I'm not proud of, just to try and pick myself up and drag myself over to a mirror, in an effort to identify what these pieces of me are so I can make a project out of sewing them all back together. Patterns - slightly different each time, bu...