Unemployed Taxi Driver

It’s the end of an era.

I’ve been relieved of my duties.

I no longer have to live out of my car. The goldfish crumbs have been vacuumed out. No more finger-print-smiley-faces on the back windows. I no longer referee the continuous fight over “my turn” in the front seat. While there was never a meter, the miles I tick off are solo ones and my playlist blasts the speakers as I sing alone. The bones of my schedule are no longer kept by plans & whims of minors.

I’m free. (Violently sobs)

Yes, I know. You might want to remind me I’ve been dreaming of this day. The day I get to come straight home after work or go meet my friends for dinner without juggling carpool duties.

When my plans get top billing in my calendar, rather than fitting them in on an off day from my taxi responsibilities.

What I didn’t process or devote thought to was this all too familiar feeling of detachment. Oh yes, I recognize it…my first exposure was on the first day of preschool when my babies went running off into a stranger’s classroom with smiles on their faces while the office staff offered me tissues. I’ve also felt this feeling when I handed two sleeping bags to a very kind Girl Scout leader who assured me she would take care of these girls like her own (doubt it echoed in my mind even though she was as sweet and capable as can be). And again this hallowed gut took me for a ride the morning my girls stepped onto a bus to head to the far away land of Chicago for 3 days without me.

This is not new territory! Except now they are driving with the rest of the unconscious lunatics on the road without my voice reminding them to “BREAK”.

The conflict of this new land of equal parts terror and liberation is crippling. I’ve always enjoyed my alone time, however alone time usually occurred when my daughters were safely tucked away somewhere rather than rolling down the highway.

I haven’t even addressed the worst part. It has recently come to my attention that these children I’ve been driving around all over the city & country will be living an entire life all on their own in less than 2 years.

How the *%#k is that possible?!

Why did no one prepare me for this?

From the time you tell someone you are pregnant, the free, unsolicited advice faucet begins to flow with no shut-off valve. People were so focused on:

“you’ll never sleep again”

“breast-fed or bottle”

“co-sleeping or not”

“better find a good school”

“year-around sports or tutors”

Everyone forgot to mention “by the way, these babies who need you for everything are just on loan, they aren’t even really yours, they belong to themselves, so don’t get too attached because they will drive away from you one day and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Well too damn late!

A dear friend of mine recently told me she remembers who I was before being a mother better than I do. I could not argue. I’ve spent the last 16 and half years with the hat of motherhood on a majority of the time. This is not a martyr moment, just one of awareness and pride. Being a mom is my greatest accomplishment. I am proud of how hard I “mom” and how I manage this role. The work & dedication required to be the mom I wanted to be is my accomplishment. I did that. I set the table for them to be who they are. And I am so very proud of that. Who my daughters are, are not the accomplishment. That is their accomplishment, not mine.

I am starting to remember who I was too. I remember I am a woman who enjoys her own company. I am a reader. A writer. An advocate. I love going to the movies and being outdoors. I am a wife who enjoys hanging with her husband. I am a good friend to have who loves being around the ones I love. I have a lot of hats that have been waiting for me to put back on or to try on for the first time. I remember I have a lot left to accomplish all on my own.

So I find myself at yet another transition. I am an unemployed taxi driver. I have a set of skills and a service that is no longer employable. When we are faced with change, we have a choice on how to manage:

  1. Fight it. Wish for what used to be. Shutdown.
  2. Accept it. Find gratitude for the process and experiences you were privileged to have. Open your mind to the new possibilities.

After the shock of being fired from my driving responsibilities has worn off, I’ve found new ways to spend my time. I’ve found new ways to connect with daughters since windshield time is few and far between. I continue to stalk Life360, but not as much as I did week one of living with 2 new drivers.

As I look toward the next 2 years and wonder how in the world I am going to handle when these girls drive away to a new home where I do not live, I am reminded of what my friend told me about stages in parenting. She said that I am not ready for this, because it is not time yet. She gave me the gift of patience when anxiety tries to take control. When we aren’t ready for something, it usually means it’s not time yet. And…if it IS time, trust yourself because you are ready for it.

I take a deep breath and practice mindfulness today because tonight they will sleep under the same roof as me and we get many more moments together before any of us are ready for that transition. Maybe now that I’ve experienced this loss, I can let myself collect the experiences and time necessary for my next job loss and embrace the possibilities that may bring too.

What Are You Missing with Skipping?

Do you hit “skip intro” when you stream a show? Or even skip the recap?

Do you chose watching 15-second reels instead of the whole movie just to get a gist of the plot?

Do you prefer to read a book or a blog? No judgement- blogs are great 😉

Have you thought about the pace in which we intake information and entertainment?

