The other story of motherhood

This is not every mother’s story. It is mine.

One of the greatest gifts my son gave me in my birth ( I mean his birth) is showing me how overpowering my existence was no longer what worked. The hustle. The I can. The lemme just squeeze that in …because kids need non-linear space. Space to dawdle and find entertainment. Most of you know this apparently, so if you did, maybe hop over to another article. I didn’t. 

I mean – intellectually I knew that. Duh. But it was not embodied wisdom and it showed.

See I was great with adults, leading them into unforgotten places in their minds and bodies and helping them reclaim wholeness. I was the mystically minded that could extrapolate and understand the cross points in differing cultures and belief structures. I was the high school teacher that could lead teenagers to inquiry and understanding. I could do all of these amazing things, but kids — that was not my realm of understanding let alone expertise.

What you see in this picture is a woman drowning. She booked headshots to launch an executive tour of speaking in a five dollar old Navy shirt because there was no money at home. The night before the shoot there was also no sleep because the baby was teething.  For said woman (yes, me) there was also no styling happening because this picture was taken in the throes of postpartum hair-loss in a race against the clock.

What clock you ask? One that I had imagined.

The reality was that I was not going fully back to work because primarily, I didn’t want to leave my son and secondarily my partner at the the time was not making the money that would make any sense in me going back to work. 

Now, what is glaringly obvious to me now, was illusive then: I had choices. At the time, I couldn’t perceive any. I was exhausted, confused and in love with my child (my partnership was already dissolving even if I did not consciously choose to see it).  In so many of the photos, when I look into the eyes of this new Mom, I see how deeply out of body she was.

The kicker? I am a bodyworker. For the past decade I have worked to help women reengage their strength emotionally, physically and spiritually. I had locked in to a really great life and I loved it.  

Then I became a mother and life lead me back into my learning, into the spaces left unattended and away from the strengths I knew and understood.

It’s a big statement to leave there hanging. The reason it is hanging out there like that – was because that is how I entered motherhood: hanging out on a limb of my own consciousness, and I spent the second year of my son’s life trying to get back to a place that no longer existed. Even though, I knew it and wrote about it here.

Let me jump forward to the punchline for you – even when we are fully onboard to a change in our lives many of us lose a little piece of ourselves along the way, and we may not initially notice because we are so darn busy, or ecstatically grateful that how dare we complain or begrudge; unfortunately, unintegrated, undigested emotions, hang out taking space in our unconscious causing a raucous until we notice. They can wait years. Or longer.

So anyway, there I was in a rushed ensemble (there were shots in professional attire), and the places and lighting were fabulous, but all I could see when the photos came back were the vacancy in my eyes – confusion and a very obvious being stretched too thinnedness. Those pictures were worth their weight in gold because they served to wake me up to myself.  I was in a bit of a vacuum and those pictures said, “Hey life is hard because you aren’t really here. You need help.”

Now, mind you at the same time I was loving my son and snuggling, breastfeeding, and walking in the woods with him, but I didn’t understand how to do life. How was I supposed to leave him and go to work? What were we going to do as a family? What is this dynamic field that is Mother?

So many questions. I also had a 36 hour labor that ended in an emergency C-section so my body was also deeply in recovery. (There is so much more to that, and we can discuss it at another time, or you can listen to a podcast I did with my midwife, called “Peace starts with birth” here).

You know what happened? I did. I happened. I slowed down and started seeking out practitioners that could help me get back into my body more deeply. I started doing the emotional work of integrating my son’s birth, which I think is some of the most powerful, unspoken work, mothers can do – and I began to awaken to the truth that I could not live life the way I previously had.  

Why?

It wasn’t sustainable.

It had run its course.  

I was leaving the early summer of life – where you can run around endlessly expending energy, and was being tugged into my expansion of life, turning from what can I learn to what can I give. I was being slowed down to become more fully myself. 

But all I saw was failing. Not keeping up, and wondering how I had landed in a place that was so foreign to me – a place of frailty and dependency when I was the one that made dreams happen and flitted all over the world to teach and to heal, to learn and to love, now Life had sat me down and filled my arms with a miracle and where I thought I had to give (and you do you have to give a lot) what I really needed to learn was to receive. That I was worthy of this precious one and that he was in good hands – mine.

