I got a bit of a jolt last week on Mt. St. Helena.
A simple skid. In the pouring rain. 🙃 I didn’t die.
Coming home from Harbin Hot Springs (my first visit back since it burned down in 2015). Rainy and cold. Too cold to walk around naked to and from the tubs (for me), so I splurged on a watsu (water shiatsu, best body work ever dreamed up by a human being) and another session on a table, then headed home.
The massage therapist who lives nearby warned me to pay attention on the mountain, that conditions were bad. Pouring rain, on icy roads. And I was very, very, VERY careful.
Life happened. A jolt happened.
A 3-lane, nearly 360º skid. Didn’t drive off the mountain. Didn’t hit the mountain. Didn’t hit a car. Didn’t kill anyone. Didn’t hurt anyone! Didn’t die.
Quite a jolt though. I’m still feeling it in my body, seven days later.
And still shaking my head at the miracle.
How do you simplify when you’ve had a jolt?
So much gets stirred up — old injuries awakened, hitting new heights on the pain-o-meter, that humility that comes with knowing that your best option may include agony, fear and anxiety. It can feel like way too big a stretch to even conceive of slowing down and trusting your healing.
In moments of agony and frustration, when you wish you could just f**king change things (or make the last three minutes un-happen), how do you simplify?
Do you find your gratitude? Take a nap? Call a friend? Weep? Throw something? Hug someone?
Or…? What do you do when none of the tips, tools, and techniques you can think of actually help in the moment? When nothing you can do sets things aright (according to your best thinking at the moment)?
Hmmm. Can you simplify? (You can.)
Maybe you just take a breath, and then you breathe again.
Maybe that’s all you need, beloved human.
Because you know — deep inside, deeper than your reasoning and your very smartest words — that you’ve survived jolts before. Because you remember that resilience — that you didn’t create, or make, or strengthen (it’s just there, when needed) — that’s carried you through difficult sh*t in the past.
Let’s breathe together. In this moment.
Are you looking for a special gift?
Are you playing fast and loose with gift-buying deadlines? Relax honey, I got you.
I’ll work with your timeline. You need a gift by… when? Hit me up. Soon if you’re thinking Chanukah / Solstice / Christmas. Any time otherwise!
As I’ve been healing, in the quiet, and the dark of the approaching Solstice, I retreated to my studio. The best place I’ve ever found to simplify.
I’ve been making canvases, collages, and tiles.
Everything you see here (as of this moment) is available, and there’s still time for custom orders.
Looking for that perfect gift? For yourself? For a friend/loved one? Reach out, buy some art.
Or buy my art imprinted on all the things!
That’s it for now. Let me know what you think. And what you like! xoxox