Recently a friend brought to my attention the difference in a show that was written and filmed to be watched episodically rather than binged and it got me thinking about how I intake everything.

I am currently watching a show that has been released episodically and the series finale is coming up this week. With this knowledge I found myself intentionally watching the intro, listening to the song and going through the recap every week. Why? I believe because I am savoring the end of something I enjoy. I want to revel in the small details and be intentional about enjoying the full story of characters I’ve grown to love.

This got me thinking…what if I implemented this in other areas of my life?

What if I was intentional about the food I eat? The glass of wine I enjoy?

What would happen if I savored the interactions with my family and friends in the same way I am with fictional characters of a show that is ending?

Would I be more intentional if I knew this would be my last glass of pinot noir or peanut butter and chocolate ice cream cake?

And what if I knew it was the last time I got to hug my mother? Or laugh with my friends or kiss my husband?

Many years ago I met a very wise older lady who taught me a lot about relationships and how navigate my emotions rather than let my emotions control me. I was mad at my husband…more like furious…I vented for as long as the breath in me would allow and ran out. And when I gasped for air to begin again, she replied, “you know what I think you should do?”

“Well, of course I would like to know! Why do you think I am here and out of breath?”

She smiled kindly with a little hint of sass and told me, “I would treat him like you knew it was his last day on earth.”

Of course I hated that answer! I wanted justice for however I felt he had wronged me. However, this woman I respected and learned so much from had never led me wrong before so I huffed and shook my head in agreement and went home and did as she told me. The thought of his last day brought tears to my eyes. I was mad at him but today I don’t even remember why, but nothing was more important than loving him.

I’ve used that filter for my thoughts more than once over the years and it still guides me in the right direction each time.

I’ve lost people I love. That pain has filleted me wide open and takes much effort to begin to heal. Since I know this pain, I know the importance of being intentional with my time and my love. This is not a perfect practice for me, though it is one I strive for.

Today I write this post from my desk at my bedroom window watching the snow cover my street. I have plenty I need to get accomplished, however Mother Nature had other plans. I intentionally turned my desk so I could watch the snow come down while I worked. I am intentionally slowing down and hibernating a bit. Maybe that is what Mother Nature’s intention was with this huge snow fall.

I started a new novel a couple of days ago knowing this storm was coming so I could sit and read rather than scroll social media aimlessly. (I’m almost finished with it-The Housemaid is fantastic).

I watched a movie with my husband without screening the highlights on reels.

I cooked a meal for my family, which is not something I usually enjoy, however this time I reminded myself how grateful I am to have a family to cook for, in a home with power and heat and ingredients that I can afford.

I sat down to write this post with the intention of sharing that while life gives a lot to juggle, and rather than “having” to do it, maybe it’s helpful to remember that I “get” to do it. Also, just because life happens fast and we try to shove as much as we can into every second does not mean you don’t have the option to slow down and be present.

This week I will watch the finale of my show along with the intro and probably sing the theme song I know by heart and even watch the credits because I want to experience this end with intention. Entertainment and art are important creations made with intention. I plan to be more present with this.

There is so much power in intention when I chose to take the time to practice it.

Three F-words

Fight, Flight or Freeze. All responses to trauma. Three F-words for three distinct buckets of reactions to when we perceive we are in danger. Notice the use of the word “perceive”. It is there for a reason because I do not have to be facing death for my brain to believe I am in danger and act accordingly.

Fighting can mean the literal definition of the word. A use of force to escape death (or perceived death). It can also mean fighting against the truth, being in denial or refusal to accept the reality of your situation.

Flight is leaning into the escape from the pain. Some actually run away from the pain and flee the scene. Some drink (or whatever substance of choice) away the pain. The point of fleeing is avoiding the cards you have been dealt and essentially outrun the pain that is sure to follow.

Freezing is a newer addition to the F-word trio of responses, though it does not mean it is a new reaction. Freezing is playing dead. Flat-faced and disconnected from what is happening. Freezing stops you in your tracks and prevents you from feeling what is happening to you.

I’ve worked with trauma, personally and professionally, for many years. Again, notice my use of the words “worked with”. We do not fix or cure trauma; we work to alleviate the symptoms caused by traumatic experiences. There are many evidenced based interventions that have proven ways to treat reactions to trauma, however trauma is not cured. Trauma becomes a part of us.

I am certified in Accelerated Resolution Therapy (ART), which is an intervention that alleviates the symptoms of trauma. (Yes, actually dissolves the symptoms due to the traumatic experience). ART allows the individual to open up the part of the brain that decides which response has the best chance of survival. (Again, remember our brain has perceived a dangerous situation and self-preservation is the goal). ART allows us to change the emotions attached to the traumatic event. We keep the facts and we change our reaction. Now that we are away from the perceived danger, our brain allows us to change how the story was filed.

