Inspirational ideas, mind-body-spirit tools, and magic for your life.
My favorite present came from my aunt when I was nine. It was a magic wand.
She sewed a big purple star, decorated it with sparkly sequins, attached it to a metal stick, and added a purple ribbon.
I made a lot of magic with that thing.
When I was a kid, the world was alive with the potential of magic.
That’s why Harry Potter was a sensation: we love magic. We know, even as adults, in some part of our being, that magic is real.
We can feel it in our bones. It’s exciting. And a little scary. (Can I really make magic happen? What if I suck at it?)
We read about the Law of Attraction and mind-body connection and feel a mix of doubt and hope. Or, we dive in and go for it, but wonder if we’ll ever really master it.
We want the freaking magic! (Because, seriously! There has to be a better way than grinding through the slog! And, there is.)
To me, magic is not fluffy unicorns floating over sparkly rainbows. (Though I admit unicorns are pretty cool.)...
You’re sitting in your office, staring at a blank screen, and waiting for the muse to hit. You’re hoping for some brilliant blog copy, a fun social media post, or a stellar program idea to miraculously appear in your consciousness.
On those days when the magic isn’t flowing, your mind is likely to start attacking you with the critical, pressure-filled, perfectionism voice. It brings out yucky old phrases like:
“You’re not a good enough _______ (writer, coach, etc.)”
“Who are you to make a program or write a post about _______; you don’t know enough.”
“So-and-so already writes/coaches about this; your ideas aren’t good enough.”
“You don’t have a clear enough niche; no one is going to read this post.”
And on and on and on.
It’s common in the coaching world to talk about limiting beliefs, negative thoughts, and self-judgment. The only problem is a lot of the techniques we...
I was driving, grumbling at traffic, when I heard extreme screaming from the backseat.
Being a mom, I took this pretty much in stride and only almost rear-ended the car in front of me instead of actually crashing.
Luckily, nobody was being murdered; my daughter had just spilled a bottle of water on herself. Her shorts and the seat were soaked.
I thought things would be fine.
They were not fine.
This was Defcon-245, red-alert, serious emergency time. WET SHORTS. Worst thing ever. Lots of crying.
I get it; wet shorts suck. Especially if you have to wear them in your fun parkour class for an hour.
However, I also know that life is going to dish out some serious discomfort for my girl over the next many years. There’s no getting around it.
So, I gave her a choice. 1. Go to parkour class and have fun, but with wet shorts. 2. No fun parkour class, but we go home and get dry shorts.
Then I told her I really thought she could handle the wet...
In writing this post, I’m pretty sure I’m letting everyone in on a secret. Though I seem somewhat conventional on the outside, I’m really not. I’ve been called responsible and a goody-two-shoes, and I’ll own a little of that. However, my heart is most rebellious.
Once, when I was ten, I painted the legs of our back deck pink. Needless to say, my dad wasn’t that thrilled. In my defense, I didn’t set out to do anything wrong. I was simply carried away by the beauty of the pink paint, and I’d run out of surfaces upon which to explore using it.
Though I’m no longer ten, I’ve retained much of that creative, rebellious spirit. When my heart longs to explore something, I follow it.
I’m not really a fan of most rules. Especially cultural rules that constrain the creative spirit. I take heed of rules that create safety, but the rest? Well. Rules were made to be broken, right?
A couple of weeks ago, I snuck away to a vacation rental thirty minutes from my home. The fall leaves decorated the foothills and a nearby hiking trail beckoned.
I’d planned this retreat to A) have a lot of fun and restore my spirit and B) create new ideas for my business. I imagined a light-hearted week with my good friend/marketing strategist who had flown in to join me.
You know the feeling when you visualize and dream about the upcoming fun? Revel in the anticipation? I knew delight was waiting for me on that Colorado hillside.
And yet, at the same time, I found I had to sit and be with major emotions throughout the week. I had a little meltdown one day. Other days I felt turbulence rolling around in my chest and hit the hiking trail to help my body and spirit work through it.
When you become a parent, it’s messy. When you open up to the mind-body connection and refuse to stuff your feelings...
For months on end, my office looked like it had been attacked by a vivacious crew of toddlers bent on playing with every item in the room.
Papers blanketed my desk, keyboard, and floor. Books had toppled from neat stacks into piles of flotsam on the carpeted shores by the doorway.
I had lived happily in this creative mess for several months.
Then, one day, it was time. I felt the urge in my whole body.
My office wanted to be organized. My year needed to be mapped out on the calendar.
Never mind that the traditional time of year for that had flown by months ago. This was the right moment for my body, mind, and spirit.
This is a peek into the mysterious ways of Slacker Magic. Trust that whatever isn’t happening now isn’t meant to be happening now. Your moment will come. Your body and spirit will guide the way.
Right now, there are still closets on my to-do list;...
Mind-body-spirit tools gave me my life back in my early twenties. I’d suffered from two pelvic syndromes for years; interstitial cystitis and vulvodynia.
After I discovered mind-body healing, I was finally able to live without these syndromes. (Happy dance!)
Mind-body-spirit tools gave me my life back last year, too.
Even though I was facing a huge and difficult health crisis (as described in this blog post here), I consider myself lucky.
I had years of using my own mind-body-spirit tools under my belt, so I was able to face big decisions with clarity.
Because I had access to my inner wisdom, which meant I knew how to feel my emotions and stay connected to myself rather than suppress and disconnect. Inner wisdom told me when I needed to find new doctors and seek different help.
I knew how to navigate and advocate. I could trust my own wisdom.
Dealing with a really rough case of pelvic organ prolapse was hard and scary. However,...
Three years ago, everything fell apart.
It wasn’t cancer. It wasn’t a broken limb. It was not a clearly labeled disease.
It was complicated and confusing.
I was afraid it was the end of living a life I loved.
It was the end, actually. It was the end of that life I loved.
I want to tell you the story of my new life. To be honest, it’s not an easy story to tell.
It’s time to tell it, because I know other people face similar things and have to rebuild and recreate their lives, too. I know it can be terribly lonely and scary.
I’m in a place, now, where I can help and support others who are rebuilding or creating in their lives but feel alone – maybe even embarrassed – about vulnerabilities or limitations.
I know what that’s like, and I have both tools and empathy that were born from experience.
Here’s the story:
I had a thriving coaching practice. I was training mind-body coaches, I was coaching 1-1...
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