I have felt that I'm “too much" my entire life.  I'm too intense.  Too passionate.  Too compassionate.  Too sensitive.  I wrote a sentence for my piece in Jane Magazine issue five that may best describe this:  

“I concealed my intensity in order to exist within a culture that champions aloofness.”

While I no longer want to conceal this part of myself because it is paramount to my being, de-conditioning does not happen overnight.  I often feel misunderstood because I find deep connections in relationships and situations where others seem to feel less so.   I've never been able to be "cultured" enough to be conditioned in this way.   Or perhaps I’m just not drinking the cool-aid.  I am not cool enough to hold back.  I simply cannot be tamed. 

I have been gaslighted many times in my life for having the audacity to use the word “connection" - dare I say it!  That word does not mean that I want you to be my best friend or life partner.  A connection can last a lifetime, yet it can also last for just an hour.  Even a strong connection does not denote an associated relationship status to go along with it.  I personally think everyone else needs to get off the cool-aid and cool off with their projections, which most likely point to a fear of intimacy.  However, it's not my business what other people fear or don't fear and how they act or don't act.  

Beyond this, I also sometimes feel like I’m “too much" for myself.  I have so many feelings that I don't even know what to do with them.  Oftentimes, I feel like "I'm STILL having to feel this?!  When will it go away?”  Yet, I know the answer isn't to suppress those feelings.  When I do so, they come up over and over again in different situations, entangled with the same messages, which equate to the same feelings (simply different packaging).  It comes down to this:  I'm afraid of my own power, so I dim it.  Perhaps I do so in order to make others more comfortable, but beneath that, there's fear of truly showing up as my deepest, fullest self.  Because what will that bring?

I recently experienced a situation where I edited/modified my truth in order for it to be “appropriate” within the context of the situation.  Had I stated my truth with some more heart and left room for a bit of messiness, rather than with proper and structured wording, perhaps I wouldn't have grappled with feeling disappointed in myself afterwards.  Everything is a lesson.  This exact experience lead me to truly feeling into this “too much-ness.”  It came to the surface during a conversation with a dear friend, which guided me to getting to the simple truth of the situation and of myself. What we don't accept, we repress.    Acceptance is about receiving - receiving awareness, receiving presence, receiving truth.  When I don’t share my truth, I shut myself off from receiving.  And I am afraid of just that - truly receiving.  

The deepest work we do doesn’t always come from healing sessions or intentionally trying to make shifts.  It often comes from the situations and relationships that show up in our lives, and if we pay attention, we can learn and grow tremendously.  When something feels “off,” or when you are not happy with how you may have handled a situation or responded to someone, if you get in touch with your feelings and emotions and let them come to the surface, deeper truths can be revealed.  The truth is simple.  It doesn’t require editing or explanation.  It just is, and it is powerful.  

We can look to our objects to help us to sit with ourselves.  They are the invitations to pause, to quiet the mind, and to get into the physical.  Simply touching an object while breathing into the body can bring enough awareness to access a wealth of internal wisdom.  I'm now working on receiving.  From others yes, but from my objects as well.  My practices right now revolve around receiving my feelings and emotions, so that I can allow them to surface.  The more I sit with my "too much-ness,” the less I feel that I’m too much, or not enough.  I'm not only allowing my feelings to express themselves, but I'm also separating them from my being, in order to set myself free. 

John Baldessari, True to Form (from Goya Series), 1997

Part of why I’m drawn to objects is because we can count on them.  They’re reliable.  We don’t have to wonder what mood they’ll be in or how they’ll receive us.  We get to receive them.   This is why they can help us to ground so well - because they aren’t projecting anything onto us.  Whatever you’re getting from an object has to do with you, and if it’s not “you,” it’s your conditioning, societal programming, etc.  We can let go of the attachment of the object being a symbol of identity or status, and instead, simply true to form.  We can focus on the lines, the texture, the material and see it for what it is - an inanimate object. Letting go of attachment does not translate to detaching from warmth. It’s about detaching from the needing. We are whole as we are, and we don’t need any person, place, thing, or object to complete us. So when we let an object be true to form, without a story of how it should fill us, we leave room for us to be true to form as well.  That’s why this series is focused on attachment.  I’s about letting go - of how we think things should be, should look, should feel.  

We often assign meaning to the experiences we go through.  This is a very human thing to do and can sometimes help us to make connections in our lives in order to grow.  However, if we attach to the meaning,  we can miss the reality in front of us.  So we can find meaning in our experiences while simultaneously honoring them in the most stripped, literal way.  Because when we let go (of our agendas, motives, dreams), we see things as they are.   For instance, you can feel an intense connection with another person and then realize that the relationship has no place to go.  Perhaps the other person does not honor the connection, or perhaps they simply are not showing up in an honest way.  You don’t have to denounce the connection.  You can still honor it.  You can hold space for it.  So long as you realize that you don’t need it.  So if it doesn’t pan out the way you hoped, or if the other person doesn’t show up in a healthy way,  you can let go of the person, the story.  But the connection remains - it will always exist.  

By letting go of the stories and expectations of our objects, we are actually strengthening our connection to them.  We are seeing them in their purity, and in this space we can see ourselves more clearly.  We can honor ourselves as we are.  In a physical sense, we can honor the shape of our bodies, the curves and crevices and marks (just as we do with our objects), and then we can honor ourselves in the metaphysical sense - in our wholeness.  When we go to the metaphysical without first grounding in reality, we can get ourselves in spaces of delusion and fantasy, where things become skewed.  The point of going into the metaphysical is to be in our truth, where sometimes things just are without logical explanation or evidence.  When we enter this place while grounded in the present, we can access our inner knowing without the noise of confusion.  

