When I became a mom, I instantly got a pain syndrome, otherwise known as Mind Body Syndrome/TMS. These syndromes often show up when a person is experiencing a life change and not allowing her/himself to feel emotions, address the stress, and acknowledge the huge internal pressures that come with change. (Luckily, having had TMS before, I knew what was happening and could decode the messages in the pain.)

Motherhood is a pretty big change.

I sallied forth into motherhood with a host of hidden self-pressures, blithely unaware I was caught up in what I call Magazine Syndrome.

Magazine Syndrome happens when you buy into the commercial presentation of a life event instead of realizing there are two realities: The Magazine Version and What Really Happens.

The Magazine Version of motherhood is pretty awesome. Cute babies, Pinterest-perfect craft projects, home-baked organic meals, balanced activities and stimulating learning experiences, neatly organized discipline plans (3 Steps to Ending Tantrums, etc.), and sunny backyard playtime surrounded by flowers and butterflies.

We live in a culture with lots of focus on external appearance and viewable results. How do I know I’m a good mother? I can prove it with tangible evidence – how my child behaves, what amazing craft we made, and how many fabulous activities my child is mastering/experiencing right now.

The Magazine Version of motherhood collides in a spectacular explosion with What Really Happens.

The result?

Self-doubt.

I’ve come to see that nearly every motherhood stress I experience comes from nothing more than my own self-doubt. I can trace pretty much every frustration, fear, concern, and freak-out right back to self-doubt. Did I do it right? Why is this happening with my child…I must be doing something wrong! Shit, I’ve screwed up again. How can I do a better job? (Self-pressure!)

Let’s just face it. I’m not a Magazine Version mom. I am fully and completely in awe of moms who:

1. Make crafts or bake things that look beautiful or even decent.
2. Somehow have all the snacks and supplies necessary no matter where they are/what they are doing (and even have snacks/supplies for other moms who, er…forgot them).
3. Invite groups of children to their home and have fun activities at the ready.
4. Actually look at Pinterest.
5. I could go on.

I’m the mom who takes my kid to her first swimming lesson and forgets a towel. A towel! How obvious and basic is that? (Visualize small, adorable child shivering by the edge of the pool, looking up at her mother with big, tear-filled eyes while her mother frantically searches for anything available in the diaper bag. Sigh.)

So, when my neighbor (a fellow mom) mentioned that she’s afraid to tell me what’s really going on in her life because I seem to have it all figured out, I snorted with laughter. No.

For me, motherhood is challenging in numerous ways, because I’m not great at the material/external stuff. You could even say I’m fairly terrible at it. Also, I waited until I was thirty-six to have my child. After three years of motherhood, I am still grieving my old life – the independence, the freedom, and the ability to pop out my front door without thinking about anyone else, much less who needs a towel or snack.

Instead of just allowing myself to be terrible at material and practical things and process this grief, I’ve been torturing myself with self-doubt and self-criticism.

Why should I feel so sad? Other people have six children! Other moms seem completely fine with this no-freedom thing. Why can’t I make one single cute crafty thing? Why haven’t I thought up some snazzy educational activity for my child today? There are people who are starving and penniless and I’m worrying about freedom! You get the drift.

I have also felt self-doubt around pretty much every parenting decision I make as I navigate the minefield of advice, parenting books, Facebook, The Internet, and What Everyone Else Is Doing.

I imagine that other moms have their own unique struggles, concerns and self-doubts, but addressing this is not the focus of our collective motherhood experience. I don’t hear a lot of moms talking to each other about their inner landscape, and I can see why. It’s scary to admit it out loud. This is the stuff we don’t talk about – at least not much – with each other.

The Magazine Version of motherhood displays a picture-perfect example of what it looks like to be a good mom.

What Really Happens is a messy, bodily-fluid covered, un-sanitized, heart-stopping experience.

Motherhood tests every idea you’ve ever had about yourself, shows you exactly where you are still a toddler yourself, and brings you face-to-face with your rawest emotions.

Often, when I express a frustration or struggle, other people will respond with, “Yes, but just enjoy every moment because it passes so quickly.” Or, “aren’t you just grateful to have such a perfect, beautiful child?”

Do we really need to sanitize the raw emotions of motherhood so quickly? I promise, if you allow and feel the dark side of motherhood, the beauty and joy won’t go away. Nothing bad will happen. Nobody will be harmed. In fact, fewer people will be harmed, and there will be MORE joy and beauty.

