Author: embodyedtides

It’s so interesting to consider metaphors of weather and the influence on our moods. For example, the moon is said to align with tides’ pulls, and we humans are made up mostly of water. It would be sensible, then, that both the meteorology and astrology carries impact on us.

Lately, I have been feeling a personal positioning in the “eye” of others’ storms. As in my empathy and/or sensitivity seems to flux with another’s emotions or communication. Among my own energetically “windy” days, it can feel at times like there is chaos or destruction. Anger, irritability, sadness. And whoosh! this past weekend was an emotional tugging toward such sentiments.

Without knowing exact causation on or even correlations to the “what/where/how,” it showed up like a slamming screen door. I was lucky enough to already accessing a quieter weekend at home, though that can bring about turmoil at times, doesn’t it? With some space softening, we’re open to both beauty & demise. The joy & the pain.

So if you find yourself in the gusts of these powerful sensations or feelings or emotions —
— like weather —
they too, do pass.

It can be difficult to remember this.

But each of us experiences a storm within, when the world around us also feels hard and disruptive.

Looking forward to getting outside myself, today. In order to reconnect with other patterns inside of me, and to feel lovingly small in the world. After all, it’s all precious when we realize how short life really is. Inhaling and exhaling until next time . . .

“I don’t need to write a post. . . oh, but I think I’d like to . . . “

It comes now on a grey afternoon, after this much-needed rain. Yes, it has been such reprieve. Both in the atmosphere and my emotional sphere(s). Choosing to write some words on the screen comes after the tizzy of a couple of wild days, as we shift into September & when my own physiology screams ‘Fall!’ though still it’s not here for three weeks more, is it?

I felt like, I haven’t written since April, why would I choose now? And then that other voice, the other side of the same coin calls out, “Why not?”

As if I need a magic point in my day to write.

As if I need a potent circle of readers to take on at the exact moment.

As if I need a world to share in, when the world simply needs more of us to share.

And as I see this black text over a white screen, sometimes my many voices play tricks on me.

It’s not enough to write so infrequently.

It’s not enough to not have a firm theme for your blog.

It’s not enough to have a voice that carries into writings beyond posts of 200 words or less.

Must I write poetry?

Must I learn music and write lyrics?

Don’t I like movies, must I learn how to create scripts?

The biggie: must I pretend I write anything at all until / if / as I acquire the gumption to write a book?

All the musings in the world do better on out of my head, dear choir. The songs that get played over and over in my brain. And perhaps yours are like that, too. When we try to turn down the volume its like more accompaniments come in and deny our experience in hearing the core of our own harmony: we each have gifts to offer and there’s no time like now.

Which is not to say it can’t wait – sometimes we have the means of trusting our pace and that too is a gift of intuition. Why not believe that I can take breaks and return to something?

The summer for yours truly has been a soft one. Much adorned like the year’s word I proposed on January 1 – I took on more training into ceramics, obtained the humility of a dry heat that killed off foliage. Still gallivanting at times to the salty shores and on occasion the fresh waters or poolside waves. It was hiking outdoors and daring to wear smaller clothing in the brutal sun. Sharing a glare of my tan skin and thinking, “Why not? Why not now?”

We don’t have tomorrow until it comes.

Do the thing. Rest when you need. Breathe in and out. And keep it going.

I’ll come back, too, dear Reader. Eventually.

A reminder if you’re reading this.
Come back here to read it again,
any time.

This title above is for me, today.
The ideas circling, and the page remaining blank. Blinking cursor and all.

Writing can be such a sweet space to allow thoughts to flow. A flow often found in “stream-of-consciousness” prompting for journals or prose. I first recall this effort back in my 9th grade English class. Feeling both mesmerized and nauseated by the thought.

Mrs. Shaw allowed for any topic to boot, so it is one my first (sickening) memories of feeling out to sea with no life preserver. Internalizing, “But who would want to read these wanderings I own?”

[“do I own them?”]

The same sentiment experienced now, too.

Though I notice how much of that perfectionistic/procrastination and ambivalence in my way, arises from an adage like: “push back so I’m not pushed.” The musings of this blog-now-turned-website-and-following-soon-after-a-business, still provides a creativity, amongst the ebbs and flows.

You see, today is no different.
I just face the waves differently.

