HOLISTIC WELLNESS BLOG
TRANSFORMING YOUR LIFE. LITTLE CHANGES MAKE A BIG DIFFERENCE
TRANSFORMING YOUR LIFE. LITTLE CHANGES MAKE A BIG DIFFERENCE
They were just going to get tipsy. That was the goal. Two childhood best friends, born two years apart but attached at the hip, as their mothers would say.
They were eight and ten years old when they met on the school bus in a quiet New England town. The younger girl moved in down the road from the older girl and they became fast and constant friends. Around the rest of the world they were shy, gawky and insecure, but when they were alone together, they became relaxed and silly and bold. The comfort they felt in each other’s presence allowed them to be their true, best young selves. They lived less than a mile away from one another on either side of a state park that the locals called The Castle, and the several hundred acres of woods that lay between them was their playground. They fancied themselves woodland creatures and this was their kingdom. It was their enchanted forest, full of folklore, fairies, and frogs. They were princesses and tomboys in equal measure. You were just as likely to find them knee deep in the Castle pond, catching fish and bullfrogs with their bare hands and running through the woods like wild animals (moms’ words again), as you were to find them singing Scarborough Fair in a round and pretending their horses were unicorns. Like twins with a secret language, they knew each other’s thoughts, and like sisters, they could fight like cats and dogs. Each turn of the season brought new adventure. They belly-crawled through spring meadow grass, seeing just how close they could get to wild cottontails, and peered over the pond’s edge where gelatinous masses of frogs’ eggs hatched into pollywogs. They caught fireflies in jars on warm June nights and found refuge from the hot afternoon sun under the generous shade of the pines. They washed away the sticky New England air in the inground pool behind the younger girl’s house and in the dammed-up creek in the woods behind the older girl’s home. They spent cool, rainy weekends listening to music and working puzzles in the older girl’s playroom, her mother making them lunches of chicken noodle soup and buttered bread. They rode their bikes through the swirling autumn leaves, the older girl always riding faster down the hills. They gathered up the cast-off plumage of oak, maple and birch into enormous piles and dove in, delightfully smashing crunchy handfuls into each other’s hair. Though the houses on their road were few and far between, they knew all their neighbors and all their neighbors knew them. They went trick or treating on Halloween night and caroling on Christmas Eve, flashlights and the moon through the bare arms of the trees lighting their way. They built snow forts, and sledded down their driveways or any clear hill they could find. Their childhood smelled like rich, sweet earth and decaying leaves, like horses and saddles, like skunk cabbage, bullfrogs and wet rocks. It smelled like honeysuckle and hot tar, like melting snow and raindrops, like wood smoke and pine. Their childhood smelled like the deep New England woods. When they had grown to adolescence, the woods offered cover as they gleefully spied on the boys at the private academy down their road. Like secret agents, they moved from tree, to rock, to tree, silently inching closer to the edge of the grassy school grounds, straining to get a better look at their crush du jour. On the rare occasions that they were discovered, they always had a well-planned escape route – like the time a big twig snapped loudly underfoot and gave them away. It was an all male boarding school and when the boys clapped eyes on the two girls in the trees it was like ringing the dinner bell for hungry field hands. One of them yelled “GIRLS!” and they all came running. “Oh, nice move, Hiawatha!” one girl teased the other and they screamed and laughed with giddy horror as they stealthily disappeared into the trees. The boys gave chase but the academy’s dorms housed young scholars from all over the state – meaning: this wasn’t their woods. Once the girls had vanished into the forest, which they had come to know like the back of their hands, the boys had no prayer of finding them. Plus, the boys weren’t allowed off campus. And so, it was. There would be first dances, first kisses and puppy love, and like the safety and sanctuary of their beloved woods, their friendship remained. Until one day the news came that the younger of the two would be moving away. Far away. A long plane ride away! It was a leveling blow and there was melodrama and many tears, but the decision had been made. In consolation their families promised that they could visit. The following summer, the promise of a visit was kept. It was on this trip that the idea of their first foray into the forbidden world of adult beverages came up. They were thirteen and fifteen years old, and they relished one other’s company as much as ever. They had a sleepover at the older girl’s house, just like old times. They sang every word of their favorite songs, giggled over crushes, debated the pros and cons of having short hair verses long hair, and stayed up to see if anyone good was on the late-night talk shows. “Have you ever had a drink?” the older girl asked. “Huh?” the younger girl said. “A drink. You know, booze!” whispered the elder. “No! Have you?” the younger replied. “No.” And after a long pause, “Do you want to try it? We can raid my parents’ liquor cabinet!” Half intrigued but always afraid of getting in trouble, the younger girl said, “I don’t know. I kind of want to but… what if we get caught?” “Oh, pfft! We’re not gonna get caught. It’s not like we’re going to get falling down drunk. We’ll just get a little tipsy! C’mon, live a little!” “OK,” the younger girl agreed, “we’ll just get a little tipsy!” She giggled when she said the word. It was such a silly word and, by virtue, it felt pretty harmless. They could not, however, just waltz over to the liquor cabinet and pour themselves a drink, so before they left the older girl’s bedroom, they had to have a plan. Having never “drank” before they weren’t quite sure how to go about it. What should they drink and how much? They didn’t know, so they decided they would just take a little bit from every bottle. It was the best way to leave no obvious evidence of their theft, since no one bottle would look like it was missing anything when compared to the others. They also decided that, once poured, they should bring it back to their room to drink, to lessen the risk of getting caught in the act. It was late. The older girl’s parents were asleep in their room down the hall and she needed to keep it that way. She gently clasped the doorknob and turned it as far as it would go. Willing it into silence, she eased open her bedroom door. She could hear light snoring coming from her parents’ room. They slipped out into the hallway, their bare feet on the carpet making no sound. Barely breathing, they moved in slow motion as they crept onto the stairs, toes hovering for an instant just above each step before making contact. Freezing in place when they thought they heard something. Regaining movement when the sound of light snoring confirmed the coast was clear. Step... wait... step... wait... step... wait... They moved like ghosts. Finally, they made it into the kitchen. The door to the liquor cabinet was one they’d never opened before. They knew where it was and what was in it, and there was an unspoken rule that it was strictly off limits but, until now, they hadn’t cared; they’d been far more interested in where the chips and cookies were kept. Tonight, that changed. Tonight, they had a laser focus on the bottom corner cupboard. Behind its door they imagined a portal into another world, a GROWNUP world. They opened the door to the cupboard and stared at its contents for a minute. In the windowless hallway, their eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness and, although they’d turned on no lights, the kitchen – with double windows over the sink - seemed bright by comparison. They stared at the bottles; some tall, some round, some square, some with textured glass and some with smooth. The low light of the moon through the windows glinted on the glass and danced on the surface of the various potions. It had already begun to intoxicate them. They grabbed two tall milk glasses and, silently working their way through the bottles, poured until each glass was about two-thirds full. Then, armed with their contraband, they tiptoed back to the stairs. Once returned to the safety of the bedroom, they got right down to business. They stood facing one another in the middle of the room, glasses in hand, eyes locked. There was no turning back. They were excited to cross a threshold and leave part of their childhood behind. “You ready?” the older girl asked. “Yeah,” the younger girl whispered, quickly nodding her head. They clinked glasses, whispered “cheers” and, bringing glass to lips, never losing eye contact, they each took their first tiny, timid sips. “BWAH!” the older girl said in a huge expulsion of air as her eyes flew open wide. A shudder ripped through the younger girl’s body from head to toe, like a wet dog flinging off water, and she said, “Holy shit, it burns!” They quickly gathered themselves and regrouped, looked at each other and nodded, indicating they were ready to go again. They took a second tentative sip. This time it went down just a bit easier. As the older girl pulled the glass away from her lips, she watched in horror and amazement as the younger girl kept going. She tipped the glass back, gulping down the rotgut concoction like a third-year frat boy. She chugged it all to the last drop without coming up for air, and with the bottom of the empty glass facing the ceiling and the rim still to her lips, she fell back on the bed behind her. Arms splaying out wide, milk glass loosely in hand and staring at the ceiling, she just lay there, astonished, waiting to see if she was going to puke . “Holy, shit!” said the older girl, laughing. “Are you ok? How did you do that?” “I don’t know,” the breathless, younger girl said, and as a smile moved across her lips she added, “but it felt pretty fuckin’ good.” She started to laugh, softly at first then louder and louder and, as a feeling of complete and utter release came over her, she raised her voice and said, “Holy SHIT!” “Shut UP!” said the older girl in a frantic hushed voice. And through her teeth she hissed, “You’re gonna wake up my parents!” Still lying back on the bed, the younger girl laughed and yelled out at the top of her lungs, “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING!” The feelings of self-doubt had left her. The low-grade anxiety that had been her constant companion for as far back as she could remember was gone. The worry of displeasing her father had vanished. The fear of not being good enough and that nobody liked her had disappeared. She felt free. For