the compulsive need to prove
The voice of, "but who will like me if I don't .... " shows up as a constant need to prove our worth in order to belong. We may not consciously believe that we should have to "do stuff" to feel that we have value, but when the pressure is on, or something really matters, this core insecurity can creep into the driver's seat.
for those who are letting go
If you are in the throes of letting go, it can feel like without warning the seams of your world are coming apart. As they split, your own skin is removed too. What is revealed, is tender and unsure. The ground below, once a steady predictability you rarely gave a second thought, now wobbles and shifts.
Perhaps you sigh more hoping to lift some of this heaviness. Or maybe you hold regrets that intermittently darken your gaze.
navigating the unexpected
As our emotional landscape tries to settle, internally we may feel like we're in freefall. We're dropping, dropping, dropping, and as we reach for the world that once felt "under control" its construction reveals itself as paper thin. There's nothing to hold on to.
From this perilous place, we vacillate between a desire to recreate or "get back" what's been lost and total collapse. In our body a hot buzz of anxiety grips our throat and belly while at the same time we may feel heavy, dull, and uninspired.
an invitation to holding complexity
Because thanksgiving is holiday that's rooted in a painful history, we may focus only on what is wrong with it. We feel judgement of those who celebrate, or guilt about our own desire to participate. I believe this day is really about learning to hold complexity.
a tale of racial imposter syndrome
In the Salt Lake City suburb where I grew up, surrounded by whiteness and conservative values, when my “friends” called me an Oreo, I thought this was a good thing. They were saying I was like them, right? White on the inside?
why i care
I believe your body holds wisdom that is essential for creating the world we all deserve to live in – you know, where no one must hustle or compete to meet their basic needs, where all bodies are deemed valuable and every being has ample space for rest and ease. My intention is not that this sounds like a lot of pressure, but I do get it if holding such power makes you feel a little anxious.
braving the spiral
For several weeks now an injury has kept me from moving my body in the ways I like to move. I'm not able to sweat, or jump or engage in any kind of vigorous activity.
I'm noticing my body is softer -- my breasts more full, my belly more round -- and I'm uncomfortable that this has made me uncomfortable.
a new myth
The day the colonizers came, when they looked upon our people it was like staring into the sun. They were so bright. So alive. So gifted. It was painful. The presence of such brilliance was intolerable to these men. It scorched their skin and illuminated their wounds festering with hate, violence and greed.
what is beyond one body
I did not sleep well last night. There is a heaviness in the air, and I can feel my mind trying to move through it.
It wants to do the right thing. It wants to do the helpful thing. It wants to be assured that it's good and of service.
This is a place I know well. I call it the spinning place. Round and round I go trying to undo what cannot be undone. The more heartbreaking the events that have occurred, the more destabilized I feel.
letting ourselves bend
In watching the storms today, I’m reminded that it is our ability to “not do” that reveals our strength. As the world swirls, we can bravely stand in the midst of all that turbulence and declare this act as simply enough. For marginalized bodies, this in itself is a political action. As Audre Lord reminds us, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”