THE MOST IMPORTANT BLOG I'VE EVER WRITTEN.

The tears rolled down and I welcomed them, imparting salty trickles into my mouth. I’d committed to myself, and anyone who might have stumbled upon my last blog, to spend a month without my psychological creature comforts. Those included reading, writing, exercising, meditating, Google, and social media. I run to these things, daily, as sources of “personal progress.” Maybe not social media, but it’s a time suck nonetheless, and the name of this game wasn’t to confront modern and seemingly benign addictions but instead to create space in the form of time and silence, something most of us have absolutely none of.

When was the last time you sat alone in a room with no devices, no book, and no agenda?

Yeah, me either, until a month ago.

The first two days, when my toddler blessed me with a nap, I sat alone and basked in a sense of relief. There was no pining. I just felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted, the self-imposed pressure to perform, to move, to check in. We live in a culture where we call this “lazy.”

I began to ask guidance for epiphanies, for opportunities to heal, knowing I had some long-standing emotional wounds surrounding things that had origins in childhood, stuff that I’d carried with me and imprinted upon my adult interactions, further blistering my psyche.

I could feel the senselessness of this little girl business, the suitcase of irrational insecurities I’d chosen to tote around with me from year to year. You know the one, we’ve all got em, some heavier than others and necessitating wheels with that handle thingy, no matter how loving our families. I don’t think we actively choose to hold onto these trinkets requiring a reckoning, they’re instead like tangles in the hair, growing into unmanageable frizzy knots if not eventually addressed, sometimes mandating scissors and impetuous removal, inevitably rendering us incomplete.

Sheep in wolf’s clothing.

We have to address our in-authenticities, we can’t bury them and continue on with much sense of fulfillment and peace. That suitcase will find you… or whatever is left of you, even if you ditch it at the station, and you’ll do crazy things to evade it.

According to the book The Sacred Science, by Nick Polizzi, which inspired my month of soul solitude, avoiding those tangles can ultimately lead to physical and emotional illness, although I’d consider them one in the same. Attempting to separate mind from body is a futile cause in this human condition unless you’ve reached enlightenment.

On the third day, I had an exchange with a friend, one in which she called out my inauthenticity. It grated at that inadequate little girl, tucked deep within, hurting at abyssal depths. My ego born personality protections couldn’t save me from this because she wasn’t allowing it. Usually, we’re non-confrontational and everyone pretends they didn’t notice. Most of us require this anyway because the “other”, signifying us and them, has to be in the perfect space to receive and that’s rare, at best. At first, I played dumb, although my reactions and defenses are so ingrained, my response didn’t feel premeditated. I had to sit in silence with this, alone and undistracted, to allow the pain and mortification to linger, to permit fessing up to the infraction. If I’d instead grabbed a book or popped in a workout video, I could’ve glided through it unscathed, shoving the little girl into submission… but I didn’t.

Cue the aforementioned waterworks. They flowed for the better part of an hour, and although I knew my friend was also operating from little girl injustices that were somewhat unfair to me, I went back and owned my in-authenticity with her. It was so hard, I felt practically blind as I forced the words forth. I had to really step outside from myself and that angry lil’ ego to get the job done.

And afterward, the Universe (for lack of an all-encompassing word… you can say God, Jesus, Buddha, whatever speaks to your heart) rewarded me with the most gorgeous release. That child within harbored so much fear, anger, and hurt, she used judgment for years to protect. She’d learned that judgment spared her from empathy and empathy spared her from true connection and true connection spared her from possible pain. If you allow yourself to love and respect others, seeing their inner child, if you open your heart to that degree, hurt is a risk you run. She’d also learned that placing herself in a position of authority, the well-intentioned helper, imbalanced the equality of her friendships- more protection, less connection.

It proved to be a sad and lonely space, even with friends to fill it.

And I took a moment to love that child, to remember why she had to do this. I could feel myself as that little girl all over again. I cradled her. I wept for her. I wept as her.

I forgave her.