the first time in her young life, the invisible, inexplicable burden she’d carried on her narrow shoulders and the soft pressure, like a hand on her chest, had been lifted. Fears, pressures and weights that she didn’t even know were there until now, were gone. Having no other frame of reference, she had no sense or awareness of something that had always been there... until it wasn’t. That night she never did wake up her best friend’s parents – and the trip to the liquor cabinet was just another one of their thousands of secrets – but she’d gotten way more than tipsy. The girl who was shy and sweet and far too sensitive for this world had tasted freedom. And a demon had entered her young body leaving behind a key and a map. The next day the fear and the pressure were back but now she was aware of their presence… and a way to make them go away. Next week's post, the last of the complimentary previews, Chapter Three; White Porcelain on Thursday, December 24th at 10 am Eastern, 1: pm Pacific time Want to read it all right now? Order on Kindle or in paperback by clicking HERE! Thank you so much, xoAmie
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Different ages. Different decades. Different circumstances. There are specific events in our lives that shift our paths, write our stories and break our hearts, adding layers, depth and complexity to the clean-slated girls we once were. Each chapter in Part I of Kintsukuroi Heart is a non-fiction stand-alone story. A collection of vignettes offering glimpses of the exact moment in a woman’s life when something happens, either by choice or circumstance, that changes her course. In Part II we see how these experiences, though deeply personal and unique, are the threads that intertwine and connect us all, fostering compassion and empathy for one another and, hopefully, for ourselves. In Part III we see how, as women, like all forces of nature and works of art, our beauty is formed through refraction, revealed in dimension and contrast, shadow and light, our benevolence becoming both the result and the salve, the subject and lens. The road may be beastly but the result, if allowed, can be spectacular. “Kintsukuroi: kin-tsU-kU-roi (noun) (v. phr.) ‘To repair with gold.’ The Japanese art of mending broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object rather than something to disguise, understanding that the piece becomes more beautiful for having been broken.” “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” ~Maya Angelou~ Next week's post, Chapter One; Waiting Room on Thursday, December 10th at 10 am Eastern, 1: pm Pacific time Want to read more now? I can't wait to share this book with you! Order on Kindle or in paperback by clicking on the Amazon Link below! Thank you so much, xoAmie
This is an exceptional time we’re living in. The new normal is anything but. Even the most resilient among us may need reminding that being relegated to our homes to stay healthy, doesn’t mean we should act as though we’re home sick.
This is especially important if you suffer from depression, the late winter blues or early spring blahs, you’re just not feeling great about yourself, you’re grieving the loss of a loved one/marriage/relationship but on the road to recovery, you’re in early recovery from any type of addiction or otherwise trying to change or manage your mood or behavior. And if you’re not prone to any of these things but suddenly find yourself removed for your normal schedule due to social distancing or a self quarantine you may be finding it difficult to adjust. Even if you’re feeling pretty good about yourself right now but you have a tendency toward feeling otherwise - or just want to stay motivated - these little shifts in your morning self-care habits can make a big difference! Some may seem like no brainers - some may seem ridiculously simplistic - but if you’re staying home and beginning to feel not so great about yourself for any reason, letting the smallest of things slip can start to add up and work against you. Here is my top 10 list of a.m habits to help you feel good about yourself! 1. Get up! When it’s time to get out of bed in the morning, do it. Although lying in bed and reading for an extra 30 or 60 minutes on a Sunday morning can feel like a wonderful luxury and a reward for a long week, doing it on a regular basis doesn’t set the tone for a productive day. Try getting out of bed a little earlier than you have to instead of waiting until the last possible minute. Laying in bed too long isn’t a good habit 2. Let the light in. Once you’re out of bed open the curtains, pull up the shades and let the sun shine in. Even on a cloudy, rainy or dreary day the effects of natural light on your mood are well documented. 3. Make your bed. It looks nice, it sends a message that you’re up and ready to start the day, it gets your body moving even if just a little, and if you suffer from depression it may help keep you from crawling back into it for the day - I’m speaking from personal experience on this one! Plus, getting into a freshly made bed every night feels really great! 4. Drink a big glass of water. Before I have my morning coffee, I have my water. It wakes up my body and get things moving. Starting the day well hydrated - and staying that way - can make a big difference in how you feel. 5. Have a have a morning grooming routine even - and maybe especially - when you’re staying home. Keep up - or step up, now that you have the time - your wake up routine. Do it for yourself if no one else!