I’m all about admitting the dark stuff. I learned, from the Mind Body Syndromes I’ve had, that when I pretend I’m ok or focus only on the positives, I suffer. My body breaks down. My connection to myself erodes.

When I skim over the dark side and only look at the light, I forget how to care for myself or address my deepest needs.

I’ve had to remind myself of this lately, and allow myself to grieve the old life. I’ve had to look closely at what being a good mom means, to me, in my heart.

What I’ve discovered is two-fold:

1) The only way to know if I’m “doing it right” as a mom is to stop trying to do it right. Instead, I have to parent from a tortuously honest place in my heart, and ask only one question: Am I aligned with my heart in this moment?

Sometimes – quite often – I’m not. I’m letting external focus or schedules or “should” thoughts get in my way. My sole practice has become turning back to my heart anytime I’ve left it behind, and being kind to myself every time I forget.

2) Motherhood is all about the “and.” There’s light and dark. Joy and fury. Connection and disconnection. It’s ok to allow everything to co-exist, because this is the reality. Admitting I’m furious allows me to not react/act in ways I’ll regret later.

I went on a business trip a few months ago, and it was my first time to experience a couple of days of the old freedom. I marveled at the simplicity of waking up in the morning with only myself to shower, dress, and feed. I remembered the old days. I felt the peace of being alone, and enjoyed the quiet.

AND.

I realized that the old life was like a movie shot in black-and-white. Really cool, fun, and awesome for it’s time, but if you’ve seen a movie in color, black and white seems pretty flat.

My life, now, is full of color. There’s a vibrancy – a brilliance – that I never even knew existed pre-motherhood.

This little soul who lives in my home is like the hot, core of the sun beaming everywhere into my existence. She radiates life. She explodes at life. She IS love and joy. She doesn’t hold a single thing back, not yet. I get to be with this fiery, fierce, independent, spirited, alive, light. As her parent, I just want to do my best to let her keep on shining.

When I allow myself to grieve, to honor my needs, and to be imperfect, I can find my heart’s guidance. I can be awake to the incredible discomfort and the boundless joy of motherhood, and acknowledge the mix. I can let life be about the AND instead of the OR.

I can let go of the Magazine Version and embrace What Really Happens.

What have you noticed about embracing What Really Happens in your life, be it motherhood or body-image or anything else? What are your thoughts on the stuff we don’t talk about with each other? Tell me below or on Facebook! 

I’ve been having a little argument with myself about meditation ever since becoming a mom.  Before I was a mom, I think I just sat down and meditated. I can’t really remember. Now, though, sitting down to meditate for any extended period of time requires either a) a babysitter, b) me to be awake, or c) hmmm… maybe there isn’t a C. I keep trying to meditate in the evenings, but B keeps getting in my way.

For a few weeks, I was successfully devoting an hour 2-3 times a week to meditation. Maybe that will happen again someday, but for now, it’s just not. Lots of inexplicable things happen in motherhood, I’ve discovered.

As a working mom, and a working-at-home mom, and a person with a tendency toward mind-body syndromes, I really feel that meditation is essential to my well-being and my sanity. Also, it’s essential to my family’s well-being and sanity. You know that old saying, “when mama ain’t happy….”  As much as I hate to admit it, it’s kind of true. If my energy is off, everything is off. Now, I’m not striving to be perfectly centered all the time. (Well, ok, my inner perfectionist is striving to be perfectly centered all the time, but I am aware of her. Mostly.) Most days, I just want at least fifteen *&%*& minutes to turn inward and meditate, because it is a nourishing drink from the well of life.

I am not a total newbie to this feeling of struggle. I recognize it as a sign that I’m pushing against something larger, something wiser, and something that knows what’s best for me. Usually, this means that whatever I think I need is not what I need, and I get some sort of giant smack to help me course-correct. Ironically, this is one reason I meditate. I am not as much of a fan of these giant smacks, and I find that if I stay tuned in to my inner wisdom, they are not as frequent or large. (And yes, I keep asking for no smacks at all, but apparently I have ordered up Life Coaching from the Universe for Stubborn People.)

Well, as you may have guessed, I received a Giant Smack recently. I woke up one morning (well, ok, yesterday) and found that I could not focus on work due to the need to bawl and curl up in a ball on the floor. It seemed quite impossible to actually deliver on everything in my work life. It seemed as though I was infinitely behind and would never, ever, ever, catch up. It seemed as though I simply had too much on my plate.

