We Aren't Perfect: Postpartum Depression Confessions

Crystal, the terrific blogger over at We Aren't Perfect, has devoted the month of August to Postpartum Depression awareness. 

Each day her blog will feature a Postpartum Confession by a guest blogger writing on the topic of PPD.

I am today's featured blogger. You can see my post here.

If you or someone you love is or has been or may one day be touched by postpartum depression, I encourage you to visit Crystal's site and read these moving accounts of what it's like to move through what should be a joyful, if stressful time under the dark clouds of postpartum depression and to break free to the other side.

I Hear Them All: Privilege, Poverty, and Guilt

I try to count my blessings daily. Recently I told Scott that you know you are truly blessed when you're operating at a level where you're dealing with what I call high-level problems. You know.... When you have the luxury of worrying about the fact that your son hates reading because you know you have a roof over your head and healthy food on your table every night. And trust me...I am thankful those are the problems I have to deal with. Those truly are white people problems.


And by white people, I really mean upper middle class problems.


I didn't always live my life as a fortunate son daughter, lucky enough to be able to think about these things. My childhood was spent eating pinto beans and cornbread most every night bought with the money my grandmother earned stripping tobacco. I remember going with her and doing the work myself on many an autumn weekend in freezing tobacco barns, paid something like ten cents for every hand of tobacco I tied. The little money I earned went right in with what my grandmother earned to augment my mother's meager salary and pay for our rent, groceries, clothes, medical bills, and whatever else we needed.


Although I will never forget where I came from, I choose not to dwell on it. I'd rather be thankful for the wonderful life I built for myself with my desire to leave my situation, the God-given intelligence to rise above the circumstances into which I was born, and a little luck along the way (like meeting and marrying a beautiful and brilliant man who does an amazing job of providing for his family).


Every now and then I get a big there but for the grace of God go I reminder of my roots.
Like today at Kroger.... A dark-haired young woman holding a beautiful little baby girl came up to me and my boys as I was wheeling my buggy out of the organic/natural foods section of the store, pausing to look for the $1 each Softsoap and anti-bacterial sanitizer that's usually in the center aisle.


She handed me a note written on the unlined back of an index card: "I have three babys and I lost my job. Can you help me?"


How could any mother hesitate to help? Surely that's why she chose me in a packed store. That and the fact that as I so often do with strangers, I smiled and made eye contact.


Yet, I did hesitate.
"I'm so sorry, but I don't have any cash on me," I replied to her note. I spoke the truth, but still felt guilty inside.


In broken English with what sounded like an Eastern European accent she then asked me if I could buy formula for her baby. "The kind with Lee-peel," she replied when I asked what kind.
Trying to imagine how desperate I would have to be to ask strangers at a grocery to buy formula for my little baby, I said I would and walked with her to the baby aisle. They were out of her formula, so she asked if I would buy some baby bottles and diapers.


I did, along with some wipes. While we were walking to the checkout, Brendan asked me why I was buying things for a stranger when I told him I couldn't buy the Horizon Organic Vanilla Milk because it wasn't on sale. I told him that everything in our cart with one exception (avoacados) was on sale and that I always try to buy things on sale to help save money.


As we stood in the checkout line, me unloading a buggy of grass-fed ground beef, fresh bananas and peaches, milk (not organic, but the big old gallon jug my boys drink every three days or so), three different kinds of whole grain bread, a bottle of wine,whole grain tortillas, and avocados, the woman told me she has triplets when it occurred to me to ask where her other two children were.  She said they were home with her mother.


She seemed grateful, but at the same time, she didn't carry with her the air of shame and regret that I imagine I would have felt in asking someone else to help me in that way.
I remember slinking around and wanting to hide when I was child and my grandmother used food stamps to buy our groceries. It felt humiliating.


Perhaps as a mother, you can't afford to feel ashamed when you're trying to figure out how to help your children. I don't know.


I do know that after she left I didn't feel the same sense of having committed an act of goodness that I usually do whenever I donate to charity or help someone in need. Perhaps it was guilt over having her witness my privilege while she was in need. Although, is it really privilege if it wasn't given to you? If you worked really hard to get to that point in your life and if you and your partner still work to maintain it?