The funny thing about how the shoot ended – was this photo. The photographer took me to a place in the woods that I loved and walked for decades. When we arrived a man was serendipitously playing a digeridoo to the water. I kicked off my shoes and let my feet sink into the Earth.

“There you are,” the photographer said.

And it was true, for all the confusion and even the rhetoric of this writing, I had never been lost, I had always been here waiting for my own presence to catch up to me.  We can be lost and found at the same time. We can be complete and broken down (or open). We can be masterful and have worlds to learn, thankfully, that option of growth and presence is always with us, underneath our feet, and holy intact in our next breath.

Some mothering stories are easy. Some are not. What I have learned to embrace is that the sacred bond between my son and I is a fluctuating one of student and teacher. Yes, indeed it is the role of parent to hold the space and the responsibility, but the soul growth between a parent and child is a dynamic all on its own, dancing so that the growth is exponential. I recently read Edward Bach speak of parenting:

“Fundamentally, the office of parenthood is to be the privileged means (and indeed it should be considered as divinely privileged) of enabling a soul to contract this world for the sake of evolution. If properly understood, there is probably no greater opportunity offered to mankind than this, to be the agent of the physical birth of a soul and to have the care of the young personality during the first few years of its existence on earth…ever remembering that the wee one is an individual soul come down to gain his own experience and knowledge in his own way according to the dictates of his Higher Self, an every possible freedom should be given for unhampered development.”

Even the unexpected lessons.

This is why to know ourselves, to care for ourselves and to seek out the support so we may rise to the call is a process never-ending. This is why being broken open — or in my case falling deeply into an understanding of a whole new way was necessary for both of us.

If you are gifted with the care of another, by birth or by life, I bow to you. If you are sitting with a mistake you have recently made, may I offer you the permission to apply a lense of learning, a scent of compassion, and large cup of release with a deep cry for grace, so that you may once again feel the presence of you in all of your brilliance.

To you, thanks for being here,

Kate

—

If you were reading and thinking — wait, where do I get this reflection in my own life? Maybe we can help. We have a 6 week intimate program called Root to Rise to clear confusion, define your focus and stabilize your vision for what you want to create in your life — and creating calm or peace counts, feeling strong in your body counts.

Don't deny your intelligence

Join us on Rebirth with teacher and alchemist, Lilavati Devi as we take an honest walk through the terrain of 2020. We talk about the great importance of self care, the razor's edge of spiritual vs. familial interactions, and their one in the sameness. We talk of dismantling, the arduousness and the ease found in surrender. Lilavati shares her brilliance in elegant humility and grace. Find out more at www.aromabliss.com, take a class & get some nasya to breathe into these times. ☯️ Mention Rebirth while placing your order. Follow her @lilavatidevi

Listen to the whisper, the small questions that have "no right to go away"

you ever wanted to make a change and ended up in the same cycle of “Here we go again?” In this episode, we talk about shifting our focus away from goals and honing in on the process of change. Shifting away from “by any means necessary” and moving into the slow formidable change of growth that comes from patience and presence.

I also share with you David Whyte’s poem, the forrest floor of silence in our own contemplation and create some space for you to hear your own ponderings, turning down the dial of distraction and journeying inward. The Magic in the Mundane episodes of Rebirth are Kate’s musings on the moment in our collective desire to have a little more peace and an exquisite cup of coffee (this episode was dandelion tea) with a good friend.

If you are interested in creating that space for yourself, join the Early Birds for Master your Mornings. Learn more here.

To the hard questions that have no right to go away,

Kate

How can water help you be more creative?

“When I am on the verge of losing it, raging or spinning out, spiraling into how exhausted or off track I am, I call out to myself and say, `Honey, you are just thirsty. Drink. Take a drink.’”

My client said this in an appraisal of herself and I almost dropped the phone at her clarity. We are thirsty. We are dehydrated and standing atop a planet full of water.

I do this to myself too: Search and search, turning away from the simple answers because we have turned away from simplicity, or as likely, we are more comfortable struggling for our power than residing in it.

The Now only needs our presence. Asks for our presence and that simplicity is startling enough to stop your breath, and yet one of the easiest ways to be present is to breathe.