This, I discovered, was not a coded message. The problem was, I had too much on my plate.

Now, that is not unusual. I have done that my whole life, and I kind of enjoy the challenge. It makes things interesting and fun. However, in Mom Life, it is no longer fun. Or interesting. It’s pretty much torture. And, you might notice that trying to add an hour meditation into my already full day is simply another layer of pressure.

Side Note: In Mom Life, EVERYTHING is different. I may not have fully accepted that just yet. I appear to still be adjusting to the fact that I am a mom, and that being a mom is completely different every day, and that working and being a mom is totally different from just working, and that being a working mom is totally different every day. It’s kind of like a Jack-in-the-Box that pops up and smacks you with something totally random, day or night. New tooth! WHAM. No nap! WHAM. Sudden Screaming Fit! WHAM! Poop in the bath! WHAM! Enormous Head Bonk! WHAM! Revolted by all foods and throw them on the floor! WHAM! Sudden Barf! WHAM!

I can see why meditating for long stretches is just not for me right now. However, the Universe, having delivered the smack, sent me a clue. In a random moment on Amazon, up popped a small book by Thich Nhat Han. I don’t even remember the title (I already own several of his books, and love his work). It was the blurb that caught my attention. It said something about meditating while doing daily tasks. Ding ding ding! Now that, possibly, could be do-able.

In the past, I have read about mindfulness, tried to be more mindful, and tried to be present in my daily life. Honestly, now I see that I did not even know what mindfulness IS. Momfulness is teaching me mindfulness. Because, in this little book, The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation, Thich Nhat Han somehow got through to me and made me see that Aela, my daughter, IS my meditation. All day. Every day. Everything is my meditation. And that the Master does not meditate for an hour and then go “do life.” Even though I sorta kinda knew this before, now I KNOW THIS. The Master is noticing her breath, noticing and allowing her emotions, noticing and watching her thought patterns and reactions, and listing to inner guidance – even while mothering. Even while working. Even while cooking dinner.

I was trying to take a break from life to turn inward and recharge. That simply doesn’t work anymore. Not right now, in this new life. I can do that sometimes, but I must find another way, as well.

I am discovering how I can recharge right now. And again, right now. It’s really challenging to notice my breath, notice my emotions, allow them, and see my mind patterns while doing another activity, like mothering (in all its various forms). It forces me to develop my inner awareness and witness in a much stronger way than I was doing in the past. I’m really new at this, since I just learned it, but I’m really really excited about it. In one small shift of perception, I found a hidden doorway in the wall and entered a secret passageway – one that takes me where I wanted to go, all along. I feel like I just fit the last piece into a jigsaw puzzle, or solved a riddle, or found the last clue that solves the case.

I have that inner guidance, and it’s not waiting for me to sit down and meditate. It’s always here.

I’ve always TRIED to hear it throughout the day, but found it not-so-easy. Motherhood is teaching me to learn this art. The only thing I need to do to hear inner wisdom, and to feel that delicious feeling of being in-sync with the Universe, is to keep up with the emotional housekeeping. When I repress emotion, I get stuck in my mind. It loops. It worries. It does its thing. I can’t see it, because I am caught in it. When I feel my emotions, allow them, and return to my body, I become the witness of the mind again. I am freed of the tension it takes to hold in emotion. I am freed of the patterns that my mind repeats when I am not present. Everything is more relaxed and energized. Everything is more fluid. And inner wisdom simply flows through, informing, directing, and guiding me.

I certainly don’t do it perfectly. Because perfectly is just another mind-story. A pattern. A wisp of a thought that exists only in my mind. Reality is just right now – messy, real, grounded, and deeply, deeply rich. I’m a lifelong emotion avoider, but I do see that when I avoid, I miss this rich thing we call the present. Right now is the moment to feel. Right now is the moment to be here with myself. When I forget, there’s no problem. Because now it’s right now, and I remember again. And that’s my practice.

My body, mind, and emotions had a tumultuous two years. I remember one day, when I was at the bottom of the pit, feeling despondent, I used the Core Anamsong Practice to tune in to my soul. My soul said:

Everything has to burn down to the ground right now, because you are being rebuilt. Your emotional well-being is being reborn. Your mind is being re-tooled. Your body is being upgraded to hold a stronger energy and vibration. You will see that in the end of this, you will be happier, healthier, and better in every way. Your marriage will be better. Your life will be better. Your work will be better. Your ass will be better. Trust. Keep listening. Follow your heart.