So when we work with our objects, we can rely on their concrete nature.  This structure is what actually helps us to live with more ease and fluidity.  We can be here, now.  Free of our stories and past experiences.  Free of what others may think of us.  We forget about all of that.  We can be present.

If you’re looking for personalized guidance and/or to dive deeper into the work, feel free to contact me or to book a private session.

It is with my cup of tea that I take an inward breath before exhaling

It is while pouring the hot water that I experience the welcomed warmth of steam enveloping my face

It is how putting pen to paper transforms stagnation into fluidity.  

Our objects help us to be in process

They allow us to work with our hands

To find beauty in the mundane and meditation in the minutia.  

Our objects enable us to touch, to feel, to be in our bodies

The sensual experience of sliding a ring against the soft skin of a finger, 

of intertwining legs in warm linen sheets, 

of touching lips to the smooth ceramic surface of a mug

This is in process.

In process there are no shoulds or should nots

only inhales and exhales

even through the hardships

the heartbreaks

the messiness

the misunderstandings

In process there is breath

and therefore, breadth.

In process we experience

the small moments that teach us 

the presence of being alive 

and being alive does not always feel the way we want it to 

as it can be heart wrenching, unkind, gruesome, and painful

but in the presence of whatever arises, we come back to the essence of truth -

Objects are inanimate without us

home is inherently within us 

bring them inward 

to guide yourself home 

as even here, you are

in process.

I was speaking with a dear friend recently about messiness in life.  I’m using the word messiness here to refer to events that happen that feel alarming, jarring, and maybe even terrifying.  The things that shake us up.   Perhaps you’ve experienced a recurring issue, theme, or symbol in your life, in which you’ve felt fed up with, tired of, angry about - as though you can’t take it any longer.  I’m trying to unsubscribe from the belief that when this happens, it’s because I’m not “getting” something or shifting something.  Yes, I believe that the messiness happens to crack us open.  That it can ultimately be a blessing because it leads us to deeper learning.  But despite all of my best efforts, I cannot control or advance that learning.  People have said things to me like: “you’re attracting this from your mind, and you have to do the work to shift it.”  I think that’s bullshit.  What I do believe is that there are events we go through in order to help our souls to grow.  What I’ve been learning (and what I also struggle with) is that in my eagerness to learn and to grow, no matter what I do, I cannot speed up the process in order to rid my life of the messiness.  I’m learning that if something becomes recurring, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m not doing the work fast enough or deep enough.  During our conversation, my friend told me to accept that life is not on my timeline.  She's right.  It just is.  It doesn’t have to feel great or even okay.  It just is.  What’s happening is what’s happening, and no matter how many meditations we do or journal entries we write or deep issues into our childhood we crack open - we cannot govern what’s happening.  What occurs on the material plane is not a reflection of our insides.  

Perhaps sometimes we have to learn something over and over and over again.  And maybe it’s not because we haven’t learned from it the first time around.  Maybe it’s because we are being asked to learn more, to go deeper.  I am not interested in surface work.  I want to go to the depths.  The work of Object & Us is not about curating a perfect room or a perfect home or a perfect life.  It’s about grounding, even in the midst of groundlessness.  It’s about coming home to ourselves, so that our external world has no bearing on who we feel we are.  

I don’t care how ugly you feel your house is, or if you even have a house.  I didn’t have one for nearly a year, and I still don’t have a “permanent" space.  When I was frustrated about this and told my friend that I wanted to finally sign a year lease and ground in one place, she told me that I can do that in my sleep.  That what I’m going through is not because I’m not doing self work, it’s because I am.  That I can help people with my sessions and workshops and writing more deeply because I’m getting schooled on this shit.

This work is not going to help you to make your life prettier or more appealing.  It’s going to help you to ground despite how ugly it may be.  A really nice side effect of doing the work will be that you learn to better understand your own likes and preferences so that you can create a space you love.  And this is helpful not because of how attractive the space may be, but because the space will help you to operate in a more intentional way.  It will support your journey to living with mindfulness.  So I encourage you to leave room for messiness in your home.  Not so that you neglect your space or become careless, but so that you can leave room for messiness in your life.  Controlling your environment to the extent that there’s no room for fluidity will only keep you from your own freedom.  There’s room for you to be you - in all of your majesty and in all of your messiness.  I promise.

Below are some easy, simple rituals that will help you ground in the midst of groundlessness no matter who you are or where you are:

MORNING DRINK

Whether you’re filling your cup/mug with lemon water, tea, or coffee, study the cup/mug while you’re filling it with your drink of choice.  Connect with it - notice the texture and take note of how you feel in your body while doing this.  When you sit to have your drink, do a stream of consciousness journal entry. 

AFTERNOON EARTHING

Take off your shoes and plant your feet on the earth.  Connect with your breath and breathe in the earth energy through your feet up into your body.  You can also do this throughout the day - even if you are indoors and cannot take your shoes off - at your desk, work table, or in your car.

NIGHTLY SHUT OFF

Turn your phone on airplane mode an hour before you'd like to go to bed.  That way, in the morning you can keep your phone on airplane mode until after your morning ritual is completed.  Lay on your bed at night and feel the sheets/comforter.  Run your hands over the fabric.  Allow the fabric touching your skin to awaken the senses in your body.  You can then rest, close your eyes, and take some time to just be.  It doesn't have to be a formal "meditation," but rather literally a place to rest your head.  You can take mental stock of what you're grateful for, or write it down.  Whatever feels the most natural.  If you don’t have a bed, you can practice this wherever you are sleeping.