For example, when I participated in an ART intervention I used the experience of the night my father died and the emotions attached to that story. The experience, while intense, allowed me to let go of the fear associated with that loss. My father died 30 years ago. I remember every detail of the night when he was rushed to the hospital, even down to the memory of my father’s wedding band being on my mother’s finger when she came home from the hospital, which was the very first indicator he was gone. I remember it all. However, what I no longer carry is the fear associated with not having my father on this earth. Who would protect us? Who would provide for us? What does life look like without a dad?

ART allowed me to release the fear.

I miss my dad every day. There will always be grief in my heart for the man who raised me for fourteen years and taught me so much love. And after all this time, I can find peace with the grief being a part of me instead of the fear controlling me.

As a fourteen-year-old girl, I fought the reality of my father’s death. I fought the fear by trying to control it. I fought all the pain I felt by trying to be perfect in every other aspect of my life. If I could just make everything else be “okay” then I would not have to face the fear of being vulnerable, unprotected and the unknown instability of being down a parent.

Trauma does not need you to beat it. You merely have to learn to live with the trauma, accepting its place in your story. You by no means must accept the negative symptoms of trauma reactions. That is where interventions and treatment can be life-changing measures.

Very recently, I was triggered and experienced a trauma reaction. Not a welcomed experience nor one I have been forced to face for a long time. The experience caused me to freeze this time. My fear paralyzed me. For me, this frozen state looked like lack of emotion, disconnection with those close to me, sleepless nights and the inability to focus.

Because I had the experiences from my past and the knowledge of treating trauma reactions, I was able to identify these symptoms quickly and lean into what I know to be true: this too shall pass. I knew my brain had a perceived threat and chose to freeze as the best course of action for self-preservation. I leaned into the interventions that bring me back to a baseline and filter my thoughts instead of hanging onto the fears I know are not certain truth.

Life continues to happen all around us, all the time. Trauma and the possibility of triggers are not able to be controlled. The symptoms most certainly can be treated and alleviated. It’s not time that heals, it’s our intention to do so that does.

I share this today because trauma is complicated. There are so many interventions available to help. Instead of worrying about what’s the right one, start with your intention to heal. That is the most important decision of all. Trauma takes our control, and we can take it back just as long as we are willing to be vulnerable enough to ask for help.

Defying Gravity

I, like many, went to the movies to witness Wicked on the big screen. I’ve seen the Broadway show two times before with my mother and daughters. I can barely hear the song Defying Gravity without tears streaming down my face and clenched fists as I mouth the words to the closing line (it’s empowering…I suggest you look it up, give it a listen and try not to do the same thing). However, this is not a post with the purpose of reviewing the adaptation. (It was absolutely phenomenal for the record, tears and all!).

The beautiful lessons woven throughout the story are not new to anyone.

  1. Don’t judge a book by its cover.
  2. Not everything is as it seems.
  3. Those in power are not always to be trusted.
  4. Be kind first.

The lesson that was specifically stated in the movie and one that hit so hard for me was a direct quote. “The best way to bring folks together, is to give them a really good enemy.”

As an avid sports fan and a die-hard Louisville Cardinal fan, I have a lot of hate for opposing teams, particularly the Kentucky Wildcats. I enjoy sharing my hate for the Wildcats with other Louisville fans so the idea is not far-fetched or one I have not participated in. The reality of people needing an enemy to come together is terrifying and plays out more often than we care to believe.

Giving a target to aim your blame may feel comforting in the moment. It allows you to relinquish your responsibility. Blaming someone else for what happens to you is a get out of jail free card. The lack of accountability lifts the weight of self-reflection and acceptance.

That is not to say that you are to blame for everything that has happened to you. Life just happens. We are dealt cards all the time that are not of our choosing, but it does not mean someone else is to blame. There are struggles and hardships that are blameless, which can be the most frustrating of all.

I’ve found that when I function out of fear, I give myself a false start. Fear pushes me in the wrong direction and limits my options immediately. Fear’s purpose is self-preservation which is very helpful when my life is in danger. However, fear does not account for multiple choice. Fear forces me to the option that has the highest chance of my survival. However, survival is not always my focus. What if I prefer to thrive instead?

Let’s take a quick look back at the other four lessons from wicked. If I do not assume or judge someone based on what they look like and function with the understanding that everything is not always as it seems and realize that just because someone in power proclaims it that does not ensure it is the truth and most importantly when in doubt I practice kindness, there is no room left for fear.

