I spent the summers of my youth in Maine.

And before youth really, there’s a photo of me at one-year old, sitting with my pregnant mom on the lakeshore, in my teeny bathing suit and diaper.

There was a peace, a tranquility in those growing up vacation getaways - the surroundings were so quiet, bedtime was easy after long days in the water, bbq-ing and s’mores, with the quiet pine trees and a sweet smell in the air I can never forget.

The peace of the pine trees and the sweet smell showed up when I moved to Ashland Oregon in 2008. I wondered if some of it came from the lavender growing all over town, but overall I think it was the trees enveloping the town.

When I arrived in Central Oregon recently there it was - the hint of that sweet smell ! I assumed it was the pine trees … they have their eye on me 🌲 and I trust them. It isn’t just the smell, but how cozy and held I feel in their presence. I have felt compelled and comfortable to “hand off” what I may be carrying, knowing they’ll know what to do, and how to transmute what feels heavy for me at the time.

I used to walk often in Ashland’s Lithia Park with the specific intention to release to the majestic trees what I was carrying. There was a grace, a peace in knowing I wasn’t alone, that the trees were generous and could handle all my human things.

Upon landing this time in Central Oregon, and after a hint of sweet in the air, I set an intention to welcome not solely more of that sweetness in the air, but also the sweetness that would show up in present and joy-filled moments with my soul sister, and her sweetheart.

Although the moment inevitably arrived for me to depart, the days we had together were long and filled up with so much goodness, laughter, truth telling, and music-making.

Intention-setting for the win!

There were hints of a sweet smell in the air for sure, something distinct and different from where I currently reside in Colorado, yet not prominent like Maine as a youngster or from the lavender bushes of Ashland. It reminded me - Life is sweet.

Funny - this time of year is an ending, and a beginning in Jewish practice, when a new year begins. Many symbolize the intention for a good and sweet year ahead by dipping apples in honey.

Sweetness.

She asked what I wanted to do and I asked for water please !! That day we visited a local campground, lake, and a burger and beer joint. It felt like a whole summer vacation in a short roadtrip! 🌲 ☀️ 🛶

I smiled when we pulled up - the whole setting brought back my Maine memories, with great gratitude. The Northeast lake of my family vacations was actually called a pond, with no mountains near it that I can recall. But it glistened, like this one, and there were kayaks to rent, vacationers to welcome, and pine trees lovingly surrounding vacationers, and the sweet pond.

Here is a pic of East Lake in Central Oregon. Making new memories, and adding to the fabric of my childhood.

How lucky I am that happy feelings and sensations can re-emerge, reminding me of all that brings me joy, all that makes my life so sweet, a life built on countless moments and memories, one after the other, still connected and perpetually creating a sweetness beyond just what’s in the trees, flowers, air.

With great gratitude - for memory-making, sweetnesses, my soul-sister, the trusting of roots, and for all the branches 🌲

I have tried herbal tea, meditating, and even some sleep gummies. Those little gummy treats just kept me awake, and … high.

As we know, there is no fighting it. If no sleep, then do something else - reading helps, no phone usage helps. Just lie there and breathe deeply?

As my mind delivers unprocessed thoughts from the day, tragedies worldwide and deaths of icons, with a sprinkling of ick memories arising unexpectedly from my years of living, and finishing it off with my body working through some pains from exercise class, I just want to turn it all off.

It’s too much busyness for bedtime.

Nothing helped last night. Nothing. So at 1:30am I ventured outside to my porch where I gazed at the almost-full moon. I allowed the present to be present, and enjoyed the air made cooler by an earlier rainstorm. I even welcomed the bright moon to help my emotions to swell and move through me. Exhausted, but I’m still a Moon-sign.

It was so quiet outside, and so still. I felt I was given a permission slip: Go ahead and meet this moment where you are, and where it is. It’s the middle of the night, do and be you. No questions asked.

Permission was granted, and wouldn’t you know it - quiet, still, emotional and present I became. Sleep eventually followed. Hallelujah!

What I can share is that like many of us, and especially as we enter a new and a later phase of life, there are many changes - physical and emotional - while we often feel and carry sadness, regrets and griefs, along with a deeper gratitude for all the good, and intentions to become more faithful, helpful, purpose-filled.