Sometimes I see the comforts of the windy dunes, sandy beach towels, & family wading alongside me. Other times it’s out far beyond the horizon and gray storm clouds, beyond the surf, that I gulp for air. That I swallow the sea waters and a salty throat strains my voice. Restricts how I’d like to be heard.

And, I know there are more revelations than just those two.

More shadows. More ripples discoverable in my considerations of knowledge & practicalities. More times in which to offer practices or exercises that might lessen intensities within our mental health. More currents aligned to the ‘beingness’ of me, that can morph into poetry or fiction.

Today it’s the latter, I suppose.

Musings of a silent tide. In and out.

“You can’t do anything about the length of your life, but you can do something about its width and depth.” [H. L. Mencken]

The title of this post was the name of my first website blog, initiating somewhere in the late-90s when I was just about to begin high school. Seems unfindable now – which is perhaps just as well. Though I wonder, what could it mean to expand my personal and professional explorations of ‘Self,’ when it appears like former versions are somewhat lost or gone?

Social media and most general technology these days feels like both a blessing and nuisance. It is the primary way in which we can communicate from afar, create a workspace, and generate a vehicle in which (some personal) and most professional lives can happen. It saves a lot (though no everything) to a cloud of some kind, so I hear. And there are moments when you wish it deleted everything out there. There is also an irony in serving clients in an online capacity, while encouraging them simultaneously to “unplug” at least daily, and for quite possibly a large chunk of the day.

Our kiddos utilize technology for their schooling, crafts, and downtime. They can maintain a sense of connection to their family across the country with Facetime. My son began his academic lineage through this virtual context with Kindergarten in the pandemic; my daughter has reached the point of using the occasional boyband music as a means of soothing her rougher days, cranking up BTS from the computer.

I’m reaching you online right now, aren’t I?

And the ways in which ‘I Aim to Grow’ my business can often depend on the nature of how technology serves. How I market, how I engage. It’s like much relationship-building these days. This ‘network thing’ more like ‘occupational dating.’ Not as easy to acquire folks I plan to work with simply by strolling the Wissahickon park system (though wouldn’t that be lovely!)

As I age, I also notice the shifts in my experience to technology on a sort of physiological level. Beginning a blog felt somewhat artsy and exciting. I began diving into it more consistently when my private practice began because I had ‘heard’ that words matter on the web, and SEO could be affected, and while I recognize the benefits of following some sort of suit when carving out a professional stance, I’ve also aimed to make it a mission to try and be real with people time to time. To connect in person. To see those facial expressions and body language cues in real time.

I miss much of it, currently. And while I scatter impressions on the keyboard of my Mac during this revelation of just how much I missed writing not only for myself, but perhaps a reader (or two) out there, to create this syntax, I miss the flesh. I miss the smells and other wildly engaging sensory affection of being in shared physical (and thus, energetic), space with people.

Perhaps it’s coming soon. More of this.
Perhaps we’re not so sure.

For now, I write. Maybe not as frequently (obviously) as before my availability & mental capacity was struck down and out, but just maybe enough for now. This could be the unearthing of a lost version of my person in prose.

Hope you’re well.

Hi, there. Phew.

July?!

It’s been a bit since I’ve felt somewhat inspired to write. Perhaps not merely inspired but at all sparked enough by any strong feeling to do so. Journaling privately has remained a practice. But to organize thoughts enough for an online written symposium here? Looks like not so for the past several months.

I logged back into my website today to edit something, and when I scrolled over to ‘Posts,’ I see that I had 3 drafts of blog entries. More than I would have recalled. I even read through the lot of them to see if what I had once typed out carried any similar connectedness to where my brain is now.

And then it became too much. To read where my thoughts were then (whenever it was pending the entry) and to bridge the words with where my thoughts and feelings are today. A long sigh. Click-clack. A scrunched up shoulder and wince of my eye. My stomach flips a bit.

July. What a wry month, and it’s only day 8! We have a pup in surgery in this very moment that I see letters unearthing horizontally on the screen; not to mention the heat extended, the impact of self-pressured over-socializing, an insurance glitch here, a camp goof there. July. You lie.

In my birthday card spread with Kim Krans’ The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Deck, July this year is governed by the Raccoon. Crafty and dark, the wise subtext indicative that my own success and / or self-observance is to be done so cautiously. And how am I to create in this way, in this wonder of early-onset mishaps of July? Curious. Curious and mindful not to falter or follow too longingly into the dark caverns where raccoons engage in thievery. I decided to give myself this morning a bit of pep compassion talk.