This is not a new tactic to use nor a new lesson to learn. So why are we still using and learning this lesson over and over again?

We do not live in Pleasantville and I am not PollyAnna. We do not have to support, enjoy or even like everyone. I have people I hate. Hate takes energy, but sometimes I believe that energy is well spent. What I know to be true is, I can trust myself in knowing when it is time to let go of the hate. Hate alone doesn’t affect the focus of my energy. If I hate someone without action, they may walk around in blissful ignorance without a thought of me or my hate for them.

It’s when people take action on their hate that pulls us into a war we did not necessarily signup for. Being assigned an enemy and taking action is how actual war is engaged. Let’s take notice on how those assigning the enemies don’t actually ever seem to be doing any of the “hating” or fighting. Interesting…

(Another great quote from the musical/movie: Elphaba says to the Wizard “You have no real power.” – they never do, do they?)

I will continue my fair share of trash-talking when it comes to sports. It’s fun with no real hate for the individual I am talking to. I do plan to check myself and my motivations for how I look at others. Without guidance would we ever even look at people through the filter of us-vs-them? How many people even realize the notion of being “them” to your “us”?

There is a difference in not understanding someone and hating someone (or a group of someones). Just because I do not understand something, doesn’t mean it is wrong or opposing to me. While I trust myself, I may need to filter my thoughts and emotions through another great quote from the show Ted Lasso. “Be curious, not judgmental.”

I will try listening to understand and refrain from engaging in war just because I’m afraid or I’ve been assigned an enemy. I will look for ways to connect with others based on our humanness rather than hatred. One of my favorite ways to do that is through art, like after a really great movie that moved me to tears.  

Best Christmas Picture Ever

Shocking news…The Holidays are Tough

As we approach this week and kick off the holiday season, my stress levels begin to bubble and rise along with the amount of times Mariah Carey is played on the radio. The increase in extended family time with people I love but do not interact with on the regular as well as the search for gifts to simply fill a spot on my shopping list are added to my ruminating thoughts playlist that kicks off around 3am.

With so much to do, who has time to enjoy this most wonderful time of the year? NO ONE!

My unpopular opinion of the desire to fast-forward to January 2nd is on the rise. Many of us are tired of the hurry up, keep buying, smile-and-hug-people-I-haven’t-seen-since-last-year and for-the-love-of-god-take-the-picture themes of the holiday season. We shove so much into these few weeks that we begin the new year exhausted, broke and bloated.

As someone who is not a fan of winter, I am trying to embrace the hibernating bear lifestyle (turn inward and rest). The pressure of the perfect holiday shoves me right out of resting bitch face and directly into elevated anxiety bitch face. Holiday commercials suggest that throwing a bow on anything makes it all better. Well, a bow on a pile of crap is still a pile of crap.

And let’s not forget what the holidays also highlight…those who are not here with us to celebrate. For many of us, there are empty chairs at the dinner table and stockings with no owners. We have a hole in traditions that cannot be filled and that is hard to swallow along with all of the cheer.

What if we turned it down a notch? Maybe there is a little less on the calendar and a little more time to be present. Maybe it is not about the perfect gift, but maybe sharing gratitude that you get to be together. There are many reasons why families spend the holidays apart. Whether by choice or necessity, so many struggle with being present for all the presents. Let’s avoid making asses out of ourselves by assuming everyone is joyfully spending this time of year together.

So maybe this year the theme is cheerful acceptance. Acceptance for the moment and what that entails, the good and even the uncomfortable. Having 25 people in a two-bedroom condo (this was how we did the holidays with my husband’s grandmother years ago) is not comfortable, however today I think back fondly on those sweaty meals because she is gone now and I miss her. She was the happiest person there having all of her people crammed together and celebrating. It wasn’t comfortable, but it did not harm anyone and her home was full of love, good food and laughter.

Acceptance of boundaries. Maybe forcing our kids to sit on the lap of a strange man in a costume, telling him their greatest desires and smiling is not the best lesson. Maybe if they say they are uncomfortable or afraid we can try a new approach. With the same token, maybe we can speak out what we need whether it is excusing ourselves a little early from the festivities or staying home altogether. We do not have to abide by the unwritten rules of the season if those rules do not serve us. This is less about getting our way or not and more about listening to each other respecting the fact that no single person knows best of all.

I vow to be mindful this season. I will be present in the moment. I will respect the wishes and desires of others. I promise to listen to understand rather than to respond. I will ask for what I need. I will prioritize my needs so I can show up when and where I can in the way I want to.

It does not have to be the most wonderful time of the year for me to celebrate and enjoy the time of year. I can survive and advance and relish in the normalcy of today rather than the glitter of unrealistic expectations.

I wish you the holiday season you need!

