Today :

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I release you.

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I expect nothing from you.

I will commit to witnessing my heart. Practicing gratitude whenever I am fortunate enough to remember.

I let go of needing to muscle through, with clenched hands. Instead, I move with generosity, fluidity, and grace. Knowing that everything will get done when it truly needs to.

I am divinely guided. I loosen my grip.

I smile kindly when I catch myself tighten. I make myself a cup of tea and sit with me, my fear, anxiety, shame, and whatever else feels like it needs to surface.

As I sit and I see this part of me, and remind it : you don’t need to work quite so hard. Space is good and quiet is truth telling.

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Again, and again

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Dear Leah,

I forgive you for all the times you forget.

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For all the times you truly believe you are less than : because you are not as organized as you wish, punctual as is expected, as you watch your time evaporate – stressed about all the seemingly important things that are left untended to.

I forgive you for living in your mind, when you know it’s better to stay in the heart. I forgive you for all the judgements you place on your exterior, your interior, your enviornment – rather than seeing it as a reflection, an invitation to go deeper.

I forgive you for forgetting all that you already know.

And I celebrate your capacity to continue to soften, and ask the heart what it needs, again and again.

Love,

Leah

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The Passage Of Time

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I feel as a veil has lifted.

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After months of struggling with post partum depression, and openly sharing about it the other week – I feel a bit lighter, more myself. Writing about it as been freeing. Thank you for your responses. Receiving your words made me feel like I’m not the only one. Something I needed to be reminded of.

Being seen is healing, even though it seems easier to hide.

I have gathered a lot of help and support, and I wonder why I believed for so long that I had to do it all on my own, overwhelmed and alone.

Now I feel again like me, and not alone. Maybe this feeling will stick, or perhaps I will dissolve again into the depths of motherhood. Perhaps it will be a bit of both. I know this pattern well. Feeling stitched back together, only to unravel again.

Maybe it is a pattern of growth.  Maybe I won’t unravel completely every time.  Maybe I will make it a point to stay closer to my heart, and be so kind and compassionate to myself, even when I fall short of my continuously high expectations.

I’ll be here finding myself, and what makes my heart sing, again and again. With two little ones by my feet demanding my attention, as I continue to demand my own.

 

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Sitting with Postpartum Depression

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It’s hard to admit that I am struggling with postpartum depression, because it seems like a failure in many regards, even though logically I know it’s not.

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It feels terrible that I am saddest when I am alone with my kids, but it’s the truth most of the time.

Often I don’t feel like myself, I just feel heavy.

Thankfully, I’m not in that space the entirety of the day. When I am making, expressing, connecting, moving, teaching, writing – things are exponentially better. But the pain comes in when I feel like I have no time to tend to my heart and everyone’s needs must be met before my own.

It took a while to come to terms that I was depressed. I just figured things were hard, and that’s how they are with two small children. I remained in the doing and overcoming. I would get really low, and eventually climb back up to myself. Once I felt OK, I was certain the hard stuff was behind me… until I went through that same exhausting cycle a week or two later.

Then I got shingles, and I slowly realized the amount of stress I was under for my body to surrender and say : something has to change.

Our pediatrician suggested I talk to a therapist, I reluctantly listened. Once I found out I was depressed I immediately tried to overcome it. I wanted to put it behind me and feel whole again, complete, put back together.

Now, I’ve softened enough to just sit with it, even though I feel like pieces of me are scattered upon the kitchen floor and I can’t for the life of me find the time or the energy to place them back together. It’s hard.

I continuously have to recall : It’s not my fault.

And I’m trusting it is a door into something deeper, a crying out for deep compassion + forgiveness.

I am constantly lighting candles as I ask for help + guidance from beyond. I’m writing in the name of healing. I’m fiercely creating to calm my heart. I’ve asked for more support, and have graciously received it. When I’m focused on the light I can feel + notice my prayers being answered. \

The trick for me, right now, is returning to the light.

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Recalibrate

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Last week I turned 31.

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On the eve of my birthday I sat on the dock, in front of an almost full moon, with a bucket of empty clam shells. I threw one shell at a time back into the water as I claimed a wish out loud. I wished for courage, for love, for nourishment, for support, for beauty, for creativity, for a thriving community, for presence, for lightness, for peace, and perhaps most importantly : for a deep belief in myself, so I can truly be free.

I am upgrading a thought of unworthiness that has lingered alongside everything I do, for seemingly ever. I feel it almost as a shrunken sweater that I am no longer able to wear, no matter how many times I still want to put it on. It’s comfortable, it is what I know – but it is wearing on me.

It reeks of comparison.

I’m ready for the next installment, the next phase, the space where I own what I do and who I am, where I am, and all that I am not. I realize this isn’t black and white : completely not believing and then believing. But I am committed to the practice. To witnessing and catching myself when I want to shrink, or have already shrunk, and then tenderly tending to the embers within my heart.

I wish this for you too, a REAL belief in yourself + your worth. But perhaps you already know how deeply valued and cherished you are. I hope you do.

If not…

I think ritual helps.

I think writing helps.

I think the awareness, or even before the awareness – the openness to be aware helps to witness what is.

I think compassion is essential, for all the darkness that comes to light : may it feel welcome and seen.

It is my wish that this sliver of my life supports you in soaring, and upgrading the thoughts that are wildly pulling you down. Grabbing your ankles, not wanting you to move forward – all the while you know precisely where you are to land. And so you move swiftly + gracefully, your heart leading the way.

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