Perhpas it was the vague sense I felt of being taken advantage of.... (Maybe she'd return the diapers and buy cigarettes for all I know.) Or perhaps it's just the knowledge that our society allows there to be parents and children in such need that leaves me feeling discomfited.
Whatever the root of it, I continue to feel a sense of unease and sadness regarding the situation. I feel both like I should have done more and like it shouldn't be me doing it at all, but rather her family, her church, her community, our government.





I guess in the end I know that buying some diapers and a few wet wipes, and some baby bottles really isn't going to change that woman's life and when it comes down to it that's what she really needs. A life-changing moment that turns everything around for her and her kids. A job that pays a living wage. Safe, affordable childcare. A community that cares about mothers and children and what happens to them.


In hindsight I think of all I might have done, but when you get shanghaied during a rushed trip to the market, what can you do?


I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. What would you have done in a similar situation?

Satellite: Please Visit We Aren't Perfect's PPD Confessional

Those of you who have read my blog for a while might remember my own experience with PPD. After my son Beckett was born, I had a really rough time. After months of feeling like I was the worst mother and wife in the world, feeling unloved, terrified, anxious, and sometimes as if I would literally burst free of my own skin, I ended up very ill physically. My kind and loving mother-in-law convinced me to talk to my who told me my immune system was shutting down due to sleep deprivation and the stress of having a newborn. But it wasn't until a few weeks later when I called him from my car, sobbing because I felt worthless and didn't think I could be a mother any more that he diagnosed me with post-partum depression and put me on Zoloft. That changed everything and in a few weeks I felt like myself again.

Crystal, over at the blog We Aren't Perfect, has also had her own experience of PPD and to help shine the light on this debilitating condition that affects anywhere from five to 25% of new mothers, she is hosting a PPD Confessional to allow other women to share their experiences with this disease. Between now and July 31, you can e-mail Crystal your story to help other women who might find themselves in your shoes.

Let your story shine a light of hope for others who walk through that dark night as you once did.

More than Words: Getting Your Kids to Embrace Summer Reading

Some parents are blessed with kids who love to read. Some of us are not so fortunate.

I never imagined it would be possible for me to produce a child who didn't love to read. I was reading on a fourth grade level when I was in Kindergarten, requiring my mom to meet with the principal, my teacher, and the school librarian to obtain permission for me to check out actual books from the library. My husband Scott skipped Kindergarten and first-grade entirely, jumping straight to second grade where he was reading on an advanced level and correcting his teacher's mistakes.

But then, our son was diagnosed with Developmental Dyspraxia, a condition that has affected his ability to read in much the same way a dyslexic might be impacted. Although he scored an "Exceeds Expectations" on the standardized reading test required for promotion to second grade in Georgia, he just absolutely hates to read because it has never come easy to him. It challenges him in a way he doesn't like.

And I've tried getting him engaged with books on topics he likes from space to reptiles. But every time I ask him to sit down and read, it's a huge battle with him telling me the book is too hard and me yelling at him in frustration that I know he can do it because he's smart and I've seen his reading scores.

So, I decided to go back to ground zero in our efforts. Clearly, my son's confidence is lagging behind his actual abilities. In order to convince him that he knows more than he thinks, we're now working on sight words again. Yesterday we sat and he did 35 sight words for me, only missing one. I couldn't believe the excitement in his face.

My plan is to go through all 200 or so sight words until he feels really confident and then go back to trying to get him to read me actual books. In the meantime, I am reading the first Harry Potter book to him. I also plan to start reading some Lloyd Alexander books to him soon. I've never read them, but someone I know recommended them, suggesting I start one and make him finish it on his own if he likes it. She says she did this with her son when he was eight and that by the end of that year, he was reading on a 10th grade level.

Once we're done with the sight word experiment, I plan to order some grade level I Can Read books. He already has a couple that Scott bought for him when he had to do a book report this year. I think he'll appreciate the idea that he can see they're on his current level and not feel intimidated. I may even trick him by getting him to read one level below his current grade just to get him reading.