And just like that, it felt over. The judgment was gone, with only love and understanding left to replace it. The Universe required far less from me than I’d assumed, just transparency, self-love, space, and willingness.

I repeated this experience, but with different situations and people, a number of times during the month. I couldn’t pull it off daily. I required time to assimilate in between, long pauses to decompress and reflect, to re-energize. Each time I left with complete and utter forgiveness of other and self, with an understanding of why each of us must operate as we have and do. This is THE thing we are missing, absentmindedly tiptoeing around it with our busy-ness, feigned or otherwise.

During the last week, my husband showed me a book by Ram Dass, Grist for the Mill. As generally happens for me with books, it called to me on every level, beckoning me in, and I could not turn my back, in spite of the self-imposed reading hiatus. I was immediately mesmerized. I found myself stopping to stare at his face on the cover, taking absolute comfort in the knowing of his eyes. His words encompassed every bit I needed solidified, my hungry soul feeling more satiated with each sentence.

I speak to you now as a less encumbered woman, holding hands with my inner child, gently pulling her forward when she needs prodding, acting as her mother now, only wanting the best for her, even if that means she needs to leave me. I’ve carried her for so long, impregnated with her fears, just the symbolic thought of her taking leave crushes my heart whilst I type this sentence, eyes beginning to moisten and again stream.

Our journey is not over. We have more battles to face together, more pain to relinquish. It’s safe to say the only addiction I’ve come away with is to creating space, even if it’s only 30 minutes for a few days per week. This is the best medicine I’ve ever taken, more miraculous than any drug, more healing than any workout. The key to liberation lies within. Don’t be afraid. She’s waiting for you.

-Angi

You are all that is right in this world.

You are love.

You are beautiful, in every sense of the word.

You deserve everything you want and more.

You have touched so many souls on this journey.

It’s time to hold your own.

There are no cosmic mistakes, every human exchange is an opportunity for love and growth, which are never mutually exclusive.

Trust that all decisions you make at the soul level, inspired by true loving kindness to self, will be shrouded in protection and, in time, rewarded.

Do not make the journey of others your own. This is yours and that is theirs. Allow them to stumble and learn… even your children. Loving guidance followed by space for growth.

How to carve out soul space:

1. Removing social media isn’t imperative, if you can keep your hands off of it during the designated time, but I recommend it, because your mind will be less encumbered with other people’s business (and busy-ness) and you’re likely to create more time.

2. No need to stop exercising, if you can fit both in.

3. Quitting reading seems important, if you’re a book junkie. If you like fiction, the inability to run away into someone else’s life will be helpful. If you are a self-help fiend, making sure your thoughts are your own and that YOU guide yourself through these uncomfortable emotions is a must.

4. Meditation didn’t prove fruitful for me during this period since I wanted to hyperfocus and retain ties to the ego/personality.

5. It may be helpful after a particularly emotional session to take some notes afterward. I wanted to remember other issues that came up for future sessions.

6. Most importantly, know that you are taking this space to emote, to dig deep. Ask spirit to enable that for you. They’ll oblige. Set your intention and all will eventually unfold.

THE SACRED SCIENCE OF HEALING- Is Illness all in Your Head?

Assuming my toddler blesses me with a nap and my oldest two have made it to school, my general routine is to work out, meditate, bathe, and then read some form of self-help book or write. In the midst of the last bit, I usually hear a “Mommmmyyyy, where are you?” cuing me that personal time is over.

I’m aware that not all mamas are fortunate enough to have time for themselves. I was counted among them for a spell, and I thank my lucky stars that in this moment, I’ve been graced with a gift. Knowing that it’s limited, that nap times are soon to come to an end, or that life may shift in unexpected ways, I feel pressure to make every second progressive, worth its weight in gold. I don’t do chores, watch TV, nap, or scroll social media. No time sucks, no energy drains, only activities that I know build me up.