The world spins, the mind spins. We want to narrate it, hold it, make meaning of it - the world, and our minds - yet then we’re living in the past, or worrying about what’s ahead. What we are seeking is the release, the peace and rest found in this very moment.

If we can be willing to give ourselves permission to pull back from the inner and outer chatter, the opinions we and others have of it all, in that pulling back we are creating space to witness what, and why the chatter is happening. Notice patterns, recognize behaviors that don’t serve, and how we can create an opening for peace, deep rest and gratitude. Maybe we learn to spin in a new way, along with the world and our old experiences but further away. Spin to a new song.

What if we became sleepy when we encountered our old ways, and drifted off just as we remembered we don’t need them any longer?

Things to ponder.

Today I’m practicing softening into myself, remembering the cool air in the wee hours, and resting, right here (with my eyes open) in this present moment. I welcome the wisdom that comes from a somewhat sluggish energy today, and in the spaces of quiet between my tasks, I welcome a new perspective.

Making some sweet lemonade from the tartness in tossing and turning.

If no sleep tonight, you’ll find me gazing at the bright and beautiful full moon. I’m also going to lean on her, into her - to help in my seeing and embodying a completion cycle, to receive encouragement in releasing, seen and unseen, what doesn’t serve me, and in love, and gratitude always for this journey.

I’m hopeful sleep will follow. If not I may try sheep. 123 🐑 123

It’s been so dry that the ants came marching in. First a few, then all of them. I did what I felt was right - I expressed to them, out loud, how this was my kitchen and I was giving them a warning. Exit the premises and no one will get hurt.

They did what I’m guessing they felt was right for them - They called their friends and before long, there was a party on my kitchen counters.

The grossest thing to wake up to.

Because of the dryness, the story I made up was that they were in my house looking for a sip of water. And my heart started to break. I’m all about cohabitating - This world is filled with diversity of species and peoples and ideas. But this cohabitating was not going to work for me. More and more of them were arriving by the hour, my kitchen is my kitchen, and I can’t believe I would even try and justify the sanctity of the ant life.

But this is how I’m built - I care, I’m concerned, and compassionate.

I’m learning, though, learning. One of my growing edges is around “accommodation versus abandonment.” Where am I being flexible, where am I crossing the line into abandoning myself, my own wishes, my ethics.

Somehow, this growing edge was pushing up against the ant situation. I did not want to crush their very existence, but I also did not want to prepare my dinner with a creature family crawling all over my food prep spaces. So I gave them another warning - as I was preparing to lay down the Terro ant killer just purchased from Home Depot. Again, they could exit the premises now and no one would get hurt.

Or the alternative.

Terro is a miracle to the human. You place a few drops on a piece of cardboard and soon the ants circle ‘round the drop, drink the sweet liquid, pass out for a spell, and eventually head back to the nest filled with the sweet poison, sharing it with fam somehow. Then they’re gone. Gone.

I think it may be like being drunk on Halloween candy, except…we don’t die.

I want to believe it’s not a painful death for them, but it is sinister in a way. Free sweets to get you drunk, but poisonous. And then you’re dead.

I felt terrible about it - all of it. They didn’t know their fate, but I did. As I watched them circle round the yummy pool, I knew their fate. I knew that within a few days no one would be drinking from the sweet poison pool anymore. No one would be running around the kitchen counter, or in the sink seeking a water droplet for refreshment. There would be a quiet hush over my kitchen.

I was faced with the power I had, and how I also was not abandoning myself.

F**k the ants! It’s my house, I pay the rent! It’s not my fault the summer was oppressively hot and dry, or that the apartment I rent needs updating and closing of holes where ants can enter. I’m not sorry that I don’t want little critters in my house. If there was a way to accommodate them, I’d travel that path.

In my defense I did give them several warnings.

I wonder what you’re thinking about me right now, a madwoman, pathological in her caring, an over-thinker. But since I’m growing this edge why not hold up as many experiences as I can to reflect on where I may or may not be aligned with my accommodating vs my abandoning of self?

