Stepping Out.

"We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be." -Anne Lamott

It's become an annual tradition to visit Point Lobos on my birthday.  Described as "the greatest meeting of land and water in the whole world," it really is just that.  Hiking on those trails, breathing in the fresh ocean air, hearing the waves crash against the rocks, and noticing the various hues of turquoise blue made me feel more alive and acutely aware of all my senses.    

Sand Hill Cove

Standing on those rocks also reminded me of my own humanity- a mere speck in the vast, grander scheme of the universe, but a soul in a body that knows what it's like to ache and break and breathe and heal.

Cypress Grove stairs

Yesterday I came across this quote- "The vision must be followed by the venture.  It is not enough to stare up the stairs- we must step up the stairs."  It was timely, because today I stepped out of my comfort zone.  With the encouragement and helpful advice from friends, I climbed those stairs.  I traded in my usual introverted, clinical nutrition computer charting hat for my more extroverted, lively, passionate public speaking hat.  Scared? A little.  Nervous? Sure, of course.  Excited? Oh, heck yeah!  This morning I used a tactic I normally use to psyche myself up for extremely long and daunting bike rides- I consciously made the choice to turn my fear into excitement.  And it worked.  

What a privilege it was to share my love and knowledge of nutrition with receptive individuals.  People who were open, authentic, truthful.  People who genuinely wanted to raise the bar on their own health and wellness.  I listened.  We talked.  And it wasn't all about fiber and green vegetables.  We spoke about how to inject more kindness and tenderness and mindfulness and gratitude into every breathe, every choice, every meal, every bite.  Because really, there's so much more to food than just the food.  

Yes, folks, we were able to get to that level.

It wasn't a hat that I would have initially chosen for myself, but today showed me that different can be beautiful.  This hat just may be a permanent part of my outfit...I'm smiling widely in the mirror and I know one thing for sure- it's not going to be hung up anytime soon. 

Birthday Eve Musings...

"I decided that the single, most subversive revolutionary thing I could do was to show up for my life and not be ashamed." 

-Anne Lamott

Las Trampas sunrise...

Today I really showed up for my life, released a lot of baggage and heavy rocks that I had been carrying around for years.  It was the necessary emotional and spiritual kick-in-the-pants that I needed, and now I feel lighter and freer.

It's my birthday eve as well, and today it occurred to me- this year has been good.  Actually, really really good.

I've finally stopped training.

And I've finally started living.

Grateful for everything I've learned in these 33 years of life, and looking ahead with bright eyes and a big smile for all that life has in store.  Onwards and upwards...  

WCW.

Winter writing.

"Writers are great lovers. They fall in love with other writers. That's how they learn to write. They take on a writer, read everything by him or her, read it over again until they understand how the writer moves, pauses, sees. That's what being a lover is: stepping out of yourself, stepping into someone else's skin."
-Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within

It's Wednesday.

In officially honoring WCW (who comes up with these anyways?) Natalie Goldberg, I choose you.  

Start Where You Are.

Start where you are.

It's the best advice, really.  It's asking a lot to make someone who is used to eating 3 fast-food meals a day to immediately adopt an organic plant-based diet.  So we start small.  We weave a green smoothie bursting with vital nutrients and raw energy into their day, and allow them to eat the rest of the meals however they desire.  It's interesting to watch the shift.  They feel better from that one single change, and this starts them on a new trajectory towards better health and well-being.  First fix the food- then watch in amazement how the other areas in their life unfolds.

Start where you are.  I love that.  It also applies in meditation, as Susan Piver writes:

In meditation, it is not helpful to be mad at yourself for the inability to be peaceful.  Start where you are.  Start with sorrow.  Start with rage.  Start with boredom/anxiety.  Start with high hopes.  Start with disappointment.  Start with your very own body, breath, and mind.  Your experience IS the practice.  There is nowhere else to go.  Within your own experience, the entire path can be found.

This is something I'm still learning to grasp.  Letting go of expectations, enjoying this precious moment, unattached from outcomes.  It's been a process of teaching my spirit to not be defined by external constructs and labels.  To be unattached from my annual income.  To be unattached from the notions of being a homeowner or a mother or a wife.  To be unattached from a certain number on the scale. 

Because really, we have everything we need, right here, right now.  We were born complete, with abundant love, joy, grace and creativity.

When you start where you are, sometimes you realize that where you are is just where you need to be.

When that happens, you can finally relax.

And be yourself. 

Be Merry and Bright.

I never took anti-depressants.  Because I had spin class.  We first met each other there, in that sweaty, hot room, two lonely people- escaping our momentary realities for an hour.  That lovely hour served as a dark refuge, where we sweated off our worries and heartache at 100 rpms.

The holes and voids we each harbored in our own hearts from past hurts remained open and raw.  We were shadow companions- two empty souls desperately trying to fill a space of another person we could never be.  We allowed the charades to continue because it felt comfortable and safe and we were both still so fragile and afraid of being cracked wide open again.  He would sleep soundly and sometimes snore, so I would go and sit by the window, looking out, feeling so incredibly alone.  It was cold, so I would wrap my arms around my legs.  I would cry.  I wanted him to wake up and comfort me, but he never did.

One day while he was at work, I decided to surprise him by cleaning his entire house.  He always joked about hiring a maid.  I was willing to play housewife.  I vacuumed, dusted, scrubbed the toilets and the showers, perhaps symbolically trying to cleanse us both from all the debris and dirt and grime from our similar pasts. 

As I brushed the sweaty strands of hair from my face and pushed the heavy vacuum back and forth to make symmetrical lines in the carpet, I heard it, shrill and loud- 

"HEATHER!  HEATHER!!"

My God.  I never liked that parrot, but now I hated him.  His parrot continued to scream and call out his ex's name while I finished vacuuming, the anger rising in me with every vacuum line emblazoned into the carpet.

In that moment it became crystal clear that I did not belong there.  I did not belong in this relationship.  Here I was, cleaning and trying so desperately hard to be loved, needed, wanted, cherished- and the sign, oh, it was so loud and clear.

Shortly after the parrot incident, the dust settled- literally and figuratively- on our relationship. We reached a point where we discovered it was much more draining to stay in something that felt superficial and convenient than dealing with the deeper, darker Truths that held the key to our freedom.  

I can only smile, smile lovingly, at my former self who knew no other way during those months than to stay.  Who had no other sense than to quietly endure and rationalize and sit with the suffering.  Who somehow thought that the persevering could negate the way she failed in her other relationships.  But sometimes staying is more painful than leaving.

I learned a powerful lesson during this time-  It's futile to spend any excess energy on someone whose ghosts of past relationships continue to echo in their hearts (or in their homes).  Pack up your cleaning supplies, you Merry Maid, and move on your merry way.

A Potter and His Clay.

Long exhale.
Boxes upon boxes of ceramics have been unpacked, priced and displayed.  Four years of ceramics, to be more exact.

I watched as my dad carefully inspected each one, explaining to me the special glaze he used.  I heard terms like "wabi-sabi" and a technique called "chattering" that produced a jagged but beautiful texture on the outside of the pot.  This isn't Crate and Barrel.  There are no matching 'sets.'  Each was uniquely crafted... formed, shaped and glazed as his hands and his heart felt inspired.  

My dad is soulful, real, authentic and true.  And so is his work.

Hope to see you at their house from 9-3pm tomorrow...

Gifts.

"If you are not afraid of the voices inside of you, 

you will not fear the critics outside you."  

-Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones

Thank you, P, for the gift of this sunset and for books to help me get my insides down on the page.  I'm forever grateful.