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Change, transition, the unknown… These are not scary words to me.  Typically, I love the death and resurrection of self, the ambition of a new adventure, the synchronicities that occur and propel my life magically forward.  It’s a potion that makes me come alive.  The unknown is my jam!! When accompanied with chronic fatigue, however, I am learning the unknown is NOT my jam.  It is indeed a graceless jar of shit that tastes like poodley oodley on burnt toast.  The unknown married with fatigue means all bets… are… OFF.   

When I’m tired, I get ANGRY.  I get accusatory.  I tell God and his minion helpers (who so lovingly give me sign after sign that everything is going to be okay, and IS okay) to fuck off and fuck themselves, fuck the cats, fuck the dog, fuck the wallpaper, fuck my camera, fuck my computer, fuck that person, fuck those people, FUCK EVERYONE, fucking fuck the fucking fucks!!! Which is… ahem… concerning.  

I have to keep myself from throwing the cats out the window.  I have to cement myself to the chair when the garbage truck rumbles up right as my daughter is falling asleep. (I do this so as not to stab the driver in the throat with this pen that feels like MY ONE TRUE FRIEND).  Soooo much love for others… 

I’m not my best self when I’m tired.  I know this.  When the doctor told me I had chronic fatigue, I was like– ‘DUH!!! YOU FUCKING IDIOT! FUCK DOCTORS!!!’  

But when I put the brakes on… take a moment to recompose and breathe… OF COURSE, I don’t like feeling like my real self is disappearing or getting lost in the fatigue and mundane of motherhood day to day.  This isn’t who I want to be– for me, for my husband or for my daughter!

And love for self?  OOF.  I can’t even go there right now. 

Surprisingly, I only recently put this two and two together– that being shaken when handling transition during the worst fatigue of your life is not only a new normal but it’s pretty freakin’ understandable!!  It might take a little time to find your magic, girlfriend!  Feeling like a shit pile because I’ve been unable to ground myself, and find comfort in those roots that steady me to the center of the earth and back, I have been beating myself up for the shell that I inhabit.   It’s good to be reminded this isn’t easy.  It’s a deepening of the lesson plan to get me to a new place, which given the day can be totally annoying or exciting… or really, really annoying. 😉 

Rather than beat myself up (or beat up the people/animals/entities around me that love me), I’m focusing on the following…

I won’t always live in a dark house.

Where I live won’t always be decorated with animal heads and fishing reel wallpaper.

I won’t always live on this little sleep. 

The cats won’t always be indoor cats.

The Small Dog won’t always be so jealous or needy.

We won’t always make bupkis money.

Ruby won’t always wake up through the night.

She won’t always need me to feed her, etc. 

I don’t know what’s to come but I know that this time is temporary and I’m doing my best to allow myself a little grace.  What more can I expect on two hours of sleep a night?  

I know there’s a deeper meaning to all of this, lessons I can take from this aside from ‘parenthood= lack of sleep.’ What is the dialogue that runs through my head when I can’t sleep at four in the morning?  What do I tell myself when I look in the mirror?  What are the first thoughts that come to mind when my red eyes are bulging like a Disney villain?  Is that reality or have I also been listening to the worst version of myself while running the worst dialogue? For the love of God, is ANY of it loving??? 

Nothing at all against the word ‘fuck–‘ a good swear can be a grossly satisfying relief when the need to express frustration feels like sickness.  But here’s hoping a deep breathe or two can give me just enough awareness to add some softer words to my vocabulary. I haven’t used ‘shit’ in a while?  Ha! It seems almost godly in comparison to what’s been coming out of my mouth!

*Deep breath*

Here’s to GRACE… Here’s to BREATH…  and Here’s to BECOMING. xoxo

 

 

MONEY. The four letter word so bad it’s five letters. Money fears are always the f*ckers to our authenticity and manifestation, aren’t they?

This has been an educating and eye opening transition for me being a stay at home mom.  On one hand, I’m always with my daughter which is exhausting but wonderful.  I would absolutely hate being away from her, having to work full time right now.  On the other hand, not having an income– especially not having my own income, has been challenging and scary. Then, the third part of my current conundrum is having this intense desire to create. I have 1,249,823 projects I want to work on that require time, energy and money.  No big!  😉  

I’ll be frank, I zero percent want to go back to work right now.  My body still feels wrecked (which I’m working on), I’m up with our daughter all night (four month sleep regression is a THANG), I’m exhausted all the time, and I know to work on weekends will totally wipe out all reserves.  

I don’t ‘sleep when the baby sleeps,’  I ‘hustle when the baby sleeps.’  I bake, I take photos, write blogs, edit photos, watch tutorials… I am always working.  I am always learning.  I’m not creating because of all of this magical downtime I have, I am MAKING. IT. HAPPEN. in between burps and diaper changes, or at midnight after she’s asleep.