Brain Fog

I’ve been walking around in a state of fog. Words struggle to find each other. Straining to form a complete thought. Anxiety takes over and I shut down. The brain fog of anxiety and depression rolls in heavy and hangs low.

I live on the outskirts of the city, not quite country but with plenty of room for fog to roam along with the intuitive deer that I love to watch from my front porch. When I leave my house with heavy fog and the sky still dark, I go slow. I change the head light setting on my car to help me navigate the fog. I stay alert and mindful of what’s going on around me. I do this for my safety, the protection of whoever is in the car with me and for my spirit animals (the deer).

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve had multiple clients report brain fog as a symptom of anxiety and depression. Clients feeling as though they cannot make decisions. Folks struggling to carry on conversations or even function in their days. I too felt that strain this last week and it is terrible.

The blanket of despair covered me with heavy clouds of “who cares” sprinkled with “what’s the point”. When I had simple decisions to make about minimal issues, I felt stuck and could not make the choice. At one point, I just laid on the couch and watched a rerun of a show I’ve seen about 1200 times because I wanted comfort rather than to be entertained. The weight of the fog pulled me down and I let it. I sat in it.

I know feelings and emotions. I process all the feelings and all the emotions every day of my life for a living. I know the importance of having awareness and acknowledgement of feelings. I preach all the time about acknowledging how we feel and sitting in the uncomfortable feelings to allow them to do their job. However…it’s not so easy when the shoe (or emotion in this case) is on my foot.

I do not like feeling helpless, hopeless, angry and sad. I do not like “sitting it in” and letting the feelings do their job because it is uncomfortable. Feelings exist for a reason and if we run away from them before they have a chance to do what they are intended to, those uncomfortable feelings will follow us and we will lose any control we had over how those feelings manifest in our lives.

Have you ever had road rage or unloaded on someone who didn’t deserve it? Have you ever found yourself in tears for “no good reason”? (That is the effect of not letting uncomfortable feelings do their job – that is loss of control.)

So, when the uncomfortable comes. I will listen to my own words and sit in the shit. I will let sadness, anger, helplessness and pain do their business. I will have awareness of their presence and acknowledge their purpose (even when I do not know their purpose). I will not run away and avoid the pain. BUT I will also not stay there forever. I will not succumb to pain, only learn from it. Then, I will dose it with the best antidote…gratitude. I may even find gratitude for the uncomfortable which teaches me lessons to help me later.

And as the fog begins to lift (as well as my ass off the couch), I will push forward, change my headlight setting back to normal and I will keep going. I will take with me the lessons and I will be ready to do it again when the fog rolls in. And the fog will return because life is tough and pain is inevitable and each time I learn more to help me and those around me when we need it. And for that I have gratitude.

My Mind’s Highway and How I Travel

I prefer anger over grief. Anger gives me the illusion of control. “I am mad and let me tell you why!”

I have been known to hang on to grudges like tiny little birds. I keep them safely tucked away in their cages preventing the process of acceptance from occurring and letting go of what hurt me.

I am a great scorekeeper. I know who did what to me along with the date and location of injury. If I am angry, you earned it. These grudges were a direct result of me being in control rather than being taken advantage of. It is my god-given right to hold on and be mad. (Unfortunately, I am not referring to a time long, long ago…I am still evolving).

Anger is much easier to feel than grief.

Grief creeps up and tackles me out of nowhere. Grief does not have to give reasons for its presence, it just shows up and takes control over me. Grief is all consuming and irrational and messy.

Try catching a glimpse of yourself after an ugly cry. It’s not my best look.

Grief comes in many forms of feelings…sadness, anger, fear, and even shock. Grief is also not limited to death. Loss produces grief. The loss of someone. The loss of a way of life. The loss of something important to us whether anyone else can understand or not.

So why does it matter which we are experiencing? Grief or Anger? It matters because unless we are honest with ourselves and acknowledge our true emotions it is more difficult to find peace and healing. To go a step further, if we cannot find peace and healing then we will continue to compound each injury and amount of pain until we are ready to unload or implode. Neither of which are great options.

Our thoughts, much like our feelings, run through our minds like a highway. One thought followed by the next with no filter of facts. That is our job. Thoughts do not equal truths. We are responsible for examining our thoughts by holding them up to the light of reality to avoid the hamster wheel of spiraling into the abyss of overthinking and drowning in emotions.

This is NOT to say we are not entitled to our individual thoughts and feelings about everything, however do we really want to walk around with just our perspective? Our way of thinking about a situation is the only way? (Not that it wouldn’t be nice for a while, but how boring for any real length of time).