It’s safe to say that I’ve tipped deeply on the side of self abandonment for a long time. There have been red flags - in every area of my life - for decades and my brain was trained to not see them. Compassion first, empathy first, how can I help? first.

Recalling, remembering, and relearning, and exploring how and where I can be accommodating (flexible, supportive, too) instead of relinquishing myself.

How many times did I drink the sweet poison others put out for me? Allowing my voice to be silenced, allowing myself to shrink, scurry home to my nest to “sleep it off”… forgetting myself.

How can we love and give and serve ourselves and others in new and healthy ways? Sometimes it’s saying No Period to something we don’t want to do. Sometimes it’s Maybe, let’s figure it out later, together.

And other times it’s Please Head on home or I’ll serve up a special kind of Halloween candy.

Kidding (-ish) 🐜

It’s an important role - as a Cantor you are being called to support the Rabbi of a community by leading certain prayers, as well as supporting lay leaders and sing…

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“Left it in the River” was the first of her songs I heard, and is a transparent story of the dark and the release and upliftment that comes with a water cleansing (aka Mikvah / Baptism) and - if water isn’t close by, a metaphorical renewal, one that I know is always available to us. We can name, and invite those dark parts to the table, love on them, and release.

This song has been so powerful for me in my own life journeying, and hearing it live last night, stripped down and acoustic, was one of the highlights of the KLOVE show for me.

Left it in the River (Jamie MacDonald) Red Rocks 8/4/26

Enjoy ! ! 🎶💕🎶

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Always an eager student, I wrote it down, of course.

And seeing it on the page, I got it. I got the message: one of Love’s essences is letting go: releasing into flow and freedom, being unattached to outcomes, allowing life to unfold, divinely unfolding, welcoming beings to enter, and loving them as they leave. Being aware of my humanness. Loving myself consistently. Remembering something greater.

I don’t do any of the above well when I’m hanging on, clinging, demanding, resisting. My body hurts, my mind is taxed, my heart is sad.

It’s hard, it can be hard. Letting go of a job that isn’t aligned with how your body and mind systems are built but wondering if you’ll have the cash to fill up your grocery cart in the process is real. Letting go of someone you love because you must, even when you can’t pinpoint the betterments which lie ahead, is hard. Following a call to make changes, sometimes drastic changes, connecting to your intuition, without knowing why it’s calling you, or how things will roll out is scary. Ignoring the nay sayers while you live your own life fully takes effort, and energy. We are continually creating space for learning, healing, and living a happier life in the process.

Daunting.

Let’s be clear - Love isn’t letting ME go. Love wouldn’t, or couldn’t. Love is the thing that is the thing, in all things. No beginning and no end. It’s the best experience life can offer - it is the full living of, and in life. I think Love just wants me to know that I can’t be the best and most beneficial loving presence here when I am holding on, demanding my way, not listening, or trusting, or settling into myself. I become my own bottleneck. I have often blocked my own good, joy, growth.

Life continues to happen anyhow, thankfully.

But we do become accustomed to the hold, don’t we? The patterns become unconscious and habitual, the finger blisters are now a big callus and we don’t feel the painful grip any longer.

In September 2021 I left Oregon for Colorado. Something pulled me here, like a magnet. I had a certain amount / type of freedom as my relationship was entering completion. My job was singing and I take that wherever I go:) I was craving the sun. I had some ideas about what I wanted to do, work-wise and who I wanted to spend time with and the music and art I wanted to make in Colorado. At the time I had everything “arranged” in my mind and in my schedule so it appeared like lots of little ducks were obedient in a row.

So I’m coming on five years in Colorado now and back in 2021 I could not have scripted, or imagined who I would eventually meet and the work I would be doing now. Many of the relationships I left in Oregon, including with my ex, are now deeper than I could’ve imagined. I have cherished friends now in Denver, and also, some of the relationships I envisioned flourishing here have changed, or timed out. Life is abundant, joyous, and sometimes lonely as I forge ahead. I’m letting go of what I thought my life would look like, yet I am also resting my head on lingering hopes.

