I’ve been feeling a little melancholy the last few days. These dips have been present within me for as long as I can remember, but especially so since becoming a mother. I find them creeping in on the days when I don’t make myself a priority. A missed workout, an unopened book, blank pages in my journal - all daunting reminders of the ways I’m not always able to show up for myself as I’d like to. I feel it as those moments of resentment, when my husband is showering alone or going to rub shoulders at a playoff game. When I’m tied to rope of what needs to be done rather than what I want to be doing, I feel the echos of my autonomy and the women I used to be.

But while I long for those moments of freedom and some semblance of a routine, I don’t long to be her. My children have cracked my spirit wide open, allowing me to love in a way I’ve never fathomed. To experience a sense of selflessness I never thought I would know. They have full access for a lifetime to last minute cancellations and the final bite of every good morsel I may savor. When I look at them, I see the good growing within me and the best pieces of me budding into who they will become. Whatever I am meant to do in the future, I know it cannot be accomplished without becoming the woman they are awakening within me.

In the same moment I spent sipping my cacao, I listened to a short meditation on “showing up for self”. As it ended, an enthusiastic woman bellows “your time will come, my darling.” A reminder I always need to hear, to trust in the timing of your life. To trust that you are being equipped with the skills you need for that big break. Just as these rainy days won’t last forever and the water flooding the world around me will dry up, so too will this season of motherhood. A brighter day will come, my moments of freedom will return, and life will change shapes yet again. I bet from that future season I will look back on this one with that same longing I now feel for the woman I once was. Every passing day we are shedding who we were before. In those moments of clinging, ruminating, feeling lost what epiphanies may await us if we just let it all wash away?

There is a gift in water. It is life sustaining and it holds a boundless wisdom. Water gives us the tools to nourish and pour into ourselves. Water cleanses us. Water shows us that with an easeful fluidity, we can take the shape of whatever container life is presenting us at this time. I think I’ll go play in the rain now.

You have enough, you are enough, you do enough. I love you and I’m rooting for you.

Shonna

I had a full day planned, a solo mission to the circus with both babies. After numerous calls to friends and family asking if they wanted our extra tickets, I had no takers. I felt nervous, excited, capable, and confused all in wrapped up in one big package. I was doing it. I was winging it. I packed plenty of snacks and left with plenty of time. As we arrived to the venue, I gathered my ducklings and off we went. Sister was on my chest, snugly in a wrap and Bubs was holding my hand. We walked in flow through the parking lot, my head on a swivel as I juggled watching for cars and listening to tales Transformers on construction sites. As we approached the entry line, I unzipped my belt bag and handed over our tickets as the woman at the door asked “how old is your baby”. I smiled and replied, “she’s six weeks”. Her brow furrowed. “Oh my, and you have her out her in this crowd around the public doing things”, the judgement waving about in the air as she shook her head from side to side. I smiled again, “she’ll be alright”, swallowing my ego and my first piece of unsolicited advice. There was plenty more I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I grabbed my tiny guy’s hand and into the chaos of concessions we went. And chaos is what he felt.

Immediately, he stopped dead in his tracks on the concourse and began to whine, “Mommy, I don’t want to. I don’t want to go.” As I tried to reason with my toddler (what an oxymoron) to buy a light saber or a pretzel as trade for walking into the show, he only grew more frustrated. His tone growing louder and tears on the horizon as he told me again “I don’t want to. I don’t want to go to the circus.” Not willing to risk a full blown meltdown and not leaving without a fair shot, I scooped all 30 pounds of him with one arm onto my free hip. Baby on my right, big boy on my left we walked into the circus and found an aisle with three empty seats. For a moment more as we adjusted to the lights and sounds, my son persisted to struggle against me. Once again, I scooped him up and as it turns out, I only needed two seats. My diaper bag taking the aisle and all three of us lumped together in one seat to watch the show. What started out as a mild disaster wound up being 65 of my life’s sweetest minutes. My daughter slept the entire show nuzzled up against me and my son sat on my right thigh watching intently, sharing his interpretations of what he saw. Mission accomplished.

We left the circus and went to lunch. I was experiencing a “capability high”. I was so proud of myself for not letting fear keep us indoors today. I was so proud of myself for not talking smack to the judgmental lady at the door. I was so proud of myself for getting my son to settle and enjoy the show. I always joke that when a mom has another baby she should get another set of arms and hands that fall off once that baby is old enough. They would’ve been useful today, but I didn’t need them. I was enough and I was momming hard. Today was a good day. As we sat down to barbecue and Topo Chicos, I laughed and giggled with my son. When we were finished, we piled back into the car and both babies fell soundly asleep on the car ride home. Mission accomplished.