Acceptance does not require us to like whatever it is. We can be sad or mad or afraid or annoyed AND still accept life on life’s terms. When we can find a place of acceptance, we are better able to trust our thoughts and feelings. It is easier to find the light of reality and hold up whatever comes through our mind’s highway. The best part is finding peace and healing becomes actual options rather than far off lands of enlightenment we believe to be unachievable.

So how do you accept life on life’s terms? Do I have to just lay down and let life happen to me?

Absolutely not!

You can, however, change the things you can and let go of those you cannot. That is accepting life on life’s terms.

If something is bothering you, find a place to take action to change it. I may not have control over the United States Supreme Court and the decisions they make about what I can and cannot do with my body (which I feel anger, sadness, and fear about). I do have control over my response and reactions to their decisions. I have the power and ability to advocate for change and protest what I disagree with. I can educate my daughters on the importance of voting and being an active member in society.

On a smaller scale, I get pissed when people I trust disappoint me. I get angry (and sad) and I do not have control over how other people treat me. I do have control over who I let in my life and who I spend time with. I can find acceptance and even peace with people who have hurt me and grieve that loss as I heal.

When you are feeling overwhelmed and unsure of your emotions and maybe even distrustful of your thoughts, stop and take a moment to examine your mind’s highway. Be honest with yourself.

I would much rather be angry with someone who hurt me and call my girlfriends and tell them all about why I am mad and how I plan to harbor this resentment from now until the end of time. Though, if I am honest about what I am feeling I can acknowledge I grieve what I thought was friendship and the person I trusted. I accept that their behavior, not their words show me who they are, and I have choices on who I let in my life. That is life on life’s terms and that is the path to peace for me. I chose to travel that way.

And…Try Five for Five

Have you ever seen Parks and Recreation Tom and Donna’s “Treat Yo Self” day? If not, here is a brief backstory: two work friends literally do whatever they want for an entire day (it’s a great show – I highly recommend). Massages, shopping, extravagant dinners and cake are always involved. This practice is high octane self-care! And I love it!

However, it is ONE day in the year.

What happens when the day after Treat Yo Self day you have ten meetings and 200 emails with a sick kid and car trouble?

We must find ways throughout the day to dissolve the stress that comes with living. Self-care can be mini escapes or just pause buttons to ground ourselves in the moment because that is really all we have is this one moment at a time.

When I am drowning in stress and overwhelmed, change is a comforting thought. I know it cannot remain this way.

When I am relaxing on the beach without access to email knowing this cannot last forever, I am grateful for the moment and I ground myself in it so I don’t miss out.

How do I accomplish this you might ask…one technique I use is Five for Five. For five minutes, I go through my five senses and observe each in the moment. Best case scenario I do this outside, however my work environment doesn’t always allow for this and I do not have a window so I work with the surroundings I have. It really is that simple.

What do I see? Maybe the clouds if I am lucky or the sun shining bright. In my office, I see pictures of my daughters, flowers and a rainbow of colors.

What do I hear? In my office, I hear a white noise machine that sounds like ocean waves. Maybe I walk outside and hear a bird chirping.

What do I taste? In the morning, probably coffee with vanilla creamer or in between sessions wintergreen gum.

What do I smell? Most of the time my office has lavender floating around. Outside I might smell the fresh, brisk winter air or even the smell of rain rolling in.

What do I feel? How does that earth feel under my feet (this is when I usually question my shoe choice for the day)? Maybe chilly during the winter months or a flushed face after a tough meeting or session. I can also feel excited after good news or frustrated when things don’t go my way.

Going through this process puts me in this exact moment. I cannot time travel to the past or “what-if” myself into the future if I am focused on this moment and my senses.

That is the pause button that allows me time to breathe. That is self-care. That is grounding. That is dissolving the stress enough to take on what’s next. That is a practice I can do ten times a day if needed. Even though “Treat Yo Self” day is WONDERFUL, I also need to ground myself every day and maybe multiple times in a morning. Don’t stop Treating Yo Self, just start Grounding Yo Self too! Take 5 for 5 and give it a whirl.

Healing Through Storytelling

“In the end, we all become stories.” – Margaret Atwood

A good story sticks with you. A character you root for. A setting you find familiar. The story is the vehicle for the lesson shared.

The learned lesson imprints on my mind and soul when it occurs from a story. A cautionary tale which warns of the devastating effects of risky behavior or the how-to directions to decipher through a family recipe passed down through generations are meant to teach us something about ourselves. Whether through someone’s pain or triumph, the lesson remains with me because of the story.  

Whether it’s standstill traffic pissing them off or the agony of loss, as a therapist the story is my glimpse into their experience, their perspective. The lens of perspective is tinted with the individual’s identity, and it is that identity which shapes how they interrupt the world around them. Perspective is key in understanding.