Take a breath now.

Let it go.

Take another breath now, and let that one leave, too.

 [Click here to receive a free meditation to find your center]

Why do we need to be reminded to breathe?

Why when we are invited to breathe do we relish in it yet this autonomic function is forgotten as so as we turn away our attention. Mind you, it is not the function ceasing, only our awareness of it.

This client is not the first woman to mention that “a lot of things go wrong when we are dehydrated.” That we cannot fully function without having our basics covered. Just like the overly used car analogy: we too cannot run on an empty tank; what is even more fascinating is that we are more sure to attend to the cars’ mechanics than our own. Both operating vehicles, car and body, have become things that only the “experts” know – and that is where we have gone off track so to speak. Fine that Paul, my favorite mechanic at Almond Street Garage, is keeping me informed of my cars’ needs, yet I need to be mindful of my body’s needs. I need that relationship. That is not only my responsibility as much as a key to creating my joy.

In this Now moment can we feel our feet? How about the breeze – can we reconnect to the cycle that supports life, our own and that all around us? We are mindful what gas we place in our car. Are we mindful of the octane that we put in our body? I mean really. Are we consuming quality or are we snacking on marketing? There is a major difference.

Water has become a commodity.

We can change that.

Patterns can be undone.

Water is a necessity for you.

It is.

Your power is a necessity for your creation.

Your connection to yourself is a key to your power.

So coming back to my client’s insight, our conversation wound back to: Keep it simple.

Are you doing the basic things to help keep your cup full. I mean, the metaphors are there for a reason why not use them?

Are we checking in with the simplest action or answer first?

Are we considering our body state or only our to-do list?

Can we look at the natural world for examples?

Hint. Your pets drink water when they need to. Plants bend towards the sun. Nature uses the same building blocks for you.

So Honey, take a drink.

Then with that satiated compassion for Self, let’s look at what else you are thirsting for out of your life because beauty abounds here.

Small actions can add up to big pattern changes. if you are looking to create change, establish new patterns and live more like you, you can start here: to receive a free meditation to find your center.

Stay connected,

— Kate

Who told you to think that way?

If you can site this source — please let me know in the comments and I will amend this post.

Yesterday I was either scrolling or skimming and something caught my eye. The author ‘asked you: “Have you ever received a text from a friend and took it one way, and later found out that wasn’t the senders intent?” Meaning, your friend wasn’t trying to dismiss you, but you read the content through a filter and thought they intended to hurt your feelings, say the wrong thing, discount your perspective et cetra, et cetra. They explained that when you begin to interpret something with an “I’m sure this s going South” type of reaction, pause and ask yourself:

Who told you that?

It’s a brain interrupter.

It alerts you you are creating a story from a pattern and not the moment.

Now — of course — when were in a clear situation we don’t need this. We are talking about when we write the story of hurt through assumption and - more often than naught - we don’t know we are doing it. The subconscious is a wily thing, an unreliable friend, so when we assume, well, you remember how that ditty goes.

Text and email are a heavily used form of communication, but unlike a phone call or in person conversation, there is very little subtlety or nuance of tone (emojis do not always cover it, people) and no context of body language for either of you.

So, before you text back in a frustration, ask yourself: “Who told you that?” If you cannot trace it, the source could be a story in your head that will create unnecessary heartbreak for both you and the receiver.

If you want to take another turn of the spiral, when you are having a bad day and the tape of “This will never work out” comes through, ask yourself “Who told you that"?” and let the answers come.

For more ways to sit and unravel the stories that aren’t true, or to learn more ways to become better friends with yourself, join our community newsletter here.

xo,

Kate

It died a natural death.

I recently let go of something (does it matter if it is a person, place or thing?), and I was - in Kate fashion - getting ready to explain the depths of what had happened, when over coffee on a very bright, and sunny Tuesday my girlfriend Heather shrugs, “It died a natural death.”

My mouth gapes. “That is exactly what happened,” I realize.

“Yeah, I know I just figured that one out myself. It just died a natural death. It’s over.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah. A natural death. Saying ‘natural’ is the most important part,” she shifts her shoulders to demonstrate.