Well, ok, my soul didn’t really say the word “ass.” It said, “bottom.” As I was receiving this message, I saw images of my future life. I saw my improved relationship with my hubby. I saw myself strong, confident, and trusting myself as a mother. I saw my body working better than ever before. I saw my coaching practice expanding and evolving into something even bigger and more aligned with my heart.

It was such a strong image that I kind of even believed it. Even though my mind was so upset, so resistant, and so angry that it still railed against the experience, my wiser self settled into the experience and began to trust that all was, truly, ok. My soul knew it was all good.

In the worst moments, that message from my soul was the glimmer of light that kept me going. I had my tantrums, my enormous doubts, and my moments of sheer terror, but I also had that message to hold in my heart.

A few days ago, I realized that the soul message has come true. When I wasn’t looking, I arrived at the other side of the bridge, and have indeed crossed over into my new life. I feel as though the transition phase from pre-mother to mother is now complete. (I’m not saying I have the mothering thing down. I just have a deep sense of who I am as a mother now, and I trust myself in that.)

My life is nothing like it was before, and it is much, much, better. I had a pretty darn good life before I had Aela, my daughter, so you can imagine that now things are actually really, really, really good. I have a fabulous husband who is being the most amazing stay-at-home dad. I am better at communicating than ever before, and continue to learn more every day. I have an amazing daughter who teaches me about truth, strength, trust, emotions, joy, and zest for life, every single day. I get to do the work I love, with much more awareness, compassion, and humility than ever before. I have a better relationship with my mind and emotions and am better at riding the waves of the ups and downs of life. I feel creative energy flowing in much larger surges than I’ve ever experienced. And, interestingly enough, my body is actually stronger, healthier, and more full of life than ever before. Old issues that used to bug me now and then seem to have healed during the “Great Ass Debacle and Ensuing Healing.” The emotional work I did during the past year seems to have radically improved my pelvic region and cleared fears that I didn’t even know my body was still holding.

I’m still making some tweaks on the New Me and adjusting to all that happened during the transition to motherhood. Yet, I can feel that the re-build is over and I’m just learning how to live in my new home. I really do feel as though I was burned to the ground and re-built. I can also see that it needed to happen for me to fulfill my intentions around motherhood and what I wanted to give, model, and be for my daughter. I’ve long been on the spiritual awakening journey, but this experience has forced me to focus in a new way and open to more awareness, more spirit, more lessons, and more joy.

I write this post today to both honor and celebrate the journey I’ve been on and to hopefully encourage anyone who is feeling overwhelmed by transition and the sweeping changes it brings. Transition, being burned to the ground, and rebirth are all important parts of the growth process that happens as we awaken more and more to who we really are, to our inner truth, to our ability to trust ourselves, and to our awareness of our own limiting patterns. My soul was right. It really is all good, even when it seems all bad.

This year, I celebrate my birthday with deep gratitude for being alive, healthy again, and temporarily not in a transition. Because even though it is all good, it’s nice to rest a bit in the calm waters before the waves pick up again and move me forward into the next phase of the journey. I have a deep sense that it’s all about learning to float, whether the waters are calm or stormy. And trust. And love. And believe. And just be who I am, just like Aela is who she is. I am immensely grateful for her, my teacher, my daughter, and my soul-friend. She will always be the best birthday present I could have imagined.

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Behind the Scenes: Mind-Body Coach Training 2014

I just wanted to announce that there is a great deal of behind-the-scenes work happening for the 2014 Anamsong Mind-Body Coach Training!
 
If you’re a coach and you are interested in taking the training, get on the First to Know Email List for further updates on the 2014 Mind-Body Coach Training! 
 
Dates aren’t set yet, but we’re looking at late spring, early summer for the first class. We’ll be taking applications in the New Year. Meanwhile, here are some of the exciting updates!