Therapy is essentially three parts. Listening, Validating and Trusting.

Listening is just that, shutting our mouths and opening our ears. Listening to understand is empathizing with one’s perspective or position. Remaining present with the storyteller and holding the space for them to share important details is the active part of listening. It’s not difficult to spot the difference between waiting to speak and active, compassionate listening.

We all need to have our experiences validated. Validation does not require someone co-signing all our life’s decisions. It does allow for acceptance of our purpose. Contentment is finding peace and purpose in our day. That’s it. We all want to know our experience matters and to find a way to rest with solace at the end of the day.

Entrusting our stories and experiences to someone else is a sharing of ethical responsibility. When a person takes advantage of this human exchange, there is an immediate void in the experience. The storytelling then becomes a source of pain and doubt. Trust separates healers from predators.

I do not meet people on their finest day. Most people do not seek help from therapy when life is sunshine and rainbows 24/7. Most people come in hot with their hair on fire seeking answers to extinguish the flames.

Once a person travels the distance to find a therapist, schedule the appointment and then show up to the session they hope to find some relief by unloading the charred baggage at the feet of the authority on peace (who does not exist).

There is no answer waiting to be uncovered or classified document given out to therapists upon graduating therapy school (which also does not exist).

The story is not complete. The next chapter is waiting to be written.

Trust that if you are still smoldering from the fire, your story is not complete.

Trust in the healing of being the storyteller.  

You came in hot and showed up on fire. Your freedom lies in the ashes that remain and the story you create.

When we risk vulnerability and tell our stories, we allow others to learn from and find hope in our experience. We are not defined by a single chapter or event in our story. We are the entire book.

One person’s struggle is not uniquely theirs. Struggle is universal. I don’t have to be you to relate to your struggle. We can find a common ground built on empathy and learn from each other.

I’ve worked with folks from different countries who spoke different languages and yet still we found a place of understanding and healing.

A young, single father let me in his home to listen to his story after being misunderstood most of his life. His story read very differently on paper than it did when I heard it on his living room couch. Since I listened to understand this man who is the expert on his own life, I was able to share lessons I learned to empower him to express himself and communicate his family’s needs. He finished his own chapter as the hero because we both were willing to be vulnerable and learn.

I met a woman who’s story looked familiar from ones I’d seen before. A story which consisted of selling her body to support her addiction. However, when I listened rather than sent her own her way, I learned she wasn’t selling anything. She was the victim who couldn’t find the words to ask for help. I even used storytelling to give her the words she didn’t have to help her find safety and write a new chapter on her own terms.

As a collector of stories, I listen and learn from each person I’ve seen and share these lessons to help the next person. My grandmother, who as a girl walked to school in the snow uphill both ways while dodging a bull in the field, continuously told us that story as we were growing up to define the struggle of actually getting to school. She was very animated when telling about how her father, my great-grandfather would use a pitchfork to keep the bull at bay while her and her siblings would cross the field to get to school each day. She typically pulled this story out when my brother or I would complain about school. She had to fight to go to school and we merely had the privilege of complaining about it. My grandmother went on to graduate from nursing school which was not a typical story at that time. I hold on to her diploma as one of my treasures because her struggle laid the path for me to finish graduate school.

Therapy works best when the storyteller is brave enough to go the distance, learn the lessons and continue their story. A good therapist will not tell you what to do. A good therapist will set the table and allow you to pick your seat and invite the rest of the guests and even plan the menu. They may guide you and make suggestions on the appetizers or wine choice, but you are the expert on your story and your life.

You are the guru at the top of your mountain.

You are the extinguisher for your fire.

You are the freedom in the ashes that remain.

And if the story isn’t going the way you want, there’s nothing like a good plot twist…

Be Your Own Advocate

I am not a fan of pink – I’m just not.

I do not like being put in a color box because I am a woman and pink is feminine. Pink is a color – not an identity. However, this month, October I love pink. Pink signifies survival. My mother is a brave breast cancer survivor. My grandmother was also a brave breast cancer survivor. My cousin who beat breast cancer, but was taken from us after cancer returned in her brain. So many friends and family members that I could make an entire post filled with their names, who have bravely fought the battle with breast cancer. Women who make me proud to wear pink. Women who gave me the strength and knowledge of how to not only trust science and medicine, but to ask questions and advocate for myself.

I do not have breast cancer, and for that I am grateful. I know I do not have breast cancer because:

✅I follow the recommendations of medical professionals.

✅I perform self-examinations.

✅I get a mammogram every year.