“It is,” I squeal, confirming my perplexed awe at the simple truth.  “It happens all the time in Nature.”

“Yeah, it happens all the time everywhere. It returns. And something new is born - eventually.”

“Yeah.” I am pretty sure my face is still squinting at the simplicity - because it is true. I was hunting for a story - I now realize - and had been practicing the arc line when I was telling it to others in order to justify it to myself,  but the truth - the truth is : it died a natural death. 

It was time to let go.
End of story.

Now is a potent time to let go what has been begging for release. Too strong? But, it’s true, right? I mean if no one is watching you’d agree deep down you know it is time to let it go.

Sometimes this is best to do alone.

And sometimes a container serves the support and boundaries needed.

On July 20, 2020 Sit In Your Center, a retreat for women to reclaim and remember who they are, opens for a four week journey. The goal and support of this class is to feel good in your own skin and your own life again. We do this through weekly live calls, a guided weekly practice to reengage us with the feminine aperture (How we work. How our neurology computes and how to make the best of what we are - because why has no one taught us that?) and how empowerment can ignite through embodying who you are now. Yep. It is a potent step. And part of that reclamation comes from making space - and, like Elsa sings, to “Let it Go” so what is wanting to be born can come through whether through major change, or most significantly in the subtle ways you feel more at peace with yourself.

Want to learn more? Click here to read more about our July 2020 community or get on the waitlist for the Sit In Your Center self-led course running again in August.

---

In Blackwater Woods
by Mary Oliver
​
Look, the trees
are turning 
their own bodies 
into pillars

of light, 
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything 
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
lends back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation, 
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it; 
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

originally published in May 2017

Why gratitude journaling helps you smile more

Keeping a gratitude journal might sound trite; it’s not. Our preferences and habits create a filter in our mind’s eye, to find what we are seeking. Alex Korb, Ph.D. explained: “…your brain loves to fall for the confirmation bias, that is it looks for things that prove what it already believes to be true.”

I would add, it looks for its preferences. For example, I was walking with my two year old nephew the other day. “Plane, plane!” He says to me. Looking up in the sky, I see nothing but a tree-scape. Slowly my mind hears the tell-tale sign of a plane just before it peeks past the limits of the tree-line. 

Ryan, my nephew, is fascinated by planes, trains and trucks. His awareness is fine-tuned to them, so he found them. He found what he wanted to see.

Some of us are complainers. Some of us aren’t. Some of us are in process of re-training our mind’s habits. You cannot control the chaos of life; you may only control your reaction. Does seeing a beautiful flower change horrible news? I don’t know. I know for a moment I get to be soaked in the beauty of nature, where I otherwise would not. So for me, it works. Moment to moment.

But what power can a gratitude journal have? Well, I recently watched the documentary Happy where the neurologists found that people who keep a gratitude journal are happier people because…wait for it…they have trained their minds to find things to be grateful for.

I keep a gratitude journal - bullet-point style and I aim for tiny, tangible things, like: perfect latte art, hug from partner, no traffic to work, feather that made me think of a loved one, and a great client session. I aim for 5 things a day.

Some days I struggle for five — and here is where the brain-functioning gets fascinating — when I am thinking of my five things, my brain is literally calling out an “all-hands-on-deck” moment to my memories for the day:
​
“Does anybody have anything we can give Kate to write down for number five?”

The mind continues to skry for information - it wants to please the request. The more you place the request for moments of gratitude, you literally train the mind to look for things to be grateful for, even if only under the guise of writing in your journal at the end of the day ( Personal tip: I enjoy re-visiting yesterday’s grace over my morning cup of coffee as a peaceful way to write my mind into place). The more you look for things to be grateful for, the more you find. The more you find reasons to be grateful, the more grateful you feel. Your mind is a puppy-pleasing entity that wants to complete tasks that will merit a reward.  

What have you trained your mind to retrieve?
Consider taking on a gratitude practice and see what you find. 

Leave a comment and share your joy with us.
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What phase are you in? || Kate discusses how knowing what phase you are in can help orient you + save time and stress.

Listen here

After you listen, let me know your a-ha’s. Do you think in seasons? Can we bring back this way of living in connection?

I think so, What about you?