The Wellness Divide, Why More Than Lyme, and What’s Been Brought to the Surface Since Beginning to Offer 1:1 Mentorships

This Real Talk took an unexpected twist sparked by an email.

It was 7am, I had just finished writing the newsletter for the morning, and there it was. An email that pushed me to ask myself, “why am I choosing to show up in this way?” And maybe more importantly, “why now,” in deciding whether to offer a service (specifically the one-on-one sessions) through this platform.

At first, I wanted to shut it all down. I wanted to create a 100% discount. I wanted to run away and hide from what was surfacing. Money can be an uncomfortable thing to talk about, especially within a community where obstacles are seemingly everywhere, and not just that, but what we each have access to, our support systems, and the activities that our bodies and minds are able to do at any given moment.

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Because There Will Always Be More to Do, Say, and Be Part of, What Do We Have to Offer From This Moment?

The moment where I stop myself.

Where I pull out my notebook or computer and gaze blankly at the space just above; the bigger picture extends from here. From this place. From my seat at the kitchen table, sipping on my coffee, while intermittently watching the lawn be mowed at the park that pushes up against our back yard. 

This morning, I listened to OPB, or rather, NPR, while slicing, de-pitting, bagging, and then freezing plums that were once dripping from the tree outside of our kitchen window. The one that the bluebirds converse from while fluffing their undercoats, as I happily put on mine and watch from the porch below.

Again, of course, with a hot cup of coffee.

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A Letter: Reminders for Your Wild Self

Making space for the conversations under the stars, legs swinging inches above the ground as time feels irrelevant and the storing and stuffing and stirring of thoughts settle into a cool pool, where the only thing reflecting back at you, is you. 

You and those specks of light part of something much bigger than this. 

What if what I have to offer isn’t enough for a world so big, so messy, so swallowed up by to do’s that the conversations under these stars with legs swinging and hearts full, feel too small and unmatched next to the action we must take if we wish to keep on bettering. 

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What Happens If They Don’t Show Up? On Courage & What It Means to Be Seen & Heard, Even If That Means Walking in Alone

Believing in oneself takes an incredible amount of courage, and though there have been moments where my heart flutters, stomach drops, and the whole of the world is right there in front of me.

These moments are fleeting. 

They only stick around as long as I’m willing to show up for myself, not just when convenient and tied with a promise that things will turn out ok, but after I’ve tripped up and fallen. After I’ve failed to stand by my side and share this story, instead of picking and choosing pieces of the one I would deem as credible and worthy of putting out into the world. 

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Am I Doing This to Myself? Illness as an Identity, Limitations Around Happiness, & What It Took to Gain Back a Voice After Ten Months Without One

I write to make sense of things, or at least that’s what I tell myself. 

I pull on thought, put it there, then I pull out another, and put it there—over and over I go, mind churning up bits of debris, entirely unsure of where they came from. Actually, I’m convinced they were nothingness until I began to share their story, not mine. 

There’s a plot line, so into it I dive, pulling up more and more until I’ve exhausted myself and conjured up a scenario; a moment, a conversation, seemingly impossible limitation; I'm so far from reality that I have to call in a lifeboat to carry me back to me, where dinner is growing cold, my computer glares at me from across the room, and the only signs of this mind-excavation is being worn on my face and in the heaviness behind my eyes.

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June 7th - July 21st, 2018: Things I'd Tell You

I'm writing this from a little organic coffee shop in Bend, Oregon, and though the words below are in chronological order,  already written out at the date provided, doing their best to navigate and make sense of the past month or so, it would be doing them, myself, and all of you injustice if I were to dive right in. 

The possible argument that... this could be seen as a clear character depiction of my need and want to explain everything. Alas, I'm moving forward with the why's and the how's and the what if's. 

Let's start with the basics:I started this as a way to process the death of my grandpa. You can find more of those details, here. 

The bigger picture:In processing the death of my grandpa, I am noticing the cycles and persistent habits of my often anxious self, amongst other things, and I'm not sure I would have noticed if I didn't check in with myself in this no-pressure and expectation-less kind of way. 

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