On Repeat.

Pay attention to the words that are on repeat in your head. This has been part of my observation practice this year. The things that are on repeat matter. They guide us. They influence us. They become us.

Saturday morning I set out to run. Even with the best intentions I keep finding reason to miss a run here or there. Saturday morning was one of those mornings. Excuse after excuse piled up. I had juggle and rearranged my running schedule all week by Saturday I felt behind. I had one hour and 15 mins planned for the day, and not enough time to accomplish the task. I did have enough time to run my 30 minute speed work that I missed on Thursday.

A mile in a new set of words was on repeat in my head.

Look for opportunity instead of excuses.

These words that found me in running have followed me into all the daily pieces of my life.

In my attempt to find my calm in the midst of the summer panic I always feel, I’m returning to my words. No matter how clumsy or rusty my own personal writing feels, it’s the practice that lets me feel free. Using my words to define my life is what allows me to stay awake.

Writing is my vibration in life. And running is the place the settles my mind so I can hear the words that are on repeat. The more I run, the more I gravitate towards writing. The more I write the more awake I feel.

Tonight on my run, I struggled. My breath never settled. Nothing felt easy about my easy run. I had a million excuses for why it felt all wrong, but instead I found the opportunity to silence my head.

I ran my normal route by the river. I allowed myself to stop for a moment to take in the views. This time I stopped a little further back on the island near an abandoned boathouse. There isn’t much to be said for the abandoned shelter but I love it more than it’s million dollar neighbors. I tend to gravitate to the broken, weathered souls that are living a full life. This boathouse is no exception. There’s a story to be told about that boathouse if you can see beyond its broken structure. It’s the difference between being broken and breaking open.

Thirty minutes later my run was done. All my hard was left behind in my neighborhood streets.

Look for opportunity instead of excuses. I can’t wait to follow these words for a while.

How do you stay awake?

Last week I called my therapist in the midst of a low point. Panic had creeped in, and my next appointment felt too far away. Maybe she had an cancellation. Maybe she had an appointment for someone who really needed to sit on the couch in her office. She must have heard the panic in my voice, because she called me back immediately. There was no secret appointment to claim. No one had cancelled. But she told me if she could write me a prescription for anything, it would be to take some time for myself. It would be to find my quiet. She reassured me that I have all the tools I need to calm myself, but I need to use them. I don’t need her to do that. I don’t need to sit in her office to feel safe. I can calm myself. I can heal myself.

I took a few inhales and exhales. I took a few more. I carried on.

Tonight I found a moment of quiet, and I sat down to watch Elizabeth Lesser on Oprah’s SuperSoul Sunday.

How do you stay awake? Oprah asked Elizabeth this question, and I felt myself exhale. I rid my body of my panic as I waited to inhale her response. How do you stay awake?

Elizabeth’s answer didn’t come quickly.

I stay awake by paying attention to the amazing feedback loop that is always there. There is an amazing system in the world. It’s called karma, but its happening at every moment. Who you are, what you just did, what you said, its reactions are happening all around us to other people. Stay aware of your effect on other people, of your effect on the earth. Don’t be afraid to admit mistakes. That’s how I stay awake. I stay aware of my effect on the world.

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Summer has never been my season. It is rare for me to pass through this season without wanting to stay asleep. This summer I’ve craved more sun than I’ve ever craved, but I’ve also craved more sleep. I’ve needed to feel settled. I’ve needed quiet.

Last week, at the same time of my panic, a full moon lit up the night sky. This moon cycle encourages us to reflect on the energetic space we carried with us at the beginning of the year. What ever we needed to learn from that space is clearing and shifting to make room for something new – something that will require us to be ground, stable, and hard working.

I welcomed 2018 with a full energy. I was awake. I felt engage, alive, aware, and in tune.

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The moment I read the first page of Elizabeth Lesser’s book, Broken Open, I knew I was receiving a gift. As I listened to her speak with Oprah, I was reminded of what she taught me. We can be broken, or we can be broken open.

Over and over, we are broken on the shore of life. Our stubborn egos are knocked around, and our frightened hearts are broken open—not once, and not in predictable patterns, but in surprising ways and for as long as we live.

In my moments of panic, I feel broken. When panic creeps in and I loose my breath, I feel like I’m breaking apart. But breaking doesn’t equal broken. This will always be my lesson to learn. Breaking is an opportunity to open. It’s a place for breath. It’s a place for growth. When things break, they create a vibration. That vibration effects the world. That is how I stay awake.

You can watch Elizabeth Lesser on SuperSoul Sunday HERE.

Contrast.

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” ~Brené Brown

For weeks now my thoughts keep coming back to one thought. Joy and sadness belong together. These versions of extremes are actually the same. They can’t exist without each other. It’s been on repeat in my thoughts and my observations.

So I’ve observed. I’ve looked for these opposing forces in every corner of my world. Where is there sadness? Look beyond it. Joy is hiding. Where is there joy? Look further. Sadness exists too. These two existences are dancing around me.

It’s a simple thought, a thought I would have always said was true, but the practice of existing in both space can feel like chaos inside my head. Findings breath between the highs and lows will always be my calm.

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On Thursday I sat across from my therapist.

You need to get curious about your discomfort. Just observe. Pay attention to everything. How do you feel? How are you breathing? What emotions are you experiencing?

Her words echoed the intention I set for myself this year.

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On Tuesday I tackled my first speed workout in ages. 6×400 before 6am with one intention to fuel me – don’t give up on my intervals.

After my 4th interval, I let out an audible fuck. In my moment of recovery, I wondered why I do this. Running has been so enjoyable lately. It’s been comfortable and easy. Am I crazy to give that up?

