Is it time to leave? Time to speak up?

Have you stayed at an event, in a space, or in a relationship, that you didn’t like, maybe even felt uncomfortable, but thought you SHOULD stick it out? 👋🏼 Anyone else?

Good grief. I had a dream about this the other night. I was at something like a neighborhood block party of sorts, although we were in a stark white bldg. Maybe post-apocalyptic and the air wasn’t safe? I wasn’t WITH anyone, so I was alone among lots of people. Several folks invited me to sit with them. I felt dread. Everyone disappeared to get food and then I really was alone, in a swivel chair. A white swivel chair. Twirling, heart racing… should I just go? I don’t want to be here. I’m uncomfortable. And, the struggle, the fight that was happening in my head was that I SHOULD stick it out. Make new friends. Something must be wrong with ME that I feel this way. Anyone else would be just fine. 🙄

I try and write out my dreams in the morning if I remember them. My therapist does dream analysis with me occasionally, and I find it fascinating, and often… very helpful! I don’t even think I need her for this one though. 

After writing “being there was hard” my brain lit up and I got fired up about judging myself. How many times have I had to remind myself lately that it’s actually my intuition, my gut, my truest self, telling me - GET OUT. Leave that behind. Leave them behind. 

My friend Jess and I have been talking quite a bit lately how we’ve stayed in places and in relationships for too long because we thought we SHOULD be comfortable when we weren’t; that there must be something wrong with us. We’ve reflected how growing up in an evangelical tradition that told us who and how to be, and want to think and believe, took our ability to discern intuition away from us. We were uncomfortable at home growing up and thought, that’s just the way it is. 

The work to undo that learning is hard. It’s learning a new discomfort. 

Learning how to speak my mind was uncomfortable.

Declaring and holding boundaries was uncomfortable.

Having difficult conversations was uncomfortable. 

Now, that discomfort is much easier to handle. I’ve learned to trust myself.

The discomfort I feel now also has me living a life of greater ease. I finally feel like myself. Learning to listen and trust my own intuition has been a hard practice, with bountiful payoffs. 

My instinct is still to wonder what I’m doing wrong. What about me needs to be fixed? After I take a few deep breaths, settle the nervous system, the clarifying light dawns… Oh, this ___ is just not for me. 

Learning how to voice my opinions, stand up for myself, set those boundaries, has been hard work, but oh so rewarding!!

Let me know if I can coach you through finding your voice to bring you more trust and knowing within yourself. 

Self-Compassion v. Self-Criticism

Self-Compassion v. Self-Criticism

In my self-aware/analysis journey, I’ve made a concerted effort from time to time to be aware of how I interact with students/clients. Making sure I’m generous enough; sometimes I get lost in analysis/detective mode and forget the praise portion! Noticing if I’m harsh, what’s the fear? Working through and healing from different childhood traumas, I’m now more aware of how I get triggered by looks, tone of voice, words, demeanor. I recover more quickly now. And, occasionally I can get triggered by a client. More important these days is that I can notice if the clients are getting triggered and don’t know it…

Confidence is a byproduct

Confidence is a bi-product; not a pre-requisite ~ Karly Nimmo…

I’ve experienced connection to vulnerability and confidence. Over and over. I was turned on to the Shame and Vulnerability work of Brene Brown about 8 years ago. Her work was crucial in my transformation as I began to find myself.

Learning to be vulnerable takes a lot of courage. Living those moments over and over again, and coming out whole and not destroyed on the other side, does indeed increase confidence. I’m so grateful for that work. While it still continues, the hardest, biggest load of that recovery work seems to be behind me, and I wouldn’t trade those hard experiences for anything, as they’ve brought me to where I am. I think the hardest part is getting started.

the threshold

Here I am; hopeful for 2022!

I know myself better
I love myself more
I’m getting clearer on what I want and what I don’t want in my life
I’m getting better at asking for what I need
My voice is getting stronger.

After months of loss, personal and collective, I found some peace at the ocean a few times in the fall, and then another wave of grief and fear hit before the holidays. Aware of…

The unknown.
The liminal space.
The in-between.
The threshold of what was and what is to come.

We use the changing of a calendar year to start a new, but our lives cannot be programmed to time in such an arbitrary way.

And yet today, I feel something shifting…

Change is Hard; the Voice Knows

I often struggle with wanting to make the “right” decision. This stress is likely compounded by the evangelical religious traumatic upbringing, living up to the “good girl” image I was taught, and ultimately worrying if I make the wrong decision, the world will end - hello anxiety symptom of catastrophic thinking!

Why is change hard? There is discomfort, fear of the unknown. It is more work, more energy in transition.

Experimenting with the voice is so important.

We are often so resistant to the natural transition spots in our voice. You know the ones; we often call it “the break”. Although, nothing is broken! It’s a feared sound and sensation, and it is really necessary for communication. And, it can be a scary sudden change if you’re not expecting it; or fearing it.

On grief and gratitude

I’ve been living through a period of grief this last year, processing childhood/parental relationships spurred on by my mothers Alzheimer’s diagnosis. I discovered that I began singing as a child as a way to escape and to be able to comfortably express emotions where it was not acceptable or safe to do so in my home in real life. I’m reading a book right now called Burnout, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. Of all the years of our lives, this might be the year that you would find such a book helpful as well. Part of the reason why we get burned out is that we don’t process our stress (our emotions) and get stuck. While we might not be able to control our stressors, we can learn to go through our stresses with practiced activities, and delightfully, singing is one of them.