It was 1pm when we got home, still a full day ahead of us after a morning full of adventure. We spent it outside, my son painting the rocks that decorate our front yard. I got a bit of laundry done and around 3p, Dad joined us and we watched a movie together. A little bit later, Nana arrived to whisk little man away for a sleepover. I had the whole evening with just one baby, what would I do with it? I had so many ideas once she went to sleep - maybe yoga, or my New Moon journal, or a meditation. Maybe a book or maybe a bath. None of this happened. When my baby went down to bed at 8p - I binge watched Reacher on Prime with my husband until I fell asleep. Mission failed.

Was this productive? In a million ways, absolutely. As we laughed, ate popcorn, and bantered over this action packed mystery, we bonded. But in this binge also lived my undoing, I had broken my 63 day self care streak and all it took to keep it going was five minutes, tops. I could’ve easily pressed pause, but I had simply forgotten. I had been on a roll. Each day doing yoga, a meditation, breath work, journaling, reading, napping, baths - something for me in everyday even if just for a moment. Today, in the excitement of the circus adventure and some 1:1 time with my husband, I failed to give myself that much needed moment of intentionality. A story that so many of us know all too well, the driving mission behind the shift in my work.

When I awoke the next morning I was met with a glaring red exclamation on the Home Screen of my phone; “save your streak?” As I tried to reason with myself, playing through the whole of my day to see if there was any moment I had carved out as my own, I only came up with a trip alone to the bathroom. I couldn’t lie and in the moment I choose to click “no”, something else profound happened. Integrity entered the chat. Gratitude swelled up inside of me as I took solace in the knowing that even when no one else was around, I wouldn’t lie to myself. As my pride grew, something else seeped in - a reminder about devotion. I had made a commitment to myself for 63 good days, which was something to celebrate. I chose myself in the throes of motherhood and life itself everyday for two months and I wouldn’t let that be soiled by the one day that I had forgotten to. That devotion leveled up into grace.

Today is day two of my new streak. Sitting in front of this computer writing this passage is a testament to my continuity. As is the empty cup of cacao sitting next to me, sipped before began to write while listening to a set of affirmations this morning. My bandwagon is reconstructed and it has taken off again. If I fall off - I only have to remember to run after it and hop back on. Mission accomplished.

You have enough. You do enough. You are enough.

I love you and I’m rooting for you. 💖

Shonna

It is a generational dynamic I have seen replicated by the women in my life time and time again. The men, too. In fact, marriage has always terrified me because no one in my immediate family has ever survived it. I have seen the wreckage and lived through rebuilding after multiple divorces firsthand. At twenty, I moved 1500 miles away to escape it. Sure, like most other young woman witnessing codependency and external validation as a love language I thought every boyfriend had the potential to be “the one”. I spent an uncanny amount of time trying to fix these broken seashells, scouring the beach of my own heart for the pieces that would make them whole. And then one day, a long walk on an actual beach under the influence of psychedelic mushrooms showed me my own ways. I chose to be the one in my lineage that ended this dynamic. I then began to spend an uncanny amount of time with myself instead. Traveling the world, often alone, with a vision of falling into myself before I ever opened up to the magnitude of another. Not only with high hopes of avoiding the destiny of the women before me, but to invoke a deep knowing that I would be fulfilled simply from loving myself for the rest of my life.

Three years after that conquest, I married my husband.

I do believe this narrative is on the precipice of shifting. I also know that weddings are a billion dollar industry. Still yet, I have hope that my daughter and my son will grow up in a world where they are shown more often how to first be her own happily ever after. At least, this is what I will aim to teach. That we are not a single half in search of the person that makes us whole or makes us better. That we first must be two wholes and that we must commit first to our own betterment. So that if and when we do quest to find another, our relationships will play out in a healthy way. But even healthy doesn’t mean easy. Healthy is hard. Healthy requires self awareness and the desire to recreate systems that derail what many of us witnessed growing up. We will undoubtedly fail at healthy, time and time again, because we are only human.

