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

I’ve always known this intellectually, that I am enough.  I am whole on my own.  I don’t need anyone or anything to aid in being enough.  Yet, as I’ve been examining areas and experiences in my life, I’m finding that I’m not fully “there” yet.  I still at times experience guilt and shame for simply being me.  This is absolutely from past conditioning, which I’m working on stripping (it’s a process), hence the name of this series. 

When I dove into the feeling of not being enough, I realized that it has in the past manifested as presenting myself a certain way in order to be seen for who I am.  This has typically been tied to my possessions, not my personality.  It was extremely difficult to accept this as true because I’ve never used my “things” to prove anything to others.  But I have used my things as a way to feel like myself.  Perhaps it was filling myself with a false sense of authenticity - even if the objects resonated with me.  This is why I stress that this work is rooted in the relationship we have with our objects, not the objects themselves.  I can only be myself and feel like myself in my nakedness.  So when I’m seeking something from them (objects), I am unable to seek the same subject or theme from myself.  In simpler terms - I’m looking in the wrong places.  I have everything I need within, so when I look to external sources, even for self-confirmation of any kind (even if the sources are healthy people we love or ethical objects we love), I’m reverberating that in some capacity, I am not enough.

Lately, I’ve been going through the process of ridding myself of almost all of my things.  Not because I made the decision to, or wanted to, but because in a higher sense I am being asked to.  I’m simply choosing to follow that nudge.  At the same time, I’ve had some illuminating, painful, and beautiful realizations and “aha” moments (through Unblocked Reparent, meditation, and other intuitive work).  I realized that growing up, I had to deny so many parts of myself in order to exist in my environment - I was not able to simply be me.   The process I’m going through now - while incredibly uncomfortable - feels like a beautiful gift.  A gift of being born again, in order to rise as my true self.  I’ve been given a clean slate, to metaphorically go back into the womb, as a gestation period.  So rather than adding things into my life to fill any emptiness I may be feeling, I’m shedding life as I know it (ideas, ways of being, things) in order to open the space for me to be enough without any of it - with nothing but my naked self.  I have no crutch to fall back on, and I don’t need one.  No one does.

This work is not about curating a perfect lifestyle.  It’s about warmth and invitation - to yourself.  Your needs, desires, fears, flaws.  It’s an invitation to all of it.  To examine it so that you can form a new relationship with yourself in order grow.  Just like our relationships with people, our objects are our mirrors.  Examine each one of your objects.  First check-in with yourself, and then ask the object - what are you here for?  What are you showing me?

If you are looking to go deeper into this work, you can book a one-on-one session here. 

Photo by Claire Cottrell.

Last month I posted about objects and attachment in regards to letting go and surrendering to the process of change, growth (and outgrowth).  Some of you asked about delving deeper into this topic, so I’ve decided to create a series around attachment in order to explore it more in depth.  While this work is about letting go of attachment, detachment is not the goal.  This work is about connection - aloofness has no place here.  Our objects serve us, but it is up to us as to how.  They can do so in unwanted ways, by fulfilling a false sense of identity, power, status, or even wholeness.  We are whole on our own, and it is our job to do the work to be in this place of knowing.  Things like identity, power, and status are constructs, and when we use them to fill us up, we are being untruthful to ourselves about who we are, which really robs us of living authentically and to our fullest.  If we tear down these constructs, we can allow our objects to serve us by using them as vessels to connect to ourselves.

I’m in the process of getting rid of a storage unit full of all of my possessions (other than my clothing/accessories, some books, and a handful of other objects).  These are things I haven’t necessarily outgrown.  Things I cherish and love.  Things that used to serve a positive purpose (and have potential to in the future), but right now, they are just sitting in a dark room, unused and unappreciated.  My decision to let these items go did not come quickly or easily, but I felt a heaviness from holding onto them.  An intangible weight - they’re taking up space in my life.  Not physically, but metaphysically.  For me, keeping the storage unit has meant waiting for something “better” to come along.  I’m currently living in a lovely, tiny cottage, but it’s not conducive long term for two people and a dog.  The storage unit has acted as a representation for what’s next.  “Once we find a bigger place, we can put the credenza here and…”  It takes me away from the present and from my relationships with the objects I currently do live with.  From where I am in my life right now.  From acceptance.  I may move somewhere new in one month, or it may take years.  I don’t know what the future holds, and that is magical.  Anything is possible, so I’m creating space for all that I don’t know, for all that I can’t imagine - to make room for the possibilities, for expansion, for growth beyond my current understanding.  I don’t want to stay stagnant in what was or even in what I want things to turn into,  I want to be here, in the now.  And for me, that’s a spacious way to live (even in 300 sq. ft).  

This process may seem drastic, and I’m not suggesting that everyone should do the same.  These types of decisions are deeply personal and individualistic.  Check in with yourself.  What is weighing you down metaphysically?  How can you create space in this area of your life?  Does it involve clearing physical space of any kind?  This is a great journal exercise in order to look at where you may be holding on, in order to shed attachment and create space for the great unknown.  If you’re looking to dive deeper into the work, sessions are now open again.