Breathe, Carly.
Exhale, again.
It is always anew.
Yes, you’re going through some things.
Yes, your pup is going through some healing.
Yes, your family is riding the recent ebb and hopefully sought-after, inevitable flow.

July, I don’t know what I expected of you. Though I suppose this draft you’re offering up is merely the precursor to all other July’s I will embrace in my own time in years to come. It doesn’t need to be final. Nothing really is, is it?

The kinds of dismantling and interruption asked required of us during a global crisis, seems in some way parallel to the behavior we must individually face anytime placed atop a pedestal is either a person or system or entity perceived to be of superior value. As if they are or could be infallible.

I think back on the time(s) in my life when for instance:

~ Parents knew it all.
~ Teachers had all the answers.
~ Trainings taken always seemed ‘better’ or more informative than ones I had taken prior.

Maybe in part it’s, “know better, do better.” Possibly more so, “learn some, unlearn more.” For Black and BIPOC lives (Black Indigenous Persons of Color), the kinds of structural break we need to make is not only necessity, but long overdue. And not merely the last 4 years — try the last 400 in what we call America, alone. As a white woman, I am consistently needing to invest in personal and professional antiracist work towards the collective liberation deserving of us all. To unlearn systemic mistrust in the richest way possible, I believe it’s about learning from those who have the expertise, which usually is by way of those with lived experiences I have not or could not.

I work with therapy clients who are moving towards their personal freedoms within their family of origin and other generational traumas of oppression such as racial/ethnic bigotries, relationship needs, attachment. I surround myself with contacts whose relationships over time might fall apart if and once they recognize that whomever they thought they were with isn’t flawless, either.

How in your life have pedestals been placed? In what ways can you honor the system at hand by taking them out? Knocking them down?

I think this takes some real, hard honesty. It can be a very trying experience to, for example, look into the depths of what makes us uncomfortable or frustrated and see it in others close to us. Growing as a Mother myself, unlearning the processes that I beg no longer be placed upon me in a patriarchal way as well as a familial one. Joking with my mom herself about “why she didn’t tell me how f-#%&@ hard this is.”

Maybe pedestals simply belong in our gardens, underneath bird baths. Available for others to drink from rather than arch their neck to seek perfection. Might you clear your own mental landscape in this way? Get out of your emotional blocks by beginning to come down from impossible quests rather than falsely make an ascent to what cannot exist?

I just want to offer very briefly: If right now you’re feeling anxious, excited, grief-stricken, hopeful, fearful, ambivalent, numb, unsure, fiery, disappointed, angry, despondent, pleased, worried, content, ready, engaged, detached — or any other number of emotions — this. is. NORMAL.

We’re in such a weird time! And I can’t help but reflect on the fact that the system under which our feelings and sensations operate is called a “NERVOUS” system, which brings me both a bit of understanding and levity.

Of COURSE our body’s way of surviving has to be a bit nervous to survive. We must detect threat (evolutionarily speaking) to achieve getting to where we are. Our brain must look/feel for what could be death-influencing for us to respond in a way that ensures our life.

We also like to make-meaning as Humans, and so there are often intellectual measures of deciding when/if how we respond to something through “overreaction” or “out of line”. Now, I still observe & comprehend that this value is important, so as to cultivate an invitation of pause or awareness that can support growth in a relational context, a work conflict, and so on.

However — I want to reiterate, we are built for survival. Your re-actions (REsponse through BEhavior or ACTion) are welcomed as. they. ARE.

Let’s attempt to save judgments of how folx are understanding and interacting with the multitude of challenges among political, health-related, social, and peripheral experiences among the US election, occupational or academic roles, and global pandemic.

Perhaps ceasing as much self-induced judgment as possible. If this short post is any simple offering, consider it permission to let yourself embody whatever you consciously or unconsciously need to at this moment.

The school year / Fall season is in full-swing. Even though we’re technically a few days away from that calendar-labeled Equinox. Though I wonder if you can feel the cooler temperatures and notice the earlier evening twilight.

As I sit right now in my son’s room during virtual learning (essentially to go through Kindergarten for a second time), I am lucky enough to witness directly the kinds of engagement from the teachers who are navigating this alongside them on screen.