The lie that we’ve been sold about a horse drawn chariot coming to carry us away into a lifetime of fairytale worthy love is why people quit. Marriage is not magical. It is hard work, like anything else in this world worth having. It is a commitment to make the choice to show up, day in and day out in all the ways that you vow to do so. It is a knowing that there will be moments when you will feel sad, disrespected, misunderstood, and beyond. In these moments, you will have the choice to choose to acknowledge the whole of the days rather than one bad moment and trudge onward anyway. You will have to find your voice, having the hard conversations with tact and levity. You will lose your patience and sometimes your temper. You will want to quit and you will talk about it. You will map out all of the ways you can leave, fantasizing about a life on your own. And then, if you are like me, you will breathe taking a good look at the life, the family, and the beautiful experience you are living. You will still your ego and let your spirit lead. This is the trickiest part - “for better or for worse, through sickness and in health” is only the beginning. Through self evolution, through aging, through physical change, through boredom, through financial woes, through career changes, through childrearing, through identity crises - it’s all a part of the show. It is what you signed up for.

Our “swipe right” society has baked instant gratification into the culture of commitment. I think that many people get married now with the expectation that they can always get a divorce. The reality of “I Do” missing the mark of all the likes and congratulatory comments the wedding received on social media. The shininess wearing off and the heard work setting in. I’m not telling you to stay in a treacherous situation, that’s not what this reflection is about. There are plenty of good reasons to leave an unhealthy dynamic. But I am urging you, urging all of us, to ponder this question: What resiliency and gifts may come out of riding out those times that are painstakingly hard, but not harmful? In the moments when tragedy or hardship befalls us? When our bodies are saggy and our sex life sucks? What happens if we choose to walk uphill together when our golden carriage reverts back to pumpkin status?

Many people are simply addicted to falling in love. Those feel good hormones of a new or rekindled spark buzzing in their brains in the same way as many narcotics do. Only because it’s not an illegal substance, they often don’t know or won’t admit to their addiction. If we are living in this space, we must know that we will never be able to feed the insatiable need to experience lust, newness, and the megawatt fireworks show that accompanies the drug of falling in love. We will also never experience the beauty or safety of true companionship. So, how do we find contentment in the simplicity of a handheld sparkler instead? I believe the foundation of this mindset like everything else comes from your relationship with self. Are you capable of filling the needs first that you expect to be met by another? If the answer is not a resounding yes than keep working on it before you commit. If you’re in a dynamic where you committed before this realization was true for you, can you have a candid conversation and grow in self love together? If the situation is truly toxic and too far gone can you commit to self love, a deep knowing of yourself, before you run into the arms of another?

I listened to a meditation last week with a line that struck a chord deep in the seat of my own being: “I felt unseen and then I remembered to look in the mirror.” How we redefine our relationship with self allows us to feel capable and complete as whole humans on our own rather than incessantly seeking that wholeness in another. Witness yourself first in a way that then allows you to be and find solace in another. This is the magic. You are the magic.

You have enough. You do enough. You are enough.

I love you and I’m rooting for you.

Shonna

Wisdom is the language of the soul. We must first be in tune with its frequency to receive it. Not every person who has acquired the years is tuned into the frequency. We can see wisdom reflected in our actions and choices more than in our words.

I believe that babies and children are the freshest souls.

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“You are human, my child.”

It comes from a voice residing somewhere deep within my soul. Is it God? Maybe. Is it my higher self? I don’t know. But what I do know is that the answers to these questions and many more I have often received the answers for. In the moments when I choose to quiet my mind and my body to receive them. And even when the arrive, my ability to implement them is often fleeting at best.

I often use the phrase that “life is the ceremony”. What it means to me is this:

All of the preparation we are doing to feel calmer, to listen better, to be present, to soften, while not in vain, is often overshadowed by our need to be right.

How are we doing in this walk and in this work when we leave that mat? When we close the door to the therapists office and re-enter the real world? When we put ourselves in the environments that our “practices” are designed to transcend? For many of us on many of our days, we still respond from that very human place. We fall back into the deepest codes of our physical being; from that space of pure survival. We let our fear dictate how we navigate our ship rather than surrendering to the flow of the current. And then, under the emotional bearing of said current, like a piece of driftwood swirling around the spiral, we eventually get pulled under. In that moment of panic, the ocean of emotion sizes us up and like a twig, we snap under the immense pressure.

So, how do we remember to slow down? To check in with the self, with the breath, with the body? To be in alignment with all of the things we are learning, doing, feeling, incorporating, and trying to embody?

I don’t honestly have the answer. I am still learning this part. I think all of us as Earthlings signed up to embark on a mission of learning this part forever. And just like grade school, we are all doing so at different energetic levels.