7. Move your body. Whether or not I’m going for a morning walk or run (and right now we’re self-isolating at home), I do a 5-minute yoga stretch (my video is linked here) with deep breathing. Try it. You’ll be surprised with what a difference it makes! COVID-19 Tip: Now that we’re socially distancing and staying home, extending this to a full yoga practice or morning stretch and guided meditation can help you feel wonderful. It’s also a great way to exercise if you’re housebound. 8. Make yourself a good heathy breakfast. I make oatmeal every morning. It couldn’t be faster or simpler. ½ cup of dry oats, a few dashes of cinnamon, a banana, ½ cup of water and 1 minute in the microwave. Bam, I have a hot, heathy breakfast in about 2.5 minutes. (2 minutes and 23 seconds… yeah, I timed this, too.) 9. Tidy your home. I grab my Swiffer’s (see below) and do a quick dust of the furniture and floor. If you don’t want to use disposable wipes to clean your floor you can substitute washcloths on your Swiffer floor duster, like I do (see below). Just poke the washcloth through the holes instead of the disposable cloths. It only takes a few minutes to freshen your surroundings. Nate Burkus said “Your home should rise up to greet you.” I believe that truer words cannot be spoken when it comes to your home. 10. Set some goals for the day. Even if one of those goals is to catch up on some much needed rest or practice self care, put it on you list and get it done! Why not use this time at home to try something new or return to something you love and have long left behind. Put it on the list and do it! A special note for skeptics: Taking care of your appearance matters. Why? Because you’re insides and your outside are not mutually exclusive. They are connected and both are parts of the whole you. I’m not talking about hiding behind a mask or false facade, I’m talking about simple things to let you - and your natural beauty - shine! If needed, remind yourself that self-care and self-esteem go hand in hand and are self perpetuating in both directions. The lower your self worth the less you’ll care about these things and the less you’ll want to put forth any effort. Conversely, the more you value yourself the more invested you’ll be in how you feel and care for yourself even - or perhaps especially - if no one else sees it! Here’s a litmus test. Have you ever left the house praying you wouldn’t run into someone you knew because you felt you looked an embarrassing mess? How did it make you feel? Now how about a time when you left the house feeling like a million bucks? Better, right? My wish for you is that you present yourself in such a way that you don’t care who you run into even if the only person you encounter is in the mirror. You should feel that good about yourself every day. Like I said before, it takes just as much time to put on something crappy as it does to put on something cute. It takes the same effort to put on an attractive pair of slip on sneaks* as it does dirty old flip flops. So up your game! You can do it and you’re worth the effort! The amount of time it takes to run a comb through your hair and chuck on some lip color is negligible. No matter how grand or humble your abode, your wardrobe or your presentation, keeping it neat can lift you up and allowing a mess can drag you down. It’s just that simple! *COVID-19 Tip: Do not wear street shoes in the house and if you do, sanitize them with an approved EPA-registered household disinfectant linked here. Of course be careful that you do a color test before wiping the tops and let them air dry thoroughly before walking around your house - lest you ruin a good pair of shoes or track a bleach solution all over your carpets! HEALING YOUR KINTSUKUROI HEART; Part 2
This is part 2 in a series. Click here for part 1 Last week we identified that low self-esteem is the original “gateway drug” even if your challenges have nothing whatsoever to do with substance abuse. Click here to read the post. I also said that, even if you don’t initially think it applies to you, I’d illustrate how it may - so stay with me. Today we’ll discuss how accepting this truth – that low self-esteem is source of our issues - can change this gateway drug into your gateway to healing. LET’S EXPLORE SOME SCENARIOS:
Do any of these statements – or a version of them – resonate with you? If so, read the one(s) that do(es) again, but this time tack on the words “Because I feel so good about myself.” at the end. For a clearer illustration you can watch the companion video here. Now you get it, right? It’s contradictory. Any type of behavior that doesn’t honor yourself or who you want to be, isn’t in service of your dream – or in pursuit of being or becoming the very best version of yourself, comes from a place of feeling “less than.” People who truly feel good about themselves don’t think, speak, or behave in ways that are people pleasing, unhelpful, unkind, lack understanding or have a positive purpose – regardless of whether it’s directed inward or outward. There’s no shame in feeling less than. It just is. And the sooner you can