How I envy those of you with children who entertain themselves by sitting quietly and reading! And those of you whose children are breezing through chapter books on their own in first grade. Appreciate how lucky you are and try not to judge too harshly those of us who have to make an extra effort to engage our children in what I think is the most pleasurable pastime of all.

*I wrote this blog post while participating in the TwitterMoms blogging program to be eligible to get an "I Can Read!" book. For more information on how you can participate, click here. You can also join in a discussion with other parents about motivating your child to read on TwitterMoms.com. 

It Ain't Easy Being Green: Step One Toward a Greener Kitchen

Wednesday has quickly become my favorite day of the week.
And not merely because reaching Wednesday means we're halfway to the weekend.
Nope. I love Wednesday because that's the day I get my box of fresh organic produce from the Riverview Farms CSA program. 
It's so thrilling to know I'm supporting a local farm and farm family while doing something good for the Earth. Better than that is getting a bounty of superfresh, from-the-farm, dirt still clinging to them, delicious veggies, some of which I would never buy if left to my own devices, not because they're not delicious but because of my fear of cooking vegetables I've never cooked before.
I picked up my first box last week, coming to the game a bit late. I have wanted to participate in a CSA for some time, but hesitated because of the upfront cost. After reading Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, and watching Food, Inc.,
., 


I decided that I had to just stop dabbling with feeding my family in a more conscious manner and really commit to it. 


We had already eliminated almost all high-fructose corn syrup and Nutrasweet. Giving up Diet Coke was a major sacrifice since Scott and I were both kind of addicted to the stuff. And giving up HFCS has meant thoroughly reading every single label and much to my children's dismay giving up much-loved breakfast cereals in favor of healthier choices. 


Joining a CSA just seemed like a good choice for us. And at just $25 a week for a huge box of organic, locally-grown veggies and fruit, it's also kind of a bargain. 


Just look at the photos here to see what last week's box contained: okra, green beans, zephyr squash, cucumbers, six ears of corn, over a quart of the sweetest blueberries I've ever tasted, two huge heads of garlic, a mix of new red and Yukon Gold potatoes, tomatoes, and fresh basil. 

I have no doubt that I had bought the same amount of organic produce at Whole Foods or in the organic section of my grocery, I would have paid well over $25 for the lot. Organic blueberries alone are $5 a pint and I can't say that I've ever even seen organic okra at either of those places. 


And even though my first thought with the okra was yuck!, I managed to find a way to cook them that was truly delicious and opened my mind to how good it could really be.


I can't wait to see what today's bounty holds and what new recipes I'll get to try as a result. I'm hoping there will be zucchini that I can use with the remainder of the corn to make a corn and zucchini salad. 


I'm also hoping for more of those crazy good blueberries.


But we'll see. That's part of the joy and excitement of belonging to CSA. There are few truly fun and good surprises left in life and for me, opening that box to see what natural bounty lies in store for me and my family is one of them.


As I work toward creating a greener kitchen, and a happier home, this is one easy change to make. And hopefully, just one of many that will result in a happier and healthier family and also make our Earth just a wee bit happier and healthier, too.

Morning Has Broken

Brothers

Sometimes the love my sons show for one another shames me. They have such an amazing bond with one another, despite the normal sibling rivalry they also have.

If one of them is hurt or sad, often before I can make a move to comfort, the other brother is there, holding a hand, asking what's wrong, and trying to make his brother feel better.

They constantly say "I love you" to one another, share with one another, work hard to make each other laugh. 

Frankly, I am a little envious of their relationship. I never had a sibling and their bond is so amazing, and I pray, unbreakable, that I can't help but wish I had that. How I long for a sister.

I am incredibly thankful, though, that I get to see my sons experience this.

Of course, they're not perfect. I hear my share of "NO! THAT'S MINE!!!!" and "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" And sometimes, their bickering drives me crazy.

But their love for one another really overwhelms any sibling rivalry. 

This week Brendan went to visit his grandparents without Beckett. It was Boys' Week for the older grandsons and Beckett was deemed too young to keep up with all the activities planned for the big kids. On Monday when I dropped Brendan off, he was begging me to let Beckett go with him, saying he'd miss him. When it was time for bed that night, Beckett was sad because he was worried that Brendan wasn't sleeping at home.