• A simpler pre-requisite process
• MORE coaching practicum classes
• Even more in-depth and thorough mindbody tools and materials
• More support for you throughout the process (the Endorsed Coaches are going to be much more involved as supportive guides)
• A brand new learning site
• An improved post-training community platform and support

And, we’re keeping the favorite aspects of the training, which include:

• Abigail teaching the core materials and giving feedback
• A warm, compassionate learning environment
• An in-depth self awareness process with lots of support
• Clarity for yourself to help you hear your intuitive guidance from within
• Effective and efficient tools to help you and your clients improve the mind-body connection in all ways
• Post-training lifetime updates of all new materials (basically, every time I run the training, all former participants get the new classes)

We’re not ready to unveil the new Mind Body Coach University site just yet, but as soon as it’s finished, we’ll let you take the first peek at everything about the new training! (And don’t worry – if you already took the pre-requisite class last year, you won’t need to do anything this time. You can just sign up for the training.)
 
Don’t forget to sign up for the First to Know Email List to get early registration info before anyone else!
 
Happy Holidays!
 
Abigail

I wanted to celebrate the transition into motherhood with something less traditional and more magical. I wanted to focus on my motherhood intentions and creating a supportive energy for the birth process. Thankfully, my friends are all on the same wavelength. The amazing Jessica Steward created a virtual Blessingway Ceremony that included all of those elements.

The Blessingway is an old Navajo (Native American) ceremony, which celebrates a woman’s rite of passage into motherhood, and it was a perfect way for me to celebrate and prepare for giving birth and becoming a mother. It had just the right mix of connection, magical intentions, candles, prayer, and poetry. It illuminated the motherhood threshold and helped me walk forward with a sense of support and companionship. All the members of my Blessingway Ceremony wore a piece of red yarn around their wrists to symbolize safety, support, and connection. 

When I went into labor, I sent a quick announcement text to the Blessingway members and lit my Saint Bridgette candle. I felt the energy of everyone’s support as I embarked on the birthing process journey. Even though we were spread all over the United States, I could sense our solidarity in that moment, and it gave me strength as I rode the waves of contractions and gave birth to Aela. As soon as she was welcomed into the world, everyone cut the red yarn in celebration. I can’t imagine going through the birth process without the loving connection of all those kind souls.

In the coaching world, we often focus on self-coaching and how we can work through difficult transitions with great coaching tools. Sometimes, self-coaching means reaching out to a community of individuals who can support you in times of great change. The power of ritual and ceremony during major life transitions is incredibly helpful. Since many ancient traditional ceremonies and rituals like the Blessingway have ceased to be a part of our cultural norm, Jessica Steward and I thought it would be fun and helpful to create a class for anyone interested in re-igniting these traditions to support major transitions.

The Blessingway is only one example of a ceremony, and giving birth is only one example of a major life transition. We’ve put together a class that incorporates various other rituals, ceremonies, and supportive practices for a large variety of life transitions. So if you or a loved one are facing a major or even small life transition, we’d love to have you join us for the Mother, Maiden, Crone: Tools to Celebrate and Support Major Transitions in Women’s Lives Tele-course  that kicks off on Oct 17.

Here’s a simple ritual to prepare for class!

1. Buy a candle. (Every good ritual requires a candle! White is a purifying color & great for every ritual or celebration.) (Abigail and Jessica adore Zena Moon.

2. Buy a special journal (Abigail and Jessica love Paperblanks,
   
   but you can use any journal that feels special to you.

3. Find a space in your home where you can create a mini-sanctuaryl put a sacred symbol that resonates or calls to you (e.g. a beautiful rock or gemstone, a small statue of an angel, saint or kuan yin)

4. Say a small prayer or blessing to come prepare the space. (e.g. “May God/Goddess bring love, health, happiness, and abundance into this space. With gratitude, I thank you.”)

5. Sit quietly for five minutes, paying attention to your breath. Imagine your breath coming in through your nose and leaving out through the bottoms of your feet.

Now you are ready for class!

To learn more and register, click here.

For example – motherhood.

I recently chose, knowing fully what I was in for, to step into Square One. I’ve been through many a Square One since becoming a coach, and I’m getting more comfortable with it. Square One, Martha explains, is like being a caterpillar in a cocoon, preparing to become a butterfly. It’s not the pretty part of the process. Apparently, caterpillars dissolve into a goopy-type substance in the cocoon before they morph into a butterfly and fly away.

A goopy-type substance is a good description for what I have felt like most of my pregnancy. I’m not saying it’s not a magical experience, because it is. However, it’s also a giant dissolving of who I was and the beginning of the new me – the mom me.