Often I can anchor to myself, my true self ; the heart’s painted version of me. When I do I try to close my eyes and breathe. To take a moment and step away. To be responsive and constructive, rather than the opposite. And more times than not, I still fail. My ego flails ups like a dragon; living within me waiting to shoot its fire. My current too strong; that ocean of emotion transforms me into something new entirely.

But what I can take hope in is that each time I am met with adversity or conflict, I keep trying to use what I know. That with every failure I’m drawing closer to success and that sometimes, my feelings of failure are dissolved by my ability to quickly snap back. To realize that I’m in ceremony and that I can choose differently now.

All we can do is try; try to let our spirit shine through our physical vessel while honoring what it means to have human experience. Compassionate self accountability might be a fraction of the answer. The awareness that prompted me to write this. The knowing that I am enough and I can still do better. The all of it, really. Who here knows? Many may have a good idea, plenty of good moments, great advice, and much clarity around all that we’re seeking to be. Many may at moments embody the essence or give the gift of their idea on how to be one with “that thing”. But at a moments notice our human nature will inevitably creep in and we will come again into that feeling of self disappointment, of shame, of guilt. I hope when we do, no matter what season of our journey that we’re in, that we will choose grace - emanating an essence of goodwill and genuine courtesy. I hope that we can do this all the while picking our heads up, tipping our chin forward, and gazing with love toward the heights of our true spiritual potential.

You do enough. You have enough. You are enough. I love you and I’m rooting for you.

There is a spiritual teaching I’ve heard many times that says we choose to come to Earth in agreement of living out a particular purpose or path. It’s as if our time on this planet is something like a “cosmic treasure hunt”, leading us on a journey to discovering exactly who we were born to be. This teaching has always felt true to me. That life is a remembering of something so embedded in your soul that every twist and turn is guiding you there. Destiny is a destination on a journey of one million possible odds, all leading to one singular outcome. Maybe I was a philosopher in a previous life, but there has always been something so fascinating to me about the concept of “remembering who you are.”

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I decided that I would start a new tradition with myself. I would simply start to “map out” my garden on New Year’s Day. I would take the first quarter of the year to “browse” through the catalogs and highlight the seeds I wanted to plant later. I would then “draw” a blueprint of what my garden would look like; what I would plant and where. And then, when the temperatures started to rise, the rain to fall, and the soil to soften only then, would I begin to actively work in my garden. As I write this to you, I can see my son running through the front yard. He is wearing only a diaper and the beautiful blonde curls atop his head. He is at one with the nature around us, his feet in the soil and his head in the clouds. He has been my biggest teacher in the application of this way of life.

March is my New Year now. Spring Equinox is the balance of lightness and dark, being the day of equilibrium between night and day each year. It signifies the return of the season of blooming and when we look around, we see this reflected in our reality. As you read the poem below, use it as a meditative moment to take in your surroundings. See the greenery returning to the world. Hear the birds singing as they return home from their migrations. Feel the sunshine on your face and the breeze on your skin. It is in the embrace of nature that we touch the thread of Oneness, becoming closer to all that is.

You are enough. You have enough. You do enough.

I love you and I’m rooting for you.

Shonna

An Ode to Joy

I am the Sun. The warmth on my face and the buzz in my being are created by an internal furnace in my heart. When I connect to joy, I come closer to the true essence of life. To be here and enjoy, be in joy, and to actively choose joy; to remember the embers of the heart set fire by the life force of the sacred sun.

Amidst the constant tug to be worried, stressed, annoyed, unworthy, unsatisfied or in some other way terribly bogged down by feelings that weigh a thousand pounds - choosing joy is a superpower. Each day that you choose to hold onto that tiny seed, dig deep down, plant it into the soil, water and nurture it - you fine tune a practice for a brighter future and offer a promise to the present.

In your daily action of choosing to feed the seed of joy, a tall and wild sunflower is sure to bloom. And over time you will see that both the blooming flower and her ray of life, the Sun itself, are you.

In motherhood and family management, I learned quickly how much of a necessity organization would be to me early on. I spent a lot of time creating systems before my babies got here that would support me in postpartum. During my first pregnancy, I was met often with the expectations of how the women around me did pregnancy and childbirth. It became, albeit very diplomatic, clapback season. I started to find creative ways to politely tell people to buzz off. For the majority of my adult life, I had been the black sheep. I had no problem doing what I wanted and being who I wanted at every turn, often to the discomfort of others. This season of my life was no different and I was not about to have people telling me how to live it.