Naturally, like many of us grownups dealing with online meetings in the pandemic, it’s clear the children are also facing much screen-time fatigue and frustration. Not to mention possible internet-related glitches. Just today our little neighborhood had a very unplanned power outage.

How do we hold space for equity during this weird time? How do we handle the variability of how kids can engage to the best of their ability?

I must admit I feel this disparity practically in each period. Viscerally. A slight cringe in my chest if a student doesn’t have the materials they need, or the teacher calls them out for not looking at the screen, maybe the scholar could use extra support in managing all the functions of mute or end call. Where are they learning? Is it at home? Surrounded by safety or chaos?

And, I certainly do not believe any educator who prefers this method since the local public school system isn’t aptly set up for it. Consider the experience they’re having without being in person. What a heartache, no doubt!

Though I still find myself today with an internally dampened heart, in listening to intermittent absence of trauma human-informed wisdoms that could ultimately encourage the students at times, rather than disparage.

I myself began a training this past weekend and we were implored to take breaks as needed. Look away from the screen to listen only, or turn off our cameras. To stand and move our bodies if feeling ‘stuck’ wasn’t working for listening and participating.

How do we implement the kind of compassion for our little ones in this novel school experience? I won’t have the answers, of course, but I’d like to offer some musings. Some are of my own pondering, and there are others I’ve heard or read recently.

• “Can you find a grown up to help?” [instead of “Go get your parents” or “Go get your mom or dad”]
• “Hi everybody!” [instead of “Hi Guys!”]
• “Let’s try to listen in, friends,” [instead of “All right boys & girls…”]
• “Can we give a thumbs-up to show you’re with me?” [instead of “Pay attention to the screen.”]
• “How about we take out a blank piece of paper for now,” [instead of “You should have the supplies by now.”]
• “Can you share what you think?” [instead of “You’re supposed to be doing what we are, right now.”]

What ways do you think we can hold compassion and understanding for our youth right now? And for yourselves?

In reflection & kindness.

To say that our transition into Fall this year looks different than those previously would be quite the understatement. Many schools are completely online, families continue to work from home, making decisions about where to travel (if at all) becomes more time-consuming, not to mention who do you include in your ‘quarantine pod’ for social connection?

The concept of non-attachment is certainly not specific to 2020, though it seems to have taken on a unique importance as we navigate some of this year’s hardships.

Non-attachment is a Buddhist term that centers on the idea of not allowing our emotions to rule our decisions or desires, as well as not holding onto connections or material things. Sound difficult? No worries, if it does – you’re not alone in thinking so.

What if you reflect on your emotions thus during quarantine? Possibly: content, fear, anger, sadness, grief, frustration, joy, apathy. Have any of them lingered? Do you find it easier to stay with the ones that feel better? Has accepting the many changes during these past 6 months felt challenging?

I don’t doubt that your experiences are personal and specific to you. However, I’d like to validate the normalcy of any ‘stuckness’ felt. Being in a certain emotional state for several hours or even days is pretty common. There are likely other emotions visiting during those times, but there may be a general theme that presents for you.

~ How do we practice noticing how we feel, without judgment?

~ How do we practice acknowledging when things feel different, without judgment?

~ How do we practice welcoming the full-range of our experience, without judgment?

Check out that word, practice! Through repetition, trial & error, and compassion, we can embody non-judgment and I believe also the practice of non-attachment. Which is also to say, that it stays in motion and is ever-evolving.

I like to remind folx that “practice makes practice,” not perfection. Non-attachment works similarly as its intention is all about accepting “what is” in the moment. This kind of presence plays a part in being aware and non-judgmental, which supports us in not latching onto the outcome of something. Consider these possible statements that hypothetically address some of the curiosities above:

“I notice the anger in my chest / the nervousness in my belly. I see I am in traffic / am about to pitch an idea to my boss. It makes sense that I would feel this way. And it will pass.”

“I can see that the way I engaged in class feels more exciting this week. I welcome the part of me that is interested for my teacher’s lesson.”

“The history within our relationship confuses me at times. Has he changed? Have I? Perhaps we both have. I am willing to explore it.”

“Seems like it would be helpful to adapt to what is happening with our family’s finances. I think looking for additional work will help me feel more secure.”

Give it a try, and if you like you can let me know how it goes for you to practice non-attachment in the coming days or weeks.

And I invite you to remember, there’s no one way — not even a right way — of being who you are.