Being goopy is not always a pretty sight. It involves hormonal swings, sudden weeping, mother-instinct anger/protectiveness that is truly shocking (I suppose that part is just preparing me for what I’ll feel when she’s on the outside!), ridiculous amounts of nesting, and sudden, decisive decisions about my life. It’s a bit, say, up and down.

 It also involves looking in the mirror and saying, “Who am I?” Physically I’m completely different. But I also feel completely different on the inside. My identity is shifting and changing to incorporate this new, giant part of who I am – a mother.

Square One is about dissolving your identity and becoming a new version of yourself. We all go through square one over and over again, because we are always evolving. However, it’s not exactly a comfy experience. It often feels like, as Martha says, you’re in “no man’s land.” The key to surviving is to just surrender and let it happen.

I am in the midst of morphing into motherhood, and I surrender. It’s a beautiful thing, and it’s a messy thing. They key is to be okay with the messiness. Everything is changing, and I must let go of the old to open up to the new. Is that comfy? No. Is it easy? No. Is it worth it? Yes.

So, if you, too are in your own Square One, let us raise a toast to feeling like a goopy substance, not knowing who we are right now, and to transformation. We are becoming butterflies, fellow Square One travelers. We are preparing to fly.

Why practice at all?

Because it’s so much fun and so amazing to hear your intuitive inner wisdom. And it’s even more fun to hear it loud and clear. The more you practice (playfully!), the louder your intuitive voice speaks to you. It makes daily decisions much simpler and the path to your right life much more efficient. Whether you want to re-align with your body and feel healthy and comfortable in your own skin or you long to have a successful and fulfilling coaching practice, your intuitive voice is the ultimate guide. Your soul steers you perfectly. All you have to do is tune in!

On my birthday in December, 2010, I did a meditation and tuned in to my soul. It told me it was time to start down the path to motherhood. Prior to that, I wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted to be a mom. After that, I knew I was meant to be one. A little soul wanted to come hang out with my husband and me. Even though it sounded terrifying and exciting and life-changing and mind-blowing all at once, I knew it was the right next step.

Now I’m going to write something I had no idea I’d write today. I’m going to tell you the whole story that led up to this moment, today, where I’m having fun announcing if baby is a boy or girl. (I’ll tell you, I promise!)

When I miscarried last year, it was too early to know whether or not we were having a boy or a girl. However, from going through the experience, I felt that it was twins, and my doctor thought that was probably the case. I knew it was a boy and a girl. After the miscarriage, whenever I meditated and tuned in to my soul, I felt like I was also in touch with the little girl’s soul. She began to send me loving messages every time I connected to my own soul.

She told me that she wanted to be with me, to be my child, but that the first attempt wasn’t quite right – there were reasons we had to wait and start over again. Some were physical, some were spiritual, and some were emotional – I had things I needed to work through. She told me I would grow and learn and be ready soon. She said she and her brother were just fine, even though they didn’t finish their journey to be here in little baby bodies. I could feel the truth of this. Even as I grieved, even as I felt the loss of what was to be, I could feel that they were truly okay.

The baby girl soul told me she was coming back. She’d even already told us what her name was, but asked us to keep it to ourselves until she was born.

After this, I felt really excited to get pregnant again. Yet, my soul kept telling me to wait. I had healing to do, on every single level possible. So, though I was impatient and sometimes argumentative, I listened to that intuitive voice and waited.

I’m not really good at waiting. It was hard. Then, one night I had a dream. In the dream, I was far along in a pregnancy, and really happy. The dream was so vivid that it stuck with me for days. You see, in the past, I’d had a recurring dream that I was pregnant. In that recurring dream, I’d be very excited, but then I’d go stand in front of the mirror only to discover that I didn’t look pregnant anymore, and there was no baby. Three days before my miscarriage, I was standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, and I noticed something looked different, as though I wasn’t pregnant anymore. It was the moment from the dream, happening in real life. (I’ve always had eerily accurate dreams like this, about myself and other people.)

To finally dream about being happily pregnant, for the first time in my life, felt like a deeply joyous message. I took it as a good sign. I thanked my soul.

Then, finally, the waiting was over. It was time to embark on the journey again. Exactly one year after my birthday meditation, I got the news – I was pregnant. It was the perfect birthday present.

