Every human beings breaking point is different.
The moment where clarity strikes and you just know that you know that you know - this is it. You can endure nothing more.
My breaking point came sometime in October when I realized how gravely tired my body was… of me. Relentlessly I have pushed my physical house to her absolute limits over the years, loves. And not because I don’t love her. But because I love my family, my wild and mild kids (the furry & shelled ones included) and I love you.
I love humankind so very much that my life became a living sacrifice offered up to every person who so much as asked for a shred of time at my ear. I broke open my body, I bruised my busy mind, and I gave until empty.
The waters of my soul became sour and stale.
Today I take a moment to reintroduce myself.
I share myself with you as someone who is beginning to be as tender with herself as she is with the world.
Stepping into this year I know I will need to stay brave in loving myself first, friends. It is counter to mother culture to put ourselves ahead of those we’ve birthed - whether this is a physical birthing or the birthing of an idea… or even a piece of art or business venture. Mother culture says, “put this first, too.” And so we do. Again and again and again.
Have you encountered this?
My response over the last few months has been to begin mastering the art of rest. To pick up precious pause. To lay down my most innate nature: to strive.
Can I be honest with you about what I’ve found here?
What I did not imagine, yet has become quite apparent?
Even with ample rest, my body has not (yet) responded in the way that I have most desired. I am presently coming off of another week-long migraine streak. They have become increasingly normal and “epic.” The highlight for this one has been toppling over at midnight into a mirror from vertigo. My nose is still bruised… and my ego? Well, she promptly went on hiatus.
A few months of rest does not make up for a lifetime of striving.
But I think that a few years of rest might.
So, while I plan very much to continue popping into your inbox at regular increments again, there may be times when personal static and silence are just what the ND orders. And, I’m not even mad about it.
I was. But we’ll go there another day (wink).
On this note, I will leave you with some inspiration.
And maybe an extra shred of hope for your story…
Have you ever thought about the meaning of your story?
Nechama Birnbaum’s grandmother did. She thought about it over and over again during her assignment at Auschwitz. But it wasn’t her present story that kept her going. It was the beauty of her past and the potential of her future.
When staring down the challenge in front of you what do you see in the now (if it’s safe to be in) and the next? I believe this is a poignant question. One that leads me back to hope in the face of struggle and strife.
The Redhead of Auschwitz is a necessary read that (while triggering) has been a balm to my weary soul, dear ones. If it aligns with your story, I pray you’ll pick it up.
See you soon beautiful humans.
With Love,
Other ways you can reach me right now -
I am still taking on virtual clients! If you or someone you love is birthing a new babe, it is my greatest joy to walk alongside mothers in the sacred postpartum window. Additionally, I now have my Holistic Birth Recovery Guide up on Etsy.
I am also still teaching yoga. One day each week, we gather ONLINE for an adaptive, accessible and trauma-sensitive chair yoga class for all mothers - pregnant, postpartum, and well beyond. For February, we’ll be moving our time to 6pm PST/8pm EST. And I would love to see you there!