On New Years Eve, I spontaneously wrote a caption on my instagram post - an honest and raw account of how I was feeling as I reflected on 2017.  I told myself I wouldn’t repeat it in a post on the journal, yet here I am, still reflecting and feeling compelled to expand.  To expand on that post, and to expand in my life.  In order to expand, I have to be in the truth.  In my truth.  I’m still reflecting, going within, and spending most of my time alone.  I’m sitting with what happened last year.  Not to relive it, or to cleanse it, but rather to allow myself and my body some time to move through it (my body has gone through a lot and is in need of major rest).  2017 was excruciating and exhausting (politically, personally, etc.).  It was a whirlwind.  No…it was a shit show. 

As I reflect, I see that I asked for it.  I asked for it in my commitment to my growth.  In my commitment to my truth and authenticity.  I asked for it in my vow.  In 2014, I made a vow instead of a resolution - vulnerability.  That year I learned to love myself in a deeper way than I ever knew I could.  I committed to being with myself.  To being more in my body.  And that presence required the allowance to love myself.  That year I met Jeff, who returned that love.  He also showed me that my vulnerability was beautiful because he accepted me in all of my messiness.  He accepted that I was flawed, and he supported my commitment to my self-work.  Every year I now make a new vow.  

The definition of resolution is “a firm decision to do or not to do something.”  Often, it’s giving something up - restricting, withholding - and it almost feels punishing.  The definition of vow is “a solemn promise.”  Some synonyms include:  commitment, affirmation, word of honor.  Every year I make a promise to myself by honoring that word of commitment.  The vow is an ongoing affirmation that never ends with the year’s closing, but begins with the year’s opening.  It’s not linear or limiting, but rather, fluid.  It’s soft and forgiving.  I make sure to create all of these vows with love, in order to grow and expand beyond my current understanding of self and of others.

My vow to myself for 2017 was to lean-in more.  Immediately after making that vow, life as I knew it blew up.  But I didn't blow up (even when I wanted to). I leaned in.  I listened.  When everything around me was chaotic, when I was crying and screaming and questioning everything, I never gave up on my truth.  I never compromised my own faith in myself and the universe.  As I lay in bed with a cold, reflecting, there's so much to continue to lean-in to.  And that is something I feel immense gratitude for.  That there will always be growth (if I commit to it).  Most obviously, I am grateful to have my own bed to rest in (after not having a bed for so long).  I am grateful for my body, despite having been through so much and so weathered down, she is still here, deeply yearning to heal.  And I am committed to healing with her.  To continue to say no to what doesn't feel right in my intuition in order to say yes to things I wouldn't expect to be in front of me.  To continue to shed - to strip ways of being I picked up that don't serve me, in order to become more and more of who I truly am.  This year, my vow is for unapologetic acceptance.  To not only allow myself to be unapologetically me, but to also accept her - whether in the stillness, the rapture, or the crash.

No compromise.  None.   I don’t mean with others, but with myself.  With my desires.  My truths.  My being.  I will not compromise.  This is my vow to myself - that I will not take less than what I need, what I know I deserve.  I will not deny my body, my inner self of what she requires.  This is essential to her wellbeing, I’m finding.  

I have said yes in my life too many times because I thought I should, even though she knew not to.  Yes, I will show up to this party for my friend even though I feel like complete shit.  Yes, I will sleep with you because it will be fun, even though I wish you were someone else.  Yes, I will take this low work rate, even though I know I deserve more.  Because what if I let my friend down?  Because aren’t I supposed to be enjoying myself?  Because what if more money won’t be coming in?  This is not the voice I want to feed.  This voice is the conditioned one.  The one who feels shame for being an artist.  The one who is scared to draw outside of the lines too often.  The one who was told she could do anything she wanted within the confines of certain rules.  The one who felt misled because why couldn’t she do anything she wanted without limits?  

Boundlessness.  That is what I’m seeking now.  I used to think this meant saying yes to everything.  If I say yes to everything, I will be led to exactly where I’m supposed to be.  I have said yes in my life to things I knew I didn’t want.  I’ve also said no to things I knew I didn’t want.  I would always second guess myself when saying no.  What if I’m supposed to go to Canada to work on this movie set for this amazing actress, instead of spending time building my own career?  Why did I say no?  This is the torture I would put myself through, even though I said no to pursue my own passion.  So I spent an entire year intentionally saying yes to see what would show up for me.  To sort of “test” it out. 

In 2016 I was working on a great freelance styling gig for a great company making great money, until it wasn’t so great.  Until I realized there was a lot of sliminess going on behind the scenes.  Until the person working above me verbally accosted me, and my body responded by being in a constant state of anxiety and fear when I was in the studio.  When I watched the same thing happen to another employee, that was it.  I left.  I was listening to my body, and I could not show up any longer in such terrible, negative energy.  And then I went back.  Because I was asked to.  Because I was experimenting with saying yes.  Because I knew I needed to show up to see what would happen.  My anxiety did not dissipate.  It worsened.   Eventually, I was sort of “phased out.”  I was not meant to be there any longer.  The universe took care of the situation for me.   Many things like this happened in that year, and it was all confirmation that my intuition always knows.  She never fails me.  