Beckett has been on the verge of tears several times this week saying, "Brendan's never coming home. I miss Brendan." It's been a little heartbreaking.

Of course, today the first thing he told me was, "I don't want Brendan to come home." Then, he smiled slyly, and laughed when his dad said, "You do, too, want Brendan to come home."

I can't wait to enjoy those first few minutes when they're reunited today, when they're joyful and happy to see on another, before I hear the cries of "NO! MINE!".

Ten Thousand Words

I've spent the last two days working on articles for clients, one a magazine article for a newcomer's/relocation magazine, the other a friend's business that helps facilities streamline their recycling and sustainability efforts.

I wrote on two very distinct and different topics, learned a lot about both, and had a ball doing it. Mind you, I've been doing research for the article on my friend's business for a couple of weeks, interviewing two schools, including my alma mater, that have used her services, but only sat down yesterday afternoon and today to put all the pieces together.

After finishing both articles, and as I was writing, I just felt all jacked up. Energized. Happy. When I'm writing like that, learning new things and sharing that knowledge, I just feel as if I'm – okay, get ready for the crazy-talk – I feel as if I'm in the flow of the Universe. I feel like I'm connected, plugged in, tuned in, turned on, and right where I'm supposed to be doing what I'm supposed to be doing.

And then, I don't want to stop.

I can't believe it has taken me so long to see this and be able to articulate it. The problem is, however, that when I do that, it's hard to get anything else done. My house goes to Hell. My kids feel neglected.

Balance. I know. The magic word we all seek. My problem is, I go off on benders. I'll spend a week doing nothing but writing, tweeting, Facebooking, stopping to feed my kids, workout, eat, bathe, take my kids to play or do something so they're not totally ignored, but everything else like laundry, cleaning, etc. can just fall by the wayside until I snap out of the spell and see the mountains of laundry that threaten to topple over and bury a child.

Still, despite the warning signs, it was only today that I realized what was happening, that I was finding my groove, the place I want to be,need to be, and getting lost there. When I come up for air and try to manage the household in the way it should be managed, then I fall so far out of the vortex of joy I'm in when I'm writing consistently, that I start to feel depressed.

Maybe now that I actually see and accept what's happening I can find more of that balance. Give a little more attention to the things that need attention before they get out of hand, be that doing the laundry or writing about something I care about. And soon I believe the paid writing projects will pick up enough again that perhaps I can outsource my least favorite tasks. If only I really could hire someone to do my grocery shopping, laundry, and clean the bathrooms without breaking the bank. Oh to dream!

Something for Nothing

Feel free to check out this offer over on my new blog, Belle of the Blog Reviews.

It's a good deal.

Opinion

Per BlogHer's guidelines for their bloggers writing product reviews and sharing opinions about products or vendors (potential advertisers), I am launching my own review site as a companion to Belle of the Blog. It is called Belle of the Blog Reviews, because I like to KISS.

For now I'm going to leave my older product reviews on this site, but eventually when I have a little more free time (Yeah. Like when both boys go off to college in about 14 years or so!), I'll try to roll those over to the new blog.

In the meantime, I'll be posting reviews (never paid or compensated!) of things I like and don't like. Although I won't be accepting compensation for my reviews, I will review products that I have been invited to review. I will also be having some giveaways on the blog as I have the opportunity.

I hope you'll come check it out. Sign up as a Follower so you'll get my updates. And I really hope you'll all offer your feedback about products. If I diss something you love, tell me about it. But always be nice!

The Times They Are A-Changin'

Back in January, right after I turned 40 (BTW, You probably shouldn't know this, but I'll tell you anyway... Everytime I say that, I throw up in my mouth a little...), I decided it was time to get serious about getting fit. I had been doing the Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred, but decided I needed to step it up. I loved that workout and I was seeing great results, but I needed someone, other than Scott and that mean, badgering critic in my head (Hi, Mom!), to hold me accountable.

My deep-fried hot friend Jennifer had been going to a trainer named Eric for a while and followed him from the neighborhood L.A. Fitness to his own gym. I decided that whatever she was doing was working and since she spoke so highly of him, I decided it was worth a try. The price was steep but I don't regret it for one minute.