At 37, I asked my primary care doctor for a referral for a mammogram. The year before, the recommended age to begin mammograms was pushed from age 35 to 40. When she looked at my family history, she gladly made the referral – but only because I asked and I have received a mammogram every year since.

My first mammogram showed ‘dense breast tissue’ which could be difficult to detect masses with a mammogram alone. Though, each year, my mammogram came back ‘clean’ with no concerns.

Until this year…

I read “There is an isodense, oval mass measuring 14mm with obscured margins seen in the posterior one-third upper outer region of the right breast” from the MyChart app while I soaked in the tub after my daughters’ swim meet.

I froze – I was terrified. A mass in my breast.

It was a Monday night and I had no other information, with the exception of what WebMD had to say. I didn’t know what this meant, so I messaged my doctor on the app. Then, I read the report to my husband and we sat silently while we processed what this could mean. And of course, I did all the things I tell people not to do. I hopped in my time machine and traveled into the fearful future I made up in my head and began planning for what may come – not a helpful practice.

The next morning, I called the office where I had my mammogram and scheduled a “diagnostic mammogram and targeted ultrasound”, as recommended in the report I read on MyChart app, to get more information on what was going on inside my boob. In the meantime, my doctor messaged me back encouraging me ‘not to worry until we have something to worry about.’ That was Tuesday morning. The “diagnostic mammogram and targeted ultrasound” were scheduled the FOLLOWING Friday morning – 10 days away.

I told a couple of close friends, but kept this to myself. I didn’t want worry anyone else until I had to.

Honorable, right? WRONG!

My problems, my fears, my issues and my struggles are worth the worry of others. I did not have to go through that alone and each time I shared my fears with someone I trusted, I felt better – lighter and better able to function in the midst of the torturous holding pattern of waiting for more results.

After the diagnostic mammogram and targeted ultrasound, the radiologist explained there was not only one but two masses in my right breast and the recommendation was to biopsy both of them. I was a fan of this plan, because if there is something in there, I wanted to know what it is. I asked the radiologist how they found the second mass. He said the ultrasound is more sensitive than the mammogram and is able to pick up masses a mammogram misses.

My next question was ‘then why aren’t we doing an ultrasound on my left breast to make sure the mammogram didn’t miss anything there?’ He agreed and said if I waited while they contacted my doctor for an order, they would do the ultrasound right then. And guess what…there were two small masses in my left breast as well. These were much smaller and did not indicate any concern, however, they are there and now we know they are there – because I asked.

I was then scheduled for an ultrasound biopsy the following Tuesday – 4 days later – on both masses in my right breast. It didn’t feel great, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever felt either. There was a lot of pressure, but the doctor and the nurses were wonderful in explaining every step and checking in with me along the way. They realized, they do this every day, but I do not and they treated me as such which I am grateful for.

I had bruising, bandages and swelling, but I’ve also had bug bites that have caused about as much discomfort. I felt empowered to take action to know what was going on with my body. The action fought against the fear of the unknown. The practice of mindfulness was extremely helpful to my mental health during this time. Mindfulness stopped me from time traveling down a path that I may never walk.

About 24 hours later, as I was getting seven inches of my hair chopped off at the salon, the doctor called me with the results and she led with ‘Stephanie, I have good news!’ From there, I heard very little other than the word ‘benign.’ She told me I didn’t need to do anything else for follow-up unless I had issues with the incisions. Sweet relief rolled over me!

Even in that celebratory moment, I remembered a note from the initial mammogram report which indicated I was now at an “increased lifetime risk for breast cancer” and an annual MRI was appropriate for additional screening. I asked her about the note, and she said I would be eligible and my doctor could order it no problem. Again, I asked the question to get the answer.

I am grateful for medicine and for medical professionals – more so than I have ever been. They have so much to juggle, monitor and prioritize without working from home or calling in sick. Medical professionals are our partners in taking care of health and it is our obligation to ask questions and participate in our medical care.

I share my story today, because I was terrified when I got these results. I read words I didn’t understand and I was intimidated to ask questions, but my medical professions held space for me and even encouraged me to do so. I wasn’t made to feel inferior or stupid for asking, nor did they make me feel like I was bothering them. And when I asked questions, I got more answers – it’s that simple.

I advocate for people for a living. I consider myself outspoken. And still…I struggled to ask the questions to make sense of what was going on in my body.

Ask the questions. Find doctors and nurses and therapists and facilities who encourage you to do so because it is your body and your health and you have an obligation to yourself and those who love you to take care of you!

Your concerns, your fears, your issues and your problems are worthy of the worry of others.  

✨Ask the questions

✨Share your story

✨Reach out for support

(Spoiler Alert – YOU ARE NOT ALONE!)