Over the next two months, I had six dreams. In the first five, I was holding a little baby girl. I could see every feature of her face. In the dreams, I kissed her face and told her how adorable she was. I nursed her and snuggled with her. It was as though she was already here, in my arms. In the sixth dream, she was a little girl, laughing and playing. She seemed so absolutely real that I could hardly imagine anyone else but her inside my womb.

So I have to say, when the doctor looked at the ultrasound screen, smiled and said, “It’s a girl!” I wasn’t exactly surprised. Filled with joy? Yes. Deliriously happy? Yes. Filled with love? Yes.

I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, little baby girl!

There was just one, tiny problem.

I wasn’t listening to my soul. Oops. I am really, really good at suppressing my true feelings and not listening to my inner-most guidance. This is why I focus on the practice of trusting and following my own inner wisdom so much. I can so easily forget this and barrel forward, ignoring important signals from inside myself.

I’ve been down this road before, of course. Many years ago, my body had to wake me up to this pattern of ignoring myself by literally immobilizing me with physical pain. I grudgingly began to listen to its messages and actually tune in to myself. Searing pain in one’s privates is most definitely motivational. Once I realized what my body was trying to get me to do, I started down the arduous and yet incredibly rewarding path of learning to like and love both myself and my body.

Yet, like any relationship, my relationship with my body and self is always evolving. Just when I think I’m pretty darn tuned in, I find a whole new layer of awareness I had no idea was there. To be honest, I think this actually delights me. How endlessly fascinating it is to never be done discovering new truths, depths, and information about one’s self! It’s not always comfortable. It’s not always a walk in the park. However, the rewards of going deeper, being willing to surrender to new levels of personal truth, and being ridiculously honest with yourself are absolutely worth it.

As usual, my body helped me out last year. It took on the miraculous and amazing project of nurturing a child inside it. As soon as I became pregnant, I became a mother. Wild hormones raced through my body, and I felt the urge to act like a grizzly bear with her cub, even though said cub was not even born yet. One day I took my niece to a movie and nearly murdered a woman who spoke rudely to her.  Quite suddenly, a new me was born. Mother Bear was awakened.

When I miscarried, the mother inside me did not go away. She remained. And something really spectacular took place. She nurtured me. She taught me even more about being compassionate with myself, setting boundaries, saying no, and treating myself with the same kind of honest, powerful mother-bear energy I would use for my child.

I got really honest with myself. I changed everything that wasn’t feeling right. I made new business decisions and decided to focus on my individual business and do less collaboration. I hired help in my business. I got inspired to create a whole new body of mind-body tools to use with my clients, my coach trainees, and myself. (I’d road tested them during my grieving process, and they really helped.)

Why am I telling you all of this? Because it just goes to show – this process of tuning in to your body, emotions, and soul is never done. It’s okay to be on this journey for a lifetime and never be perfect at all of this. Because you just can’t underestimate the power of taking a few moments to check in with your body, emotions, and soul. There is always something new to learn. There is always a new layer of deep peace awaiting you, right across the swamp of discomfort.

So, here I am again, one year later, sitting at my desk and preparing the new Mind-Body Coach Training.  I was seriously kidding myself when I thought I wouldn’t do another one. I love training coaches. I love watching them go out and use mind-body tools with their clients. I love watching them transform their own lives as they go through the training. It’s probably my favorite thing to do, above all else.

I’m also writing a new audio/visual product that will allow you to deepen your own mind-body process. I’m getting a whole new website built, and it’s completely different from what I thought it would be. I’ve also been hired to run Martha Beck’s Life Coach Training.

Nothing – not ONE little thing – looks like I thought it would when I envisioned this year. Everything – every SINGLE little thing – feels fabulous and perfect now. What if I hadn’t trusted myself? What if I hadn’t listened when my body asked me to?

I might not be in this moment, doing all these things I love. I might not know myself this much more. I might not have let my soul really sing, like it is now.

But I did it. I did listen. I paid attention to discomfort. I tuned in, even though there was pain, grief, sadness, anger, and fear. And now I AM here, in this moment. This is why it’s all worth it. This is what my soul was guiding me toward. Every time I go through this process in a big way, it turns out like this. Every time I tune in to myself in little ways, throughout the day, it turns out like this. It’s better than good. It’s more delicious than any delicacy. It’s challenging, engaging, and interesting, to be willing to live wide-awake like this. What can you learn from yourself, today, for you?