Yes, my body is reshaping and I love that. But so is my belief in myself and what I am capable of. Some of those critical voices in my head are beginning to quiet. And I, the real me, my Inner Being - that part of me connected most closely to God - is getting louder. And she's telling those voices in my head - my mom, old boyfriends, frenemies, bad teachers, bullies – well, she's telling them to shut the fuck up!

She's telling me that I am beautiful and vibrant and yes, at 40, still young. Still relevant. Still worthy of love and joy and excitement. Still worthy of Life.

And maybe some days I have to summon that Inner Being to remind me of those things again and again and again. But her voice is getting clearer to me.

It's not just the working out. (Oh! By the way, did I mention that I benchpressed 75=lbs. today? Pretty good for a chick, as my old highschool friend Shane the football player told me today.)

I've also been meditating, though not daily. I would love to fall asleep at midnight. Wake at six a.m. and meditate for at least 15 minutes before the wee ones awoke. Sadly, that ain't happenin'.

I fall asleep by midnight most nights, but then Cooper, our beautiful, sad, sweet 14-year old puppy awakes several times in the night. Last night was the first night in ages he only got up once. I'm giving him Valerian root, but he had been off it for a couple of weeks and totally regressed to his senile behavior. With little solid sleep, I've been a mess. Then, to top it off, Beckett or both boys have been coming into our room at around 6 a.m., meaning that even if I had gotten a solid night's sleep and awoken bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:00 a.m. like I want to do, I'd just be facing my little men telling me they were ready for their oatmeal or asking me to turn on the T.V. No time for meditation then.

Even still, when I do get to do it, while they're napping or watching a movie, I can tell it's making me feel more whole. More like a real woman capable of making tough decisions. I feel far more capable as a parent, more in tune with my own beliefs and less insecure about my parenting choices since I've been meditating.

Still, it's a practice I'd like to explore in more depth. My friend Chris, whose partner Yasuko teaches mediation at their joint venture, The Center for Remembering and Sharing, sent me a link to this article on mediation today. I found it extremely helpful. The train analogy really clicked for me.

Then there are the dietary changes. Scott and I, along with our kids by association, are also eating healthier. I've cut out almost all HFCS from our diet. The kids still get a few items that have it because there aren't really any affordable alternatives to some items and I really just am not ready to be the totally green mom who doesn't let her kids enjoy anything in life. Give me a few months.

We've also given up anything with aspartame in it, trying only to use Stevia as the only sugar alternative in our diet. Scott, too, is on the workout bandwagon and looking sexier than ever.

We're really focused on living healthy lives around here. And I'm really excited about that. My mother didn't really try at all to take care of herself. By the time she was my age she had already had a heart attack. And yes, that was partly due to the fact that she was a Type I Diabetic, but had she monitored her diet carefully and exercised and done all the things her doctors told her to do, in fact, had she gone to the doctor regularly, she could have prevented her death at 59 of ischemic cardiomyopathy.

I do not intend to leave my amazing sons motherless until they are well grown and I've seen my grandchildren. My mom essentially left me motherless at 12 when I had to start worrying about her health.

All that stinkin' thinkin' aside, I hope that soon I'll start to really notice some additional and tangible changes to all this healthy livin'. Like a little more joy. A little more love. A little more hot mama. And a whole lot less mean-woman up in my head.

Catch the Wind

I've been reading a lot lately about raising one's vibration in order to attract more of the things you want in life. For instance, if you raise your level to feel peaceful and happy more often, you'll find more of the things that make you feel peaceful and happy in life.

Life is full of mysteries and knowing that at an atomic/subatomic level there's a lot we don't fully understand, I am happy to accept this idea on faith just like I have my faith in God and Christ.

I've seen people I love dearly manifest both beauty and pain in their lives, their beliefs becoming their reality. For too long I've believed all the wrong things about myself, not because they were true, but because they were the messages I was told daily for over half my life. I absorbed those messages and kept repeating them to myself.

But now, just as Dona Leova told me weeks ago, it's time to write a new story for myself.

In this new story, I win.