But recently, I’ve had a book-induced epiphany. I am in the midst of The Sacred Science by Nick Polizzi. It's one of those rare reads where you feel like your life is changed two chapters in. Polizzi had a debilitating health ailment, for two years in his 20’s, that modern medicine couldn’t seem to touch or understand. Somewhat by accident, during a particularly low moment for him, a friend called and guided him through tapping, also known as EFT. During this experience, Polizzi uncovered an emotional experience he’d been unknowingly holding onto anger about for years. That realization essentially cured him of his illness instantaneously. He then became somewhat obsessed with researching natural healing, which led him to shamanism. A shaman is a medicine man or woman who uses herbal remedies and energy healing. There is an assumption that all physical illness is a manifestation of spiritual/psychological issues that need tending to, as was the case for Polizzi.

Sometime after his rather spontaneous healing, he was moved to make a documentary about modern-day shamanism, hoping to share the information with the world at large, allowing people to explore alternative healing methods and raise awareness about how quickly the Amazonian jungle (which holds key medicinal plants) is dissipating. It’s worth noting that 25% of pharmaceuticals are made from plants in the Amazon (documentary fact), and that thousands remain unclassified and yet to be researched.

He selected eight individuals from 400 applicants, who were willing to go with him and his camera crew to the Amazon. They would be in the care of three shamans, each specializing in different areas and having proved their healing abilities time and time again. These shamans are normal guys who either fell into healing through bloodline and ability or via curing their own chronic illnesses with the help of a medicine man, then realizing that they too were called to be shamans. They live simple, spiritual lives and don’t advertise their skills. Most shamans have day jobs and tend only to their immediate communities when people are in need. These men and women are deeply spiritual, without ego, and helping others is what drives them.

The eight volunteers had a range of illnesses, from depression to stage four cancer. They were each to stay alone in an isolated individual hut, for 30 days. No running water, no electricity, no books, no contact with family or friends, no electronic devices, just a notepad and pen, with a hole in the ground for bathroom breaks. They were very removed, deep in the jungle, with every variety of creature one could imagine, making noises of all kinds through the dark and solitary night. They were to mostly stay in their extremely modest huts all day, only seeing the shamans two times for healing work and receiving very basic meals of quinoa and vegetables. The healing they underwent was nothing short of miraculous.

The only company each person had was their own thoughts. Here’s where my epiphany comes in, and I think it'll resonate with most of you. I’ve got this solo time a few days per week, but how often am I truly alone with my thoughts? Um, pretty much never. I’m filling those spaces up… even if it’s with “progressive” activities. And are these activities truly healing (because we’re all in need of healing one way or the other) and progressive or are they really just a distraction from such.

I’ve got demons I want to battle, buried emotional pain (like everyone else), some health issues that could use mending. No matter how many self-help books I read, will true healing occur without me giving it space?

It’s no accident that one of the most important aspects of the eight patients healing protocol is solitude. They have to create space to feel all the amazing emotions along with all the ugly ones, facing fears head-on.

So, I’m saying sayonara for four weeks, as of Monday. I won’t be checking into any social media. Google is going to miss it’s number one fan. My spam is going to pile up. There won’t be any book reading or blog writing. Removing things of comfort is also important, the things we run to out of avoidance, so my favorite tea is going. Favorite foods are out. I’m eating for sustenance. Exercise, out. I’m going to spend those nap times alone in my room or on a quiet walk. I may try tapping or meditation, but the rest is gone, baby gone.

Peace out. I’ll see you on the flipside and let you know what I’ve learned.

-Angi

*If you’d like to watch the documentary "The Sacred Science," here is the link. Nick Polizzi is so passionate about preserving the Amazon and ancient healing practices of Shamanism, that he ultimately elected to make the documentary free. It’s definitely worth watching, but the book is incredibly insightful and has a lot more background information about the patients, Polizzi, and outright gems from the Shamans themselves. I felt that a lot of important information didn't make the movie. Your best bet is to read the book and then watch the documentary… time well spent.