embrace that the sooner you can get on with doing something about making it better. Note – don’t confuse an inflated ego with a healthy self-worth! Ego is the opposite side of the same low-self esteem coin. People who feel good about themselves don’t have to blow themselves up in an attempt to impress others. A healthy self-esteem isn’t greater than or less than; It’s equal to. SO, NOW WHAT? I’ll tell you everything – step by step - in this series. Again - It’s free. There’s nothing to buy to gain access to all of it. If you’d really like you can read my book, Kintsukuroi Heart; More Beautiful For Having Been Broken, or order the companion workbook to this series, both on Amazon, but you certainly don’t have to. All you really need is occasional access to the internet and a pad and pen – real or virtual. Oh, and a deep commitment to change… if only you could order that on Amazon! HOW I AND WHY I CREATED THIS PROGRAM. I had issues. Big issues. As I mentioned before, the specifics of how those issues presented themselves aren’t important right now. I’ll talk more about them in a later video/blog. Initially, I worked through my issues by taking the traditional route of therapy, self-help groups and talking with friends, which all worked and I still recommend. But for me, they only worked for so long and only to a degree. They were either too costly, didn’t go deep enough or they addressed the symptoms and not the root cause; I needed to dig down and truly change the way I looked at things and, most importantly, change how I viewed myself. If I could do that, I knew my life would change. Over the years I’d gathered inspiration through books and movies. Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Gifts from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Under the Tuscan Sun (the movie). A Year by the Sea by Joan Anderson. Educated by Tara Westover. Wild by Cheryl Strayed. Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle Menton. The list goes on. However, most of the books and films in this genre, wonderful stories that I have deeply loved (I recommend them all and have linked them below), came from a place so unique that, although fabulously inspirational, were for me, mostly unrelatable or unactionable – the experiences of the very fortunate or wealthy, or situations so extreme that very few people find themselves – offering remedies that were simply out of my reach. I wasn’t in a position to take time away at the beach or travel around the world to find myself, I had to work! I didn’t have extra money or a scholarship to an Ivy League school. I deeply admired those who did and longed to be in their shoes, but I simply wasn’t. There were times when I couldn’t even afford to buy those books or a ticket to the movies, I checked them out of the library. But I read them. I watched them. They inspired me and gave me something to shoot for! So, being a determined and resourceful little bugger and having the professional training, I devised a way to do these extraordinary things – to embark on a life-altering journey of healing – without leaving home and with rather ordinary resources. These “ordinary” circumstances are what often stops women from doing something extraordinary. You are my people and I am here to inspire you! I put myself on an intense minimalistic, at home self-retreat. Exactly what I would do if I paid thousands of dollars to go away on retreat. I committed to addressing my issues via holistic wellness, intentional physical exercise, and the mind/body/spirit connection. I practiced yoga and meditation, and began living with defined intention. I unplugged and sought peace, quiet, and solitude. These things are easily accessible and available to all of us for free or at very little cost. In fact, once I went into this wholeheartedly – a time of concentrated self-discovery and minimalism - I actually saved a ton of money. This realistic vantage point is one way in which I feel this program is different; it wholly accessible and meets you at a place where many of us find ourselves when starting over. I know it works because I created it, I’ve applied it, I’ve lived it, I’ve practiced it and afterwards, the really poor life choices I’d been allowing to enter my life on a daily basis became inconceivable to me. Not because I focused on changing those choices but because I changed how I felt on the inside. I healed the person who was making them. The positive choices I began making became a symptom of how I felt about myself just like the negative ones had been. I didn’t work on the symptoms –I addressed the root cause of the symptoms. To be clear, I had to clean up the results of some of those choices and so will you. Not to worry, I’ll help. I’ll give you the tools and we’ll go over all of it, step by step. Now is your time to work on acceptance. To ready yourself to embark upon a journey of deep and lasting change and true transformation. Next week, we start the transformation. "A healthy self-esteem isn’t greater than or less than; It’s equal to." Amie Gabriel |
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