Energy Lessons

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A Healing Mantra

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Words are one of the most potent forms of practical magic we possess.

With simple word choice, we can either buoy our brain and body or quite literally flood ourselves with anxiety-inducing hormones. It turns out that self-talk really does matter and that the words we choose affect how we experience our reality.

Using intentional affirmations and mantras has been a go-to practice for me for over 20 years. Long before I knew the neuroscience of word choice, I took refuge in positive sayings simply because it made me feel better. When I consciously center myself in high-frequency phrases, I notice that I’m better able to manage anxiety, stress, depression and the general overwhelm of being human.

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Charting the Map to Your Heart

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I ripped open the box like a kid tearing through their presents on Christmas morning. As I peeled back the cardboard, I gasped in delight. Running my hand across the cover I felt tears puddle in my eyes.

The book opened with a crack, and that fresh-from-the-printer smell whooshed across my face. I flipped through the table of contents and lingered on the first few paragraphs of the introduction. I knew the words by heart, but seeing it bound hit differently. 

By the time I found the acknowledgements, tears were sliding down my cheeks. With my hand pressed against my heart, I read the words out loud: 

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If You're Feeling Lonely, Sad, or Discouraged

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I've been deeeeep in my feelings lately.

Maybe it's the hot summer days listening to Taylor Swift croon on repeat or Eliza's refrains from Hamilton playing endlessly on my heart, but your girl has been properly angsty over here.

Like, rivaling-my-tween-daughter angsty. 

I sat in the car with my husband yesterday vulnerably confiding in him about the waves of anxiety and the random streams of tears plaguing me recently. He grabbed my hand and said gently,

"Have you asked your guides for help?"

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A Message from the Other Side: How to Allow the Unexpected

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I did a reading this week with a beloved client of six years. She and I have done over 20 readings together, and at this point meeting with her feels more like play than work.

We’ll call this woman Rebecca.

Rebecca wasn’t a “woo-woo” person when I first met her, and working with someone like me was 100% out of her wheelhouse. But she was in a tough spot in life and desperately needed some guidance.

One of the things I love about working with Rebecca is her willingness to trust the process and surrender to the unknown.

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A Message from the Other Side: Body Image

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Recently I met with a client in her early 70s. We’ll call her Jane.

Jane’s energy was warm and inviting. She was a mother-hen-type who naturally cared for others. Jane’s passion was food. She owned a catering business, had been a culinary arts teacher and found great joy in feeding people.

Right off the bat, Jane proclaimed, “I’ve always had a weight issue, which is a problem because my passion is food.”

As her words landed, there was this hard stop in my body. It felt like hitting a brick wall.

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Feel Good As Hell in Your Body...Right Now

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So, I literally just danced around my living room to Lizzo’s song Good As Hell on repeat three times because, for the love of cheese, I’m feeling fucking good as hell. I just had two smashingly great calls with my e-course students, I’m headed to Chicago tomorrow for a weekend retreat (where I’m the student, not the teacher - Holla!!!!!), and I’m wearing my new favorite underwear from Aerie.

I mean, does life get any better?

And as I was booty shaking on the back of my sofa and slapping my own ass, I wasn’t thinking about how my thighs could be firmer or my waist could be smaller. I was laughing out loud and thinking how great it felt to be jumping and singing at the top of my lungs for the motherfucking JOY OF IT.

The Secret to Life: How to Give Less Fucks and Feel Better

Okay, with a title like that, I feel the need to cut right to the chase. Because for fuck’s sake, there’s nothing worse than being strung along while you’re waiting for someone to just. get. to. the. point.

(That was me yesterday watching one of those ridiculous free webinars and yelling at the lady on my screen to just tell me the motherflippin’ content already.)

So here it goes….

Your Personal Responsibility Backpack

When my husband, my daughter and I go on outings that my daughter isn’t particularly excited about, I always tell her she can pack whatever will bring her joy in her backpack.

Sometimes she crams her backpack full of markers and paper and fidget spinners and random doodads. Other times she grabs a single book or some music and her headphones. Every now and then she brings nothing at all and decides to try giving life a go without outside entertainment.

The point is that each time she asks herself what she needs, takes the time to pack it up, and then pulls it out at just the right moment.

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Why I'm Done Chasing the Light

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It’s the middle of the night here. Our windows are open to let in the cool mountain air, and the only sounds I can hear are the crickets chirping outside and the refrigerator humming behind me.

It’s been a full week of birthday revelry as my daughter turned seven just a few days ago, and I feel like perhaps it’s the first truly quiet moment I’ve offered myself in a string of days. Time to reflect, to ruminate, to deeply contemplate. Time to exhale and take it all in.

My heart has felt like it’s been split wide open lately. I’ve found myself verging on tears at the least little thing, (I’m looking at you, new Lion King, I mean, I ALREADY KNEW Mufasa was going to die, but damn), and I’ve been so acutely aware of that deep, cavernous space in my chest that houses my heart.

It aches.