AGE OLD DOGMA- Chances are You're Inadvertently Slighting Your Child.

“Mom, I’m hungry.” “No you’re not, you just ate dinner.”

“Mom, I’m cold.” “You’re fine, you have a jacket on.”

“Mom, I’m scared in the dark.” “There’s nothing in your room to be afraid of.”

How many times have you uttered one of those phrases or something similar? Chances are several times… today.

I didn’t think much of my “go-to” responses to my children’s pleas until I read a parenting article that turned everything on its head. Per usual, I can’t remember what the hell the article was or where I read it, but the fundamental directive stuck.

Those exchanges probably look relatively harmless, but the underlying message being sent to your child is, “You don’t know how you feel.”

How many of us, as adults, suffer from an inability to decide what is best for ourselves? We turn to others for guidance or enter into complete paralysis when faced with a choice. Many of us (me, me!) languish in decision fatigue- we weigh all of our options, spending hours researching, afraid to pull the trigger and realize later that we’ve chosen poorly. ( I mean, what if I don’t look at all 565 pages of rugs on Overstock? What if the best one is on page 565??) By the time we’ve invested umpteen energy we are “fatigued” and overwhelmed, with compromised judgment for deciding anything at all. 

We are the product of this type of parenting, through no fault of those who raised us. They were simply doing what they were taught via their own childhood experiences. Should we really trust the self-knowledge of a four-year-old anyway?

Yes and no. The importance of our responses has less to do with the actual thing occurring and more to do with what’s being intimated to our child via what we say. Two things are unfolding: We’re disregarding their ability to know themselves and their own feelings, but we are also devaluing them. If every time you expressed that you were cold, your husband responded to you with, “You’re fine, you have a coat on,” you’d go ape shit on his ass after the second time (more likely the first). You’d feel about the size of a crumb after a couple weeks of being consistently discounted.

Imagine how our babies feel. (Heart currently breaking.)

Does this mean that I have to cater to my child’s every whim? No. It does mean that instead of glossing over his thoughts and feelings, I should take a moment to listen and discuss. If he says he’s hungry 30 minutes after dinner (five minutes if you’re River), I can say something like, “Okay, I hear you. I understand you’re hungry. I noticed you didn’t eat much of your meal. Do you think that might be why you’re still hungry? Would you like to finish your dinner?” To which he for sure will reply, “No, I’m full of my dinner. I want a banana.” I’d then have to let him know that at our house we don’t have snacks if we haven’t finished our meal. Same outcome, different approach, and it maybe took an extra minute. But, he felt heard and his feelings were not ignored. In short, he recognized his value.

Life is busy. It's easy to fall into the habit of treating our children’s requests like nuisances when we are rushed and trying to accomplish more than we can handle. We love them SO much, and we’re doing all of this business for them, but we don’t want them to think that they are nuisances. A shift in response can make a world of difference in the confidence of your now child and future grown-up. The little things count for more than we can often imagine. Deliberating over a rug is a relatively harmless offense, but the consequences of a child who doesn't have faith in her own ability to monitor herself can be devastating, as a wee one and as an adult.

During childhood, I remember being as unimpressed with my parents' alleged acumen as my children often are with mine, assuming I had all the answers and feeling extremely frustrated when told otherwise. I can also identify with, at times, feeling like a dismissed and insecure child as an adult. We’re all souls of the same size, mature upon arrival, housed in bodies of different statures, controlled by brains of varying development and just looking for love, connection… acceptance. Reminding ourselves of that innate sense of being and our mutual desires that bind us together, big and small, is an amazing way to behold our children through a more empathetic lens, offering them the respect that they, like us, not only yearn for but wholeheartedly deserve.

-Angi

MINDFUL MAMA- Can You be Grateful AND Still Want More?

I’m writing this with hopes of an epiphany by blog’s end because I’ve found myself in a spiritual quandary. Mindfulness, that’s the name of the game… staying in the moment, soaking it up while trying not to think about desires and impending future obligations.