That’s the thing, one of the things - just by my acknowledging where I may be holding on is opening up a new space within me, a curious place where I might sit with the present moment. Letting love show me new pathways that may be developing - allowing myself a new road, one destined to grow me in the direction of my soul’s deeper purpose. But still, releasing my hold, my need to know, my avoidance of pain.

Practice, practice.

In traveling between the two US states, I can see the ways I held a tight grip, in the transitioning - I was human, and I was anxious, controlling, angry, confused, inauthentic, in so many areas. There were times I don’t believe I was being professional in my work, either, and that’s a hard one to be recalling. But - I think for mere survival really in the midst of great changes, I did whatever was needed to keep me going. I held, and things had a hold on me.

We do the very best we can.

And today is new. I want to do it differently this time, as I travel outside into the world today with these new perspectives, and as I delve within. More inside dwelling calls me and will be helpful as I become comfortable with the not-knowings (it’s scary sometimes on the inside, the voices can be loud and like to confuse me in the chatter.) I want to live in greater state of trust, and when Love has a message for me, a poignant and pretty well-timed one like this, I’m open to receiving it deeply and - honestly, I need not hear it again.

Message received!

“When the holding on becomes more painful than the letting go” (a quote like that just popped into my head) … and, as life moves, and as I grow I imagine / know there will be lots of opportunities to want to cling, to strengthen my calluses again. Since I got the message, I’m hopeful I’ll want to let go in those moments. Letting go. Love is letting go.

But, a plea: never let go of me, Beloved, but help me to remember to let go of what I know and don’t know so that I might understand the freedom that comes in releasing myself into the beautiful unknown. Help me to remember I may be daunted and fearful as I travel but that there is no healthy and righteous alternative. The way through - is through.

Practicing.

I’m taking into this Monday fluidity and trust. I’d like to soar untethered, too. I’ve known these things, I know them. It’s all right here: “lift off” by Laura Berman 🎶

Love, I got your message and I’m your wing-woman. Will you stay mine? Take my hand? I promise, I won’t hold on too tightly.

A big part of my work is planning ahead - for example, I was booking musicians for our Sunday, July 5 services back in March. I started planning a late September personal trip to the East Coast in May, and in a few weeks my team and I will be brainstorming our December Candlelight services.

The Holidays?! Noooooooo ! :)

I get it, we are all adulting - If you want to travel, you’ve gotta make plans ahead of time, to respect the schedules of all and get an affordable seat on a plane. As an organization, we are serving our community and offering not just music and messages on a Sunday but also all kinds of events and those take thoughtful planning and scheduling. If you want to see your friends, you’ve gotta make plans. We are all busy, and desire connection.

I’ve been trying to pinpoint and describe the unnerving feelings and what’s come to me is life has felt like a very strong wind, whirlwind, and the wind is blowing me up and forward very quickly and I am untethered. That was more physical. And emotionally, there were feelings of “missing life” and fearing things that might happen in the future.

I couldn’t be more grateful to have recognized all of these speeding ahead sensations and taking some time to contemplate.

Interestingly, and almost simultaneously I have also been remembering how much I love summertime. And I’ve wanted to make this summer my “summer of fun“ - bringing my inner child and playful and innocent spirit to the summertime months, going to the movies, riding my bike, having ice cream cones, and really embodying the freedom that used to come with summertime as a kid.

I belive my soul knew that having a “summer of fun” would be an antidote for all the planning ahead that comes with my work, and life? Seems that children don’t concern themselves with schedules and planning.

My soul knows a lot more than I’ve realized.

As I’ve been imagining my summertime fun, Gratitude is emerging, too. I forgot how much I love summertime — love serving my spiritual community — I am grateful for who I am.

I suppose I’m coming into a Balancing time of life.

Discovering what you love and being grateful for it can bring us to a present and grounded place. We can’t be blown away when our roots are keeping us tethered and safe - nourishing our souls.

I wonder - When we don’t take the time to slow our inside spaces down, in whatever ways are best supportive of us, and if we are constantly meeting the world where it is, so often in its ungrounded, fearful place, then we are all just flying around untethered, aren’t we? We are letting the outside tell us how to be. Missing the moments. Forgetting our gratitudes is easy when we are going from one thing to the next without a pause.

I’m coming to understand