Getting Better

A Facebook friend, a woman with whom I attended college, started a Facebook group called, "Everyday I Wake Up Happy No Matter What."

I overcame my fear of joining such a group and dove in. Whether it's true at this moment or not, I want it to be. Because I'll be damned if Life isn't pretty good.

No, it's not perfect. Yet. And it never will be. It's just a journey, with bumps and broken bridges, but with lots of gorgeous scenery and laughter and love to be shared along the way.

I have two amazing sons and a wonderful, sexy and handsome, devoted husband who takes amazing care of his family. And he's also hella talented.

Then there's the fact that I've had two wonderful projects come along lately. One creating a web site for local pet sitter. The other writing an article about a friend's company.

My boys and I spent the afternoon at the pool with some friends. I spent last evening playing Bunco with girlfriends from the neighborhood. Yesterday morning, I took my boys and my friend Lucy-Loo's two sons to the playground and we had a blast.

If I just get out of my head and stop dwelling on what's wrong with Life, what's wrong with me, or what's wrong with those around me, I am able to open my eyes to see all the amazing wonder that is, just waiting for me to acknowledge and appreciate it. And so, as I do, I find more and more good stuff to revel in!

I think it may have taken me several years, struggling with who I am and who I want to be and trying to become SOMEONE THAT MATTERED, to realize that who I am is okay. To know that I do matter.

I'm a passionate and loving wife who works every day to make herself better in some way. A steadfast mother who sees her faults and works hard to overcome them. A loyal friend who longs to grow closer to those in my life. A writer who has once and for all decided to embrace the thing I love and to pursue it with all my passion. I'm flawed, but I'm getting better all the time. Like a fine wine, appreciating my pressurized surroundings and constantly improving with age.

Rainy Days and Mondays

A big storm blew into Atlanta yesterday. Nothing, of course, compared to the gullywasher that hit Nashville over the weekend. I've been worried for my friends and family (even the cousin who isn't speaking to me and her kids), but it seems that, for the most part, my closest friends are safe and didn't have much damage.

The storm here kept our 13-year old shepherd mix, Cooper, awake from 1 a.m. on despite the Valerian Root I gave him before bed or the extra dose I gave him in the midst of the storm. I was up with him at one, two, and three o'clock. Brendan awoke at 4 a.m. and I awoke on the hour every hour until I missed 7 a.m. Beckett woke me at 7:30 so we could be 20 min. late for school. Go sleepy mom!

I feel blah and out of sorts, whether from the depressing weather or my lack of sleep. We had a great weekend so I should be totally energized. I want to write about it, especially Saturday night, but for now, I just need to get back to work and maybe catch a nap before Brendan comes home today.

Peace and Light to all.

Lazy Days and Saturdays

I've got a lot on my mind today, but nothing I really feel like writing about in depth.

I'm worried about the oil spill. My best friend is from Louisiana. One of my other best friends is from Mobile. As a result, I think a lot about those places and worry when tragedy strikes. Of course, I'd worry about this just as a citizen of the Earth. I have absolutely nothing profound to say on the subject. I just feel very troubled by it.

On a more positive note, my workouts are, well, working. Since January, my BMI is down by 6%. My waist is three inches smaller. My hips are two inches smaller. And my thighs are each an inch smaller. Sadly, I gained eight pounds. But, Eric, my trainer and owner of Eric's Fit Lab in Tucker, told me that I've gained because I've built so much muscle. I'm still not thrilled. I'm so psychologically invested in that number going down and in wearing a size 4. I was a 2 for much of the time I was in college until I was about 24. Still, I'm pretty pumped. In fact, I think I'm going to clean up the brunch dishes and head out for job while I can.

Scott is playing 500 Songs for Kids tonight at Smith's Olde Bar, so I need to get stuff done before it's time to go.

Love this lazy Saturday.

Hope whatever you're doing today, you're doing it with a full and happy heart.

Peace and Light.

Chillout

Looking for a reminder of how big and full of love the human heart can be?

Then, run, don't walk, to check out zefrank.com and in particular this post and song.

Listen to the song and then, please, please read the accompanying story of how the song came about.