Discernment.  This is what I learned so deeply through these experiences.  I have always had a very strong intuition and even what I would call a gift of discernment.  Yet, I still would question myself.   No more.  Because I want more.  No does not mean turning down opportunities or shutting myself off from the world.  It means no, I will not compromise my truths for anything or anyone - not even for my own fears and uncertainties.  Saying no does not always look pretty.  I said no to a moldy apartment that was making me sick, even though it meant couch surfing and being away from my man and our dog.  I said no to every potential new home that didn’t feel right, even though it meant being being without a home.  I said no to working for disrespectful clients, even though it meant also saying no to money.  And yet, I feel stronger in myself than ever before.  I trust that I will be taken care of, without compromise.  

No compromise can always be applied to objects of attainment.  Why purchase or obtain (even if it’s free) something unless it’s 100 percent in line with what you need, deserve, and love.  If you apply this concept not only to your moral compass, but also to your Object Philosophy, you will begin to weed out the objects that don’t serve you and bring in ones that do.  

Stripping down to the root of who you truly are will always help you to collect more mindfully, and more importantly, to connect more intentionally to your things, your rituals, and yourself.  If you need guidance with this, you can book a one-on-one session here.  Feel free to get in touch with any questions.

Powerlessness.  I am powerless over people, places, and things.  Yes.  All I can control is how I respond.  Yes.  I am powerless to the will of the universe, and when I try to control everything, I become too hard, too stiff.  The world around me becomes too small.  

Somewhere along the way I misdirected my own power.  I became so intent on always doing the right thing.  To listening to some outside force.  What does the universe want for me?  Where am I supposed to be?  How is it supposed to be? In doing so, I stifled myself from making any forward movement in my life.  Big decisions became seemingly impossible, and indecision lead to inaction.  I was suffocating in my own idealist righteousness.  

But what about me?  What about what I want?  I forgot to trust my own desire.  I recently had a thought, a deep knowing, that I am conscious enough to follow that desire.   To do what I want.  To trust that I will be held regardless of what decisions I make.  That I can only do my best.  That indecision is more detrimental than making a “wrong decision” because without decision, there are no lessons.  No growth.  Taking risks - when the risk involves acting from our truth - allows us to know ourselves better.

Just like our decisions, our objects can either take us further away from ourselves or they can bring us closer to who we truly are.  They either create separation or connection.  We can give away our power to our objects by purchasing them or using them for the wrong reasons - to look cool, to fill a void, to complete us in some way, etc.  When we misdirect our power, we can veer from our truth in small ways or in big ways.  Are you holding onto something that's no longer serving you?  Perhaps something an ex gave you?  Or a gift from a friend that you really don't like?  Why are you keeping it?  Maybe you don't want to let go of the past, or you don't want to offend a loved one.  Your power (in the examples here) is directed at longing for a different time in your life or at people pleasing.  When you get clarity on these questions, you can start to clear out things that are simply taking up space in your life - physically and energetically.  

You can make simple, small steps to start directing yourself on a clearer path of truth.  Choose items that connect you to your center rather than items that create distance between yourself and your authenticity.  If you're acquiring something new - how will this object serve you?  Will it be apart of a daily ritual (mug for morning tea, incense holder for meditation practice, dish for hand soap)?  Is it to fill an empty shelf?  If so, did you see an picture on Pinterest and hunt for something online in order to re-create the image, or did you happen to stumble upon something unique at a flea market that you felt drawn to?  

With the holiday season here, we are urged to consume through Black Friday sales and through pressure to buy multiple gifts for friends and family members.  Purchasing in a frenzy in order to make quick decisions or to score items on sale is not a mindful practice.  The key is to slow down.  To quiet the needing, so that we can collect, rather than consume.  

I am available for one-on-one sessions to help guide you on this journey.  Learn to strengthen your connection to your objects, and in turn, to yourself.  I have a limited amount of open spots for the remainder of the year.  Book your session here.   Feel free to contact me with any questions you may have.  

Photograph by Lauren Moore

Free of makeup

heat or product to my hair

this is me

naked.

 

The marks on my legs show the millions of miles I have walked in this lifetime

the crevices of my hands allude to the many objects and many skins I have touched

all of those miles and those things and those people have not changed me, or altered me, or created me.

 

They have stripped me

to bring me to me.

 

Before acquiring objects, it is important to first come home to ourselves.  Objects are inanimate without us.  We give them purpose, significance, and life.  We bring them home.  Give them the truest home they can have.  Give them you.  Read more about this in Our Philosophy.