So to spend my ‘hustle time’ working for someone else at an unfulfilling job means I won’t have the time or energy to create (which in itself is a life force sucker), and that– truth be told–  scares the shit out of me. Not because I think my inner artist will shrivel up and die, turning quickly into a depress case (though been there, done that) but because if I don’t start these projects now, will I ever have the perfect circumstances to start them?  Time is a commodity. It’s like paying rent versus the investment of a mortgage.  People that are successful food bloggers are successful now because they put in years of blogging.  Most YouTubers are able to monetize because they have years of videos under their belt winning subscribers not because they have five.  I don’t want to be 65 just having started things. The sooner I start, the sooner the pay off.  Hence, the hustle. You get what I’m putting down?

I know society can be a judgmental, know-it-all biotch.  “If you can’t pay your bills, suck it up and get a job. It’s called being an adult. You do what you have to do for your children. You made the choice to have kids.”  And to an extent, there is totally truth to that!  Sometimes, a person might need to get a job that feels like dying (our grocery store is hiring) to remind yourself that you’re responsible and capable of making money.  It feels good to pay your bills and to be able to afford things.  This makes sense to me as I’ve been spending beyond my means (the whole no income thing).  Money is a karmic lesson I get a lot because I continue to spend.  So, maybe we’re relearning a little somethin’ somethin’ here…

On the flip side, sometimes you have to say no to certain money making opportunities (our grocery store is hiring) because it’s time to believe you’re worth more than a job you hate. That idea is part of an old program or your history. You’ve paid your dues and learned your lessons. Your back doesn’t have to break anymore. You CAN have a job you love. Believe in YOU. Or as Johann Wolfgang von Goethe says: “At the moment of commitment, the universe conspires to assist you.”

Sometimes ‘suck it up’ individuals are exceptional at paying bills but can kinda, sorta, really, totally suck at life. Ha! They can sometimes be lifeless or totally unhappy, martyr-and-victim parental units that are dying inside thinking there’s only one way to do life. I promised myself at the start of this child rearing shindig, that I was going to do this different. I don’t believe my life’s purpose is to solely raise my daughter. I believe my life’s purpose is to create, live an authentic life and brings something decent and lovely to the planet as best I can.  It is what makes me feel energized– whole and complete, nurtured and nurturing. And in part FOR my daughter, she’ll hopefully learn through my example she is allowed a fullfulling life as well, and that good things don’t just happen to other people.

So what do you do when your heart and intuition are telling you to create and start these projects but your bank account is saying get a part time job and do the responsible thing? It’s a confusing spiritual merry go round. Personally, for reasons of my own doing, I have both been burned and blessed by stepping out in faith. 

I have waited too long to do the responsible karmic thing and gone into debt without being grounded in reality.  I’ve also passed up lucrative jobs, only to have my aunt email me randomly about a job in the mountains that finally felt right.  I had to borrow money from my sister to move to Mazama to start a life I know I was destined to live.  Hardly responsible. Totally in line with everything I am. And let me tell you, the fine line between those two situations for me right now is the confusing reality between getting knocked on the head in Kansas and having the courage to walk the Yellow Brick Road.  Ha! One is a black and white reality. The other is a vibrant and colorful dream.  And neither is necessarily right or wrong.

This week I dropped my sis off at the bus station down the mountain in San Bernardino.  I was angry and frustrated that I’ve been feeling in limbo.  I felt utterly hopeless, confused. There were some tears.  Did I mention angry?  Anyway, I stopped at one of the turnoffs to have some words with my guides and angels.  For whatever reason, my honesty and the view felt empowering.  The ‘in between’ of manifestation can totally suck (hello, we’re human after all!) but there has always been something incredible on the other end of it when I commit to it.  The mountains reminded me of that.  

The current state of affairs:  I will not apply at the grocery store but I did apply at the local movie theater.  I will reach out to the local tavern about working weekends but specifically for karaoke night (y’all I love my karaoke). I reached out to local photographers to see if they needed weekend help during wedding season because I’ve been dying to have the opportunity to start shooting weddings.  (At the very least, to see if I’d like it).  I’ve reached out to LA headshot photographers to see if they’d be willing to take on apprentices because I would be sooo happy to learn new things.  

I’ve continued to upload images to Shutterstock for some down the road chump change.  I’ve been baking and blogging. I submitted to the Food Network for their baking championship shows. I look for interesting jobs on Craigslist.  I will reach out to local businesses to see if they need food photographs for their websites or menus (which also means I’m working on a photography website).  Our house is on the market in Mazama and I remind myself without attachment to outcome, it could sell at any time.  Weaving, what feels in my soul, like a positive and healthy tapestry… 

I have no idea how this all plays out but I know that it does.  The ‘in between’ is hard, scary and feels impossible but it’s my choice. I know I get to decide to take forty steps back into an old box of possibility or stick to what feels good in an exciting and responsible way.  I know it’ll be in perfect timing and can imagine how utterly grateful and ecstatic I’ll feel later as I can see how the stars aligned.  

And when I am on the other side of this… as a current basket case with sleepless rage tendencies?  I’ll be sure to laugh when people say things just work out for me because I’m a naturally positive person.  Ummm… yeah.  The earful the mountains got would say I’m a total Florence Henderson right here.  😉

We get a choice, friends. Here’s hoping the mountains remind you, too.  xoxo

 

 

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