My favorite part? Well, there are two really. But I won't spoil it for you by telling you because I want you to have the same goosebump inducing experience that I had while listening to it and reading about it. Scott shared it with me last night and I'm blown away, in complete awe both of the creative genius and heart that went into making it.

I will say this.... Be sure to listen to each part of the recording, the individual tracks contributed by Mr. Frank's readers/followers, and then note how it all comes together. A little bit like the world we live in where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

I'd like to know what you think about this. For me, it's one of those examples that reminds me why we're here. You know...the moments that make God not regret creating humans in the first place.

And tell me, what are some creative projects you've collaborated on and how did they turn out? Are you someone who likes to work with others or do you prefer a solo creative process?

Fuel

Doña Leova positively vibrates with grandmotherly otherworldly love and wisdom. As wise and ancient as she clearly is, there's something else...Her kind brown eyes dance and twinkle with the laughter of a mischievous young girl who has a secret she can't wait to share.

I am surprised and a little delighted when she looks at me with her laughing, knowing eyes as I sit in the folding chair just to the right and facing her and says "Mi niña bonita, me dice acerca de Vida..."

Roberto, Doña Leova's charming, laughing translator repeats, "Tell me about Life, pretty little girl." And so it went. I sat spellbound, listening to Roberto's voice, rich and resonant, as he repeated the words of this...this beautiful woman who defies description. Native healer. Aztec Shaman. Midwife. Mother and grandmother. Healer and friend of Yogi Bhajan, the Sikh guru who brought Kundalini Yoga to the United States in the 1960s and whose motto was, "If you can't see God in all, you can't see God at all."

Soon, Scott wandered over and joined our little circle of seekers. Doña told us lovely stories of her granddaughter who speaks the native Nahuatl language fluently although her parents don't. She told us magical stories of the love between that same granddaughter and her pet cat who disappeared for 20 days while the child visited her other grandparents and who reappeared the same day the granddaughter returned home. And as she told the story, her crinkly-innocent brown eyes were filled with such joy! There was also something so magical and engaging about watching Roberto's face as he listened closely and then re-told her stories in English. I've never really had an up close experience with a translator, something so fun and informal, and it was a delight to behold. I really loved it.

As one of her stories wound to a close, a woman approached Doña and asked her for a healing. I had wanted to, but she had performed several before I walked over and so I assumed she was either tired or done for the evening. As the young woman sat on the chair before Doña, Bo-Maen, one of her hosts in NYC, tried to discourage the young woman, saying Doña was tired. But Roberto assured us that she was not tired, but rather that the more she works with others, the more her energy increases.

The young woman seemed to be expecting more of a metaphorical exprience, I think. Roberto kept telling her to get out of her head..."Between the ears, nothing but sky." After several minutes, the young woman seemed satisfied that she had received an energy transfer or something that Doña Leova had done had worked and she moved away from the group.

At that point, Bo-Maen and Doña motioned for Scott to sit in the healing chair. Calling him muchacho pequeno she asked him what he did. Upon learning that he is a musician, she told him she felt he needed to sing more from the heart. We both replied, "More?"

I felt tears pricking my eyes as she immediately saw into Scott and knew what was blocking him. She worked with him for quite a while on breathing and encouraged him to release his blocks. It was a beautiful and amazing thing to watch. I got chills as she immediately addressed Scott's concerns.

Then, it was my turn. Doña Leova began by using the same technique she had used on all the others to read their energy, pressing her knuckles into my chest while resting another hand upon my shoulder. I was surprised by her strength and by how intense the pressure was. No one else had indicated any sense of pain, but I immediately began crying because the pressure was so intense. Of course, I was already feeling emotional after witnessing Scott's experience.

Next she stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders and cradling my head in her hands. She told me to cry, grito linda chica. y lo deja salir. I refrained from sobbing out loud, but did let the tears flow. Then Roberto told me to keep my eyes closed..."Between the ears, nothing but sky." Doña Leova held my hands and gave me a smooth, round, beautiful marble to hold between my palms, giving me the energy of the Earth.

After several moments, she asked me if I was muy bien. I said, si, muy bien, but she said, "No. No muy bien. Usted tiene griterío a hacer." No. You are not well. You have more crying to do.

