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. 

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.

I feel trapped.  Stifled.  Suffocated.  I need space.

This is a theme for me.  One that I have been consciously exploring in the last two years, and as of late, it feels like this need is only getting stronger and louder.  It’s pretty obvious that no one person (other than myself) or object can give me this space.  Perhaps a larger home would (I’m in 300 sq ft with another person and a dog).  Perhaps.  Yet this need for space has depth.  So much depth.  When I close my eyes I often see myself swimming with dolphins in the deep sea or walking in the open desert.  My subconscious is taking me to vast, expansive places.  Places that are unknown, elusive, and even otherworldly.

These visions help me to access the spaciousness within, while my physical world may not be as roomy at the moment.  I spent nearly a year of my life in fight-or-flight mode, and while I’m so thankful to be out of that state, my body is still holding onto some of the trauma (which I’m actively working on releasing), and the areas in which I’m seeking expansion in my life are remaining stagnant (or seemingly so).  For instance, we moved into the moldy place after identifying that we needed some more physical space than we had in our tiny Echo Park cottage - to have alone time, to create, to rest, etc.  We eventually ended up in an even tinier all-one-room cottage.  Thankfully, we now live in nature, amongst the trees.  But you can probably gauge why the feeling of suffocation comes up regarding this situation - I left the tiny Echo Park cottage for more space, learned and grew so much in that insanely difficult time, and then ended up in the “same” situation I was trying to expand from in the first place.  But I can create a bit of space simply by not attaching to that meaning.  By knowing internally that I’m not in the same place I was a year and a half ago.  That I’ve learned so much.  That it might not all be crystal clear, but I’m listening.  I’m tuning in.

It’s frustrating to do self work and to have incredible epiphanies and realizations and connections and to then watch your life stay stagnant.  But this is where I get deterred from being in the unknown (which is actually a place of spaciousness, like the ocean) - by trying to “figure it out.”  By trying to attach to some kind of understanding of the situation or the need.  Yet truly, the only thing that works is to let it breathe.  To allow it to be there without having to understand.  To trust that everything will be revealed in due course.  And if I’m not “getting something” it’s not because I’m not doing the work - because I am.  I cannot force myself to accelerate faster.  All I can do is show up for myself.  And in that showing up, I’m being asked to go into the depths of feeling stuck and suffocated to learn and extract more from it than I can currently fathom. 

Part of this process for me involved clearing out all most of my possessions.  This allowed me to open up the space to even hear this voice.  To heed to its calling.  Because so much of my attachment to the “what if’s” relating to those items was released as soon as I let them go.  And this letting go has allowed me to be where I am.  To stay in the simplicity of each moment.  To release my yearning and needing for things outside of myself.  To detach from old stories and ways of being.  The more physical space I cleared, the more metaphysical space became available for me to dive into.  This may not be the case for everyone.  This work is so individualistic (depending on the truth of your internal needs).  But whatever the need, the physical and metaphysical are connected.  When we are only exploring one realm, we are missing parts of the whole.  If we go straight to the metaphysical without looking at the concrete, we lose connection from the earthliness of grounding in reality.  If we only go into the physical, we lose the magic and the message of what’s trying to come through and help us to grow.  

I’ve been connecting these two worlds by utilizing my objects to create space for myself, through rituals.  Here are a couple of examples:

MORNING TONIC

I listen to soothing music, heat up water or mylk, and then gather my spices and adaptogens.  The process - of waiting for the kettle to steam, stirring everything together with the tiny wooden spoon, slowly sipping, and enjoying time with myself - is an intimate one.  It allows me to slow down and stay present at the start of my day.  You can read more of this here.

GETTING DRESSED

I ask my body what it needs.  Does my body need ease and movement (something open and free like a linen jumpsuit) or structure (something more containing like denim)?  This simple question opens me up to the truth of what my body needs, so that I can respond with receptiveness.  

These tiny acts create space, because being in touch with the truth and in tune with my needs always does.  When I go about life in autopilot - fight-or-flight, or going through the motions - where’s the room for me?  It’s really about peeling the layers in order to have more compassion, not more understanding or knowing.   To lay bare, to become more raw.  It is in this rawness that I have no choice but to surrender.  To let go.  To need nothing but the space between myself and a universe I may never understand.  

