Breathing deeply and feeling all the feelings, I decide to blog about them trusting I am not alone in these body sensations.
My body remembers tight turtlenecks and itchy scarves with shoes that had a wedge because my feet were too big for little girl Mary Janes. I was too tall for the cute dresses too, and my parents were born into world war 2 in Europe, so I was taught to be grateful that I had clothing on my body to keep me warm. In my mind, I knew gratitude, because my home was safe. My little blush pink bedroom was my sanctuary, and mom and dad loved me. My favorite flannel footsie pajamas were light pink with roses on the top and sleeves too short, and as I grew mom cut the footsie parts off so I could still wear them. Broken in and super comfortable. Life was undemanding when I wore them and sat to watch my favorite show, Little House on the Prairie.
I remember all the big adventures of life when I was afraid to step out into the world, but found the courage because my soul knew it had a purpose which was not to hide. My first job, going off to college, moving to new york city, auditioning as an actress, living in London, bag packing throughout Europe, starting new jobs, changing careers, traveling to New Mexico and camping in the desert with my two young children. There were so many frightening moments that were big moments and tiny moments.
Having babies was bliss for me. Staying home in my pajamas and keeping a cozy nest for my family felt nurturing and safe. Home is my sanctuary. I love home. Candles, soft music, pink roses, mulling spices, essential oils, soft blankets and pillows, and of course a real fireplace in the winter.
I have lost myself again in these months of isolation. Indulging all my senses in the home, and even purchasing the most beautiful and sensual new pajamas as well as flannel ones with new slippers. It feels safe. The world outside feels frightening to my body. The tension in my shoulders arrives as I think of commuting into new york city this afternoon.
My soul is crying though. She reminds me that this body has a purpose. She is full of wonder and excitement and she asks me to step out from the covers and to reach out and share these sensations with others. There is healing to be done on this land. You are a healer, she reminds me. I listen, and feel the tension in my stomach as my mind begins to distract with all the other things that need to be accomplished like working with my clients one on one, sending invoices for work, doing laundry and cleaning out the closet. The easy things. It has become a habit. It is so easy to assist friends and clients on their healing journey, and I love every moment of my conversations. However, I am still hiding. Hiding behind busyness, motherhood, being a daughter, a sister, a friend, a mentor and a healer. Still nurtured in my home with white velvet blankets and Gracie on my lap. I am happy. I am content. I am complacent- so I feel the fear. Feeling it all. And I breathe deeply. There are thousands of people who need the wisdom of yoga, meditation, finding their voice, overcoming addictions, healing their inner child and finding self love. I have beautiful boxes stored inside me with wisdom, and it is time to share them. To share them with love.
Here is my declaration to you. Today I begin. It starts with publishing this blog, and the path continues as I invite the angels to walk by my side and show me the way.
I invite you to join me at the beautiful Omega institute for a weekend of miraculous healing through the empowered kundalini program I created over the past few years. We are all being guided to heal generations of our family’s lineage at this time. It takes work on our part to feel, deal and heal, but we are ready! When we move through this time, we will experience magic. We are making space for miracles!
Always with love. May God bless you all who read this. Hold my hand…. we can walk this path together.