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Our society has it all wrong. There is nothing lazy about wanting to be at home with your child. There is nothing lazy about tending to your home. You are not a freeloader if you desire take a year off of work to care for your baby. You are not a freeloader if motherhood or home making becomes your job. You are not advantageous for wanting a partner who is able to provide emotional support. Nor are you advantageous for wanting a partner to provide support in the household if you are the primary financial provider who chooses to keep working. There is nothing lazy about wanting a partner who respects the sacrifice of your previous identity and your physical body in birth and beyond to raise the family they are asking for.

In fact, the US is one of the only developed countries who doesn’t support child-rearing at a government mandated level. With countries like Korea having subsidized postnatal care facilities and several EU countries offering a year or more of paid leave. We also don’t view birth as a sacred container for mother to heal and bond with this new being, reflecting practices like la cuarentena in South America or “zuo yue zi” in China. In this debate, America is the minority. Here, you might get 6 weeks paid maternity leave, but even that is unlikely. The statistics show that 70% of American mothers will return to work at 2-3 weeks postpartum, because they don’t have a choice. I am writing this to you at three weeks postpartum - I’m still wearing a diaper. These are the considerations of a mother to be in America. Look around at all you are providing as a mother, it is not a small feat.

Seeking a partner who holds you in this container, even if only for a season to embody all of the change and transformation that motherhood is - is an intention every woman should set. These concepts are conversations every couple should have before children, especially after seeing how many of those comments attacked the woman for desiring this in motherhood. It saddens me that we live in a society where so many people are desensitized to motherhood and all that it entails. It saddens me that because of this harsh criticism, women won’t speak their truth about the whole of what mothering is. To all of the providers, honoring and holding these women up in their journey - in every way that you are I see you too. We collectively say thank you for seeing the value in what a mother brings to the table.

Becoming a mother is 40 weeks and a lifetime of contorting to meet your child’s needs. Your organs shift, your joints expand, you grow an entire new organ to support the whole human that is growing within you. You are physiologically wired to be the default caregiver. Once that human arrives, you endure the trauma of childbirth. And even if it is your ideal birth experience, your baby rips you open or is cut from you. Overnight, you go from one human to two. You are your baby’s home and their lifeline. Your skin, your smell, and your voice trigger a hormonal response in your child. They illicit the same in you. Each of you is connected to the other. If you are breastfeeding, your body is working double time to heal and to sustain a life. Your brain chemistry changes, your hormones are erratic and this change maintains for at least two years. And that is just the first two years. As a new mom, I can’t speak on anymore than that. But what I can already feel in myself and see in so many mothers I know is how many of the changes you endure in your spirit will maintain for a lifetime.

I have been sincerely blessed with a man who not only provides, but loves to provide for his family. This is not to say our transition into parenthood has been easy. It’s been really difficult at times for both of us. Still, I can be grateful for how this support has allowed me to explore myself, especially in ways that he doesn’t quite understand. In moments, it has been a physical and emotional struggle being such a career focused, free spirited woman. But being a mother is now who I am, along side what I do for work. It is all encompassing, down to a biological level. I have yelled, screamed, cried, and mourned - feeling so lost at some points in this journey; cracking open to understanding who I am now. He often can’t understand the whole of it or see me either, but he has chosen to love me anyway.

Because of his commitment to providing, I was able to stay home with our son for a year while continuing to manage my business and teach workshops part time - because I love to. I’m now doing the same with our daughter. He’s made sure I nourish myself on the days that I forget, making breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. He has been willing to provide beyond just the financial, sharing in household tasks from dishes to laundry. Even in the moments of friction, he has called friends to try to understand me more deeply, having hours of conversation to try and understand my needs. He has said more than once “you are doing a good job” or “we appreciate your sacrifice” - even if he may not grasp the whole of that sacrifice. He is the truest form of a provider to me, even in the moments where we are two stars in different constellations. To provide is defined as “to equip or supply someone with something useful or necessary”. My husband has provided me with grace and freedom on a journey to self exploration to deeper my inner standing of who I am becoming. I wish this kind of partnership for every woman in the world.

You do enough. You have enough. You are enough. I love you & I’m rooting for you.

Shonna

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But the brevity doesn’t shrink the necessity.

It’s definitely cliche to say that “you can’t pour from an empty cup” AND it’s also the truth.