It’s one variety of content. And, it’s a challenge, even on our best day. Staying present with your children or husband when to do lists are accumulating in every corner of your brain, taking a moment to stop stirring your curry that’s on the verge of turning from perfection to burned, to truly see the LEGO creation your son is holding up to your face. This aspect of mindfulness takes commitment and practice.

Then there’s the facet of mindfulness that involves loving yourself for who you are in this very moment, the recognition that you are perfectly imperfect as is, RIGHT NOW. Self-acceptance. That doesn’t come easy either. How to push out the lingering mental post-it notes that you wanna lose five pounds, stop drinking coffee, and oh yeah, be more present with your kids. Running is a time when I feel that I receive guidance… maybe it’s the “zone” I’m in, or maybe it’s a lack of oxygen, but personal revelations tend to show up there. I was having a rough go of things (the control freak that I am) and while sprinting a straight shot down a path, sun beating on my face, a voice clearly said to me “you are enough in this moment.” I felt amazing afterward, zen master status, goosebumps all over, but it sure as shit didn’t make it any easier to pull the whole self- love thing off.

And then there’s self- improvement, striving to be better, to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. For me, among other things, that involves trying things that will put me in a position of being criticized (vulnerability issues much?). Blogging, that’s one example of how I’m pushing against the cozy walls I’ve created for myself. I’m out there, not just on a personal level, but creatively and intellectually. There are people who may feel that my writing skills are no bueno or that my ideas should be saved for a home journal. I’ll never know what everyone's thinking, and that’s extremely unnerving for me. I could quit. God knows I’ve wanted to. But, “they” tell us (whoever “they” are), that outside of our comfort zone is where growth happens, so I press on, reminding myself that others opinions don’t matter (which also feels like a half-truth).

Here’s where the quandary comes in. My big question… how do we stay “in the moment”, accepting ourselves as “perfectly imperfect right now” while still “striving to be better?” Feels like there are some incongruencies there. I’m over here trying to manifest living in Bali for a year while sitting in my living room attempting to appreciate the house I’m in. I’m working on trying to start a lil’ business to make some moola, to help pay for my future Balinese lifestyle, while endeavoring to be purely in the moment with my little girl as we rearrange the furniture in her Peppa Pig dollhouse. I’m finally a stay at home mom, and I’m scheming about things that are going to rob me of the peace that brings, a peace I’ve craved for years... but limitations aren’t supposed to be part of my vocabulary. I’m spending her nap time lifting weights and jumping around the house while trying to love my perfectly imperfect body and still pay homage to my physical temple. I’m closing my eyes to meditate every day in an attempt to get “more mindful” and appreciative, when I could be quietly drinking up views of the mountains from my living room windows, heart swollen with gratitude.

As I write this, in search for answers, I notice the word “self” is a consistent theme. Embracing the “self” in order to detach from “self.” More confusion as the cursor blinks at me, waiting for the words to pour forth, but my self is stuck. Deep breaths… because “they” say the answers are within as long as we quiet the personality and listen.

My intuition is telling me that maybe I’m trying too hard. That all of this “self-help” is turning into self-involvement. This focus on filling each moment with growth isn’t leaving space for true mindfulness, just a distraction from such. Maybe it shouldn’t take this much effort. Me trying to detach from Angi doesn’t allow for proper appreciation and unconditional acceptance of the Angi I’ve been given in this go around at humanity.

So, what does that look like? Do I stop with the forward progression, the endless striving? That doesn’t feel right either.

Bear with me, as I have an internal dialogue that the rest of you now have to be privy to.

Does wanting more have to mean that you don’t love what you’ve got? Maybe loving what I’ve got actually creates the desire for more because it feels so good to have that joy, achievement, or fulfillment.

I’m going to leave us with that because I want to hear from my fellow Mindful Mamas. It’s all I’ve come up with after one meditation and a long, quiet bath.

Maybe I’ll be back with a more inspired explanation next week. A few more baths and meditations might help, or maybe I should just stare at the mountains until then...