She then said the most profound thing anyone has ever said to me, I think. "You are not the story in your head. You are more than that. Release it and let it go." She urged me to choose happiness and helped me recount the blessings for which I am grateful, especially my children. Roberto expanded on her wisdom by saying, "Look around this room. If you want to find something here that you like, you will find it. But if you look for something you don't like, that is what you will find."

It sounds so simple and so obvious maybe, but I feel as though the scales have been lifted from my eyes and for the first time in quite a few years, I see clearly.

I am so much more than the story in my head and I live in an amazing time in an amazing world filled with amazing opportunities.

I am blessed, but so much more than ever before for opening myself up to this joyful, delightful, mystical opportunity. I am striving to hold onto this feeling of love and peace that was given to me by this beautiful, magical woman who showed up in my life at just the right time.

I almost chose not to go to NY with Scott on this trip. I am thankful the voice in my head kept pushing me to do it and that I listened. I am eternally grateful to have had this opportunity.

Peace and Light.

The Perfect Space

Returning from a hiatus as long as the one I've taken from this blog is difficult. There's much I want to say and more that I don't care to mention. And so it is.

I choose to move forward without looking back, steadily moving into my future and all the blessings it holds.

For years I have feared certain aspects of myself. I live my life, much of the time, as if I am two people. Conservative housewife and former businesswoman Dawn and artistic, creative, dreamer, spiritual Dawn. I haven't ever really figured out how to merge those two. And it seems to me that the people who embrace one of those aspects aren't the same who would embrace the other.

What to do?

This past weekend I had an experience – several actually – that I hope have opened the door to my being able to fully integrate all aspects of my being. I hope I find myself free to be whoever it is I feel like being no matter whom I am around. Smart and sensible or Beautiful Dreamer creating a new reality for myself and those I love.

On Friday, Scott and I flew to NYC to help celebrate with our friends Christopher and Yasuko the re-opening of The Center for Remembering and Sharing, an arts and healing center the two of them run together. As Yasuko put it in her speech on Saturday night, her healing work and the artistic endeavors of those who teach and perform there are meant to help us "remember who we are and to share ourselves with others."

To celebrate the opening and highlight some of the extremely talented performers who work with CRS, the evening's performances included two delightful dancers, an acclaimed violinist who was whisked away to perform with the NY Philharmonic immediately following her performance, and Scott, playing a 10-song set.

The crowd attending the event was made up of some of the most interesting people I have had the pleasure of talking to in years. Artists of all types, including visual artists, singers, dancers, actors, and composers. There were healers. There were healers who were also artists. There were yogis and yoginis, many of whom were also artists. It was a very inspiring group of people.

I loved hearing their stories.

There was, of course, Yasuko, who founded CRS and with Chris has helped hundreds of individuals connect with their passions and grow in their art. I loved hearing how she found herself alone in the U.S. with no job and no idea of what she was meant to do, but the strong knowledge that she was meant to be right where she was and how her searching led her to her life's work. I loved it when she told me that at 49 she took her first ballet lesson to support a friend of hers who had just resumed teaching ballet after her husband left her and then, a few days, after turning 50, Yasuko had her first dance recital, pink tutu and all.

I enjoyed talking to the man from New Jersey who teaches aikido and who took up copywriting after retiring from a completely different career.

There was the woman who had a friend sing a traditional Japanese song about the ghost of a scorned woman who comes back to seek revenge on her filandering husband, at her wedding. And of course, there was the woman who sang the song at the wedding, who as it turns out, is a Japanese woman who sings gospel music.

There were also the Chinese accupuncturist/yogini, the writer from London, the Swedish painter, and the Eastern European woman who didn't know anyone and escaped before I could chat with her, but who came to the event just because she was curious what the place was all about.

I wish I could still be there talking to all the fascinating people I didn't get to meet. What I plan to do is to hold onto as much of that intoxicating energy and inspiration as I can.

There's much more to share, especially about my fascinating healing experience with Doña Leova, a traditional Nauahtl shaman, who was the healer to Yogi Bhajan, originator of Kundalini Yoga in the U.S. My experience meeting her was amazing and I can't wait to share it with you tomorrow.

Peace and Light.

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