I know I’m not the one who’s tried. In motherhood and in the general flow of an active life, we often base our worthiness of self care on our productivity. Have we done enough? Do we have enough? Are we, in our own being, enough? The answer is not a simple yes, but a roaring one. This mantra in fact has been guiding my life over these early few weeks postpartum; “I do enough. I have enough. I am enough.” What does really it mean to be enough? It is akin to being “sacred”, which in one light is simply defined as being regarded with reverence or respect. So really, the burning question when it comes to self care is “do I respect myself enough to make this way of life a priority?”

If you don’t affirm this to yourself and make the action plan to show up for your own nurturing, you are setting the example that the act of caring about your needs and replenishment must be earned. Or perhaps that it can never be earned, because it is not a necessity backed by scientific research to help you feel more happy, healthy, and whole. It’s viewed and treated simply as a luxury. I’m not talking about mani-pedis and brunch with the girlies. I am talking about a deep, ritualistic practice that encompasses layers from physical movement to introspection. Self care in this way is essential for survival. When we model this, we become the example for others to do the same. This includes any tiny eyes that are constantly on you. If you’re at all like I used to be before my children made me view my actions through a new lens, then maybe it’s time to try something different.

What might happen if you really took this self care thing for a whirl? The worst that can happen is nothing changes. And best case scenario, the load lightens a little because you can manage it better. The only person who can actually make the choice to find out is YOU.

So, now that you have my piece-mealed definition of “sacred moment”, it’s time for you to start creating some.

I’ll be starting to host donation based weekly livestreams Thursday mornings on Insight Timer. These workshops will aim to give you a blueprint of how to carve out these windows of time in your busy life, especially for my mamas. You can register for the first one here.

Until then, here’s some ideas that you can do with or without your littles:

✨ Go for a walk in nature.

✨Write & recite three things you’re grateful for.

✨Put on a power song & bust a move.

You do enough. You have enough. You are enough.

I love you and I’m rooting for you.

Shonna

I want my daughter to grow up in a world where she sees other women as a source of safety and love - not competition, not envy, not criticism, not animosity.

It took me a long time to find this for myself. And it took me an even longer time to stop perpetuating the behaviors that cause discontentment between my alignment and that of other women. When we are honest with ourself about the “sister wound”, we learn to take accountability for the ways that we have harmed ourselves and harmed other women. We can see that our own victimization is sometimes a karmic repercussion of how we have treated other women throughout our journey, even through secondhand behavior.

This internal honesty and self integrity allows us to sit with the shame of our actions, the hurt of the women from which we’ve received this treatment, and send our cosmic apologies to the women we have hurt. While we may not be forgiven we can finally begin to forgive ourselves. We can make space to embrace acceptance for all parts of ourselves and to step into healing from a place of self understanding with unconditional love. It allows us to be freed from the need to gossip, to silently judge, to envy, and to ruminate. It allows us to be conscious of how we think, speak, and act about other women. It allows us a gentle ascent into the return of the village way - an ancestral gift by which we return to our roots, raising the collective and holding one another in community. It allows us to feel worthy of the things we silently hope for ourselves instead of being resentful when another woman appears to have them.

I know that at a certain point I won’t be able to protect my daughter or myself from the harshness of the world around us. This understanding is what prompted me to be realistic in how I create that vision within in the corner of my own reality. If I can set up a foundation of security within her to know what true sisterhood looks like, how to navigate dissonance with women who don’t yet vibrate at that understanding, and to always strive for those types of soul deep sister connections - I am doing good work. I am doing even better work if I can share this mission with other women.

In mothering my daughter, I want to mother the daughter in all of us. I will never be able to go backwards and unhurt the women who have been affected by my choices. But I can transmute my own pain and I can always choose to be better. I will do my best to make sure every women in this community has a space to be held, loved, and protected through her healing journey of self discovery. Even for those who don’t identify as women, I have a vision of a safe haven and opportunity to explore what our realities can be if we all allow ourselves to be embraced by the Divine Feminine rather than shut off to her creative magic, sensuality, soft nurturing, and deep vulnerability. This is the deep work. The de-conditioning. The return to oneness. The harmonizing of the collective. This is my vision behind the physical space, Shakti House OKC and this is my vision for this corner of the internet.

In this dwelling, we honor the natural rhythm and flow of our divine journey. We honor the necessity of self care for survival and for self discovery. We honor each other as kin in kindness. And we soften against the rigidness of our societal cultrure into the womb of deep worthiness. This is where I am choosing to live and to blossom into the version I’m meant to be. And I want you to know that you can too - welcome home.