Before my thoughts could even finish, I knew my answer. I’ve never been one for comfortable and easy. Being stagnant doesn’t work for me. I don’t thrive off day to day. I need to be lost in something. Running is always the strength I need for living, so its time to find more strength.

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Right now I need to be lost in my discomfort. It’s the only way to see my light. It’s going to messy. It’s going to ugly. It’s going to get real.

Existing beside my own discomfort is also my greatest joy. They belong together.

“Some of your most powerful intentions are born in your moments of greatest contrast.” ~Michael Thomas Sunnarborg

It is time to be powerful. In my sadness and in my joy! Life comes from within. Strength exists within.

Yamacraw 20K | You have to be brave somewhere

Heading into this weekend, I was stepping into and out of my comfort zone all at once. Trees and the mountains have always been my true love. Running is a close second. Heading towards the mountains for a trail race felt as natural as raising my children.

As we made our way west, it dawned on me I had no idea what I was driving towards. I had done little research. I didn’t scrutinize the details of race day. Dropping from the 50K to the 20K after a small tear in my quad sidelined me a few weeks ago, I had a false sense of confidence heading into race weekend.

I was “only” run 12ish miles. I could handle whatever came my way.

My false sense of confidence worked in my favor this weekend. I followed the race instructions, boarded a bus, got dropped off at a trailhead with a cone and a timing may start line, and I ran when the race director shot off his gun. I had zero race day nerves until I hit the trails.

“You have to be brave somewhere.” ~Brené Brown

Christian and I started together. We would decide as we went if we should stay together or run separately. Out of respect for other trail runners (because I assumed everyone else at the race was experienced and more trained than me), we started at the back of the pack. One by one we ran single track trail into the woods. We descended stairs. We crossed streams. We slushed through mud puddles. We played.

I started this race timid. Slipping and sliding through mud, I wondered how long it would be before I took a tumble. Slipping on rocks at river crossings, I wondered how long it would be before I fell into the river.

“You have to be brave somewhere.” ~Brené Brown

I read these words on my way out of town, and they echoed in my head for the first few miles of the race. When nerves and doubts bubbled, I repeated them. Pick brave. You have to brave somewhere.

A few miles into the race I found my footing. I became comfortable. I quit second guessing my ability to run hills. I didn’t over analyze where I should take my next step. I just ran what was in front of me. This crazy trail run become an extension of me. By mile 6 when we approached a river crossing too deep to cross by foot, I felt alive. We crossed the river by raft and ran on.

From here everything went up: the elevation, my attitude, and my confidence. Christian and I were still stride for stride quietly taking turns leading and following. He pushed me passed my timid ways in the beginning, and now it was my turn to push him to finish stronger than he started.

During one of the final descents down the mountain, another runner yelled out to me: fake your confidence. I glanced back, laughed and replied: “it’s like you’ve known me my whole life.”

That gentle nudge to own my run allowed me to open up my stride, to embrace the downhill and to trust that I could run this trail. When the finish line bridge became visible, I felt a strange mixture of pride and sadness. Proud because I finally embraced myself on a run. Sad because I wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for it to be over.

Christian and I crossed the finish line together, and I know we are both eager to get back out there. The trails have so much to teach us, and this weekend we just scratched the surface.

As we make our way back east towards the beach, my heart aches a little. There is something about the mountains that can’t be replaced. I need them in my life. My heart exists within them.

For now, I’m going to carry their lessons with me. This year my goal is to observe, and yesterday I saw a new spark in me. I saw a girl who chose brave and who gave herself space to work through timid in a way that works for her.

“You have to be brave somewhere.” ~Brené Brown

Finding myself in comfort and discomfort is invigorating. I’m coming home awake.

Safety in Freedom

As I ran towards the park on the Cape Henry Trail, my goal was simple. With every stride I took, I wanted to feel my foot hit the ground. I wanted to feel the connection between me and the earth. Reach. Connect. Absorb. Push forward. I was there to feel my run. Every other thought was left behind me.

I have found myself sitting across from my therapist on a frequent basis these days. In this space I bring my thoughts with me. My goal is simple. I want to feel myself existing in my world. I want to feel my connection between me and my world. As I sit quietly in her peaceful room, the goal is the same as it is when I put on my running shoes. Reach. Connect. Absorb. Push Forward. In this space my thoughts comfort me. My body is left behind.

The year of waking up delivered me to a place of observation. With my eyes wide open, I am seeing everything. I’m seeing my light, my wounds, my joy, my hurt, my strengths, and my weaknesses. I’m seeing myself.

I’ve discovered a pattern in my life. I crave safety, yet safety is the one thing that feels suffocating. My need to feel safe and protected has driven me to tuck myself away. It’s a basic human need. We all need to feel safe.

The more I’ve observed, the quieter I’ve become. My own words have failed me lately. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a full story to tell that I’m looking to find comfort in the words of others. My moments are filled with devouring books of women who like me are trying to fly free. I feel clumsy in my own being knowing that I’m outgrown the cage I’ve created for myself.

I crave freedom.

“The psyched and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place.” ~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

So many people have asked me what comes after the year of waking up? Maybe I finally know the answer. Maybe the next chapter is knowing I’m safe when I fly free. I don’t have to remain small or rooted to be safe. There is safety is soaring. There is safety in taking flight.

Reach. Connect. Absorb. Push Forward.

This is how I make sure I’m safe. It’s through reaching and connecting that I’m able to absorb all I am. It’s how I push forward. It’s how I fly.

Reach. Connect. Absorb. Push Forward.

This is what comes next.