-Angi

EXPECTATIONS AND LET DOWNS- Allowing for Personal Growth in Marriage.

Over a decade ago, I stumbled upon a life-changing article in Oprah magazine (still killin’ it to this day, Opes). I nervously tore it out, knowing it would necessitate repetitive reading and slipped it into my purse when no one was looking. I then waited for the nurse to open the door and beckon me in, feeling every bit a criminal. I'm soooo bad. Alas, I still have the paper, likely folded and stowed away into a tiny corner of a drawer or bin somewhere, but four moves later, I wouldn’t know where to begin looking, so you’ll have to bear with my memory. It’s subpar at best.

The article was written by a woman who became a therapist later in life, after a failed marriage to a man and a subsequent successful marriage as a lesbian. It happens, right.

It’s an article I think of often, because it’s wisdom is indispensable to growth and understanding in long-term relationships, not just with a husband but family and friends as well.

She was treating a couple and assigned them a special task. They were to take turns not speaking for one day. In other words, the husband could speak for 24 hours but his wife was not allowed to talk or respond to him at all and vice versa.

For the husband’s go around, his wife felt extremely insecure without the presence of his commentary, causing her to create her own version of what she thought he’d say to her in each moment. All day she narrated her behavior with things like “I just know what you’re thinking…” and then would assert what she assumed to be his judgment of her. When the sun went down, and the husband was freed from his vow of silence, he was able to share that all of her assumptions were completely inaccurate. He’d thought none of the things she’d put in his mouth, and the negativity she’d ascribed to him was also flawed.

The moral of the story is that over time we all evolve, inevitably learning and metamorphosing. But, often in marriage or within families, we remember who a person was when they were younger or when we first met. We don’t mentally allow for the growth that has eventuated, thus parents talking to adult children like they haven’t aged a day since moving out, forgetting their worldly experiences beyond the walls of their childhood homes, or wives saying to their husbands “you'll always” and “you'll never.”

Within each of us, an often invisible transformation is constantly unfolding. When I say to my husband “you’re not confident enough to…” I call forth a man who no longer exists, and in doing so inadvertently shame the man who is, effectively nullifying years of personal work towards progression.

When my husband avoids subjects that may incite conflict, because he thinks I’ll impulsively lose it, he doesn’t honor the massive efforts I’ve put into controlling my visceral reactions.

And, I so desperately want to be better for him.

We are dynamic creatures, and internal renovation is a constant. It’s happening within each of us right now. Something is shifting, and it may not yet be apparent to anyone but us.

For a long time, only I was privy to my desire to gain control over my hot-headed temper and biting tongue. That appetite for growth was the first step towards change. But, my husband couldn’t see my mental shift. His awareness was limited to what his eyes perceived.

Slowly, I’ve been able to confront that agenda and manipulate my behavior to match my desires. But, the part of me that was ashamed of my temper, the part that my husband knew well, had difficulty letting go. Knowing what he assumed about me, what reaction he expected, made it all the more challenging. I can’t fault him for this. We interpret our lives through what we’ve learned to be true via past interactions.

We can’t start over with different partners every time we want to make ourselves anew. And, we also can’t forget the past. But, we can bite our tongues and assume a position of optimism. When we verbally remind one another of all the ways we fall short, we invoke more of the same. Believing in our partner's ability and desire to always be more, to constantly be better, gives them the space to begin that most difficult separation from those undesirable behaviors. Labeling one another only creates an injustice, a war not worth waging, because the improved version of you won’t ever be seen if you’re invariably living in the shadow of she who was.

So, I try to remind myself that my husband, my family, my friends are full of love, for themselves and others. And that love propels an internal battle, an aspiration to step out of the shadows of ineffective behaviors. We walk that path together, and if we can quietly assume the best of one another, gently setting aside previous expectations, knowing our earthly challenges coupled with the fervor of our souls' desires to advance, we give one another wings, empowering an instinctive and beautiful expansion.

-Angi