If you feel called to learn more and to dive into this work, explore booking a session.  Feel free to email me with any questions.

Last week I got an accidental haircut.  I went in for a complimentary touch-up (less than a trim) and came out with 4 inches of less hair.  I cried as soon as I stepped out of the salon door and continued in my car for the whole hour-long drive home, and for two more days after.  I felt ugly, but more specifically - I didn’t feel like myself.  When I looked in the mirror, I felt like a stranger in my own skin.  I’ve had so many different haircuts and styles over the last three and half years, so I was surprised by my reaction.  I had very long hair for most of my life and decided to chop it in 2014.  This initial cut was such a freeing experience, and has continued to be over the last few years.  I was once told that I would only look good with long hair, and I truly felt that was true... until I cut it.  I felt like I didn’t have to hide behind my long locks anymore.  I can feel pretty and sexy and confident with short hair?  Yes, and even more so than I had ever felt before.  Why? Perhaps because it was an external form of stripping (in this case shedding).  Shedding the physical hair, yet also the ideas and lies I had been fed and continued to feed myself.  “I’m not the kind of person who looks good like x.”  I’ve since experimented with many lengths ranging from my chin to my shoulder, and a few different styles of bangs.  So why was this recent haircut such a shock?  Beyond not setting out to do it on purpose and it being such a drastic change - conditioning.  In this case, I felt like I couldn’t have hair shorter than my chin because I have a strong jaw and long chin, and therefore the proportions of my face would be accentuated in an unflattering way. 

I have felt like that often throughout my life, and not just with my hair, but also with much deeper subjects.  This conditioning can be so insideous.  In the beginning of this year, I vowed for unapologetic self-acceptance.  I believe this haircut has been a small part of that journey.  After I let myself cry and complain and feel the emotions, I knew I had to face myself.  Why am I so hung up on how I look?  Why do specific hairstyles help me to feel like me?  This is a heavy topic.  What makes us who we are?  Our hair certainly has nothing to do with it.  How can I learn to feel “like myself” right now, without something that shapes my identity in the way I want to be seen?  I’m not going to wait for my hair to grow out again to be able to sigh and go, “okay now I feel better.”  Fuck that.  That is such a restricted, stifled way to live, and I’ve lived too much of my life that way already.  So I went within.  I listened.  What came up is that I still seek approval from my mom.  I don’t allow this to effect my actions (hence cutting my hair off and dying it red as a teenager and chopping it again a few years ago), yet I still want her to think I’m beautiful.  Because she put so much emphasis on beauty during my upbringing.  Because she was always more noticed and accepted for her beauty than I was.  This is all bullshit because it has nothing to do with the truth.  It simply stems from barriers I created as a result of the environment I was conditioned in.  Once this clear truth (the truth of the conditioning) came through, I was able to let it go.  I talked to her.  I told her she was beautiful and had something to offer the world.  I told her that my hair has nothing to do with her (something she already knows), that she is who she is regardless of appearances, circumstances and beyond.  She is infinite.  She is my essence.  In her highest self, she has no fear.  She is always in the truth, and she is courageous in her truth.  She is me.  I am her.  

I know this, yet I get caught up in my humanness (as humans do).  In my appearance, my identity.  So what’s all of that for?  Perhaps mirages for us to grow through and overcome.  Yet also, without our identities, we would all appear the same.  The beautiful thing about the external world is that we get to choose.  We get to choose how we present ourselves - with our clothing, hairstyles, spaces.  We have the freedom of self-expression.  What hairstyle (and outfits and home items) would you choose if you broke down some of the conditioning around identity?  If you detached from your identity and made choices from your truest form, without trying to prove anything to yourself or others?  In this case, I didn’t make the choice of how my hair would look, but I choose to embrace it - to see myself clearly regardless.  The importance does not lie in the choice itself, it lies in the intention behind it.  When we don’t have motives, or when the only motive we have is to feel connected to ourselves, we become free.

Photo by Jamie Arrigo