It’s been a couple weeks of endings. I find sadness welling up in my throat, because though I know we’ll interact and meet again in different ways, these platforms of connection are now coming to an end. Though I’d love to sit around and be a part of amazing growth and transformation with groups of brilliant coaches all the time, I also recognize that it wouldn’t really be great for them. They’d never get to go out and embark on their own journey, or lead their own groups. So with each experience, an end must come to create a new beginning.

It’s been a year of beginnings and endings already, for me. In January, it was the beginning of pregnancy and motherhood. In March it was the end of the pregnancy, much sooner than I had expected. Then it was the beginning of opening up to the messages in that experience and the changes I needed to make within myself before moving forward again. Shortly after that, there were a few endings within my coaching business, followed abruptly by new beginnings I could not have foreseen. (Such as being hired to be the Life Coach Training Coordinator for Martha Beck Inc.)

I feel a bit as though I have beginning/ending whiplash. Change has come so fast this year, in so many ways. I’ve had to really perfect the art of surrendering, which is no easy feat, I must say. So, in this moment, I am sad that this year’s group of mind-body coach trainees is leaving the nest. But I surrender to the experience and am letting go.

I first learned the art of surrendering when I was in physical agony. I was tortured by interstitial cystitis for years, and then wound up with vulvodynia as well. I hated my body, wanted all the pain to just leave, and fought like mad against the experience. Until I simply couldn’t fight anymore. I often say that the universe had to wonk me over the head before I would surrender and allow myself to have the experience I was already having – in that case, pain. That’s the funny thing about surrendering; it’s about laying down the weapons in the battle against what is.

I remember literally lying down on the couch and saying, “Okay, I give up.” But I wasn’t giving up on everything. I was just giving up the fight. I knew I had to stop trying so hard and just let the experience teach me what it was teaching me.

If this sounds hard, it’s because it kind of is. Yet, it’s also easy, in a strange way. It’s so much easier to surrender than to fight. It’s easier to say, “Okay, I am willing to have this experience that I am having right now” than to clench every muscle in combative argument against it.

If you’re dealing with anything stressful or hard in your life right now, don’t forget that surrendering is an option. You can set down your boxing gloves and say, “Okay, I allow this to happen right now.” It doesn’t mean you’ll suffer forever. In fact, your suffering will end much sooner. As soon as I stopped fighting the pelvic pain syndromes, the way out arrived in the form of mind-body healing.

On the day that I miscarried, I knew something was wrong. All day, I fought that knowledge. I avoided the knowing. I tried so hard to not have the experience that I knew was coming. Finally, as the evening wore on, I remembered the surrender option. I told my husband we had to talk about the possibility that I was going to miscarry. So we did. And we knew, in that moment, that we could handle it, no matter how painful it would be. As soon as we aired that, I was able to say, in my heart, “I surrender. I allow myself to have this experience.” Ten minutes later, the miscarriage happened. I let go. I let the universe take over, and I trusted.

Sure enough, we did survive. We could handle the grief, the pain, and the loss. That’s the thing; that which we fight, even though it is painful, is always something we can handle. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it’s painful. But it’s ever so much more painful to fight than to surrender.

Though I often write my blog posts with a particular client question in mind, today’s post is written for me. I am the client today. Because now that my body, mind, and spirit are healed from this experience, I arrive at a new doorway. A new beginning. A place to start anew. But to embark on this motherhood journey again, there’s something I have to do. I have to surrender. I have to say, “Okay, I am willing to have this experience, whatever it may be, and I trust that what is right will happen.” Coming on the heels of the miscarriage, a new pregnancy sounds a little scary. Maybe difficult. Maybe not such a good idea. Yet, when I really look inside, it’s not the experiences that could happen that scare me. It’s the pain of not trusting, not surrendering, and not letting go that is terrifying.

It’s time to surrender to my own inner wisdom, to the wisdom of mother nature and the universe, and to life itself. I can’t know anything with my human mind about what will come, but I can trust my soul to guide me somewhere good. Yes, there were endings this year, but they made way for beginnings. There is innate wisdom in this process that I could never have seen in advance, but for which I am now grateful. So, if you, like me, are standing on the edge, peeking through a new doorway, or are just plain tired of fighting, here’s your invitation to surrender. I surrender to the experience of pregnancy again, whatever it brings. Would you like to join me in this surrendering experience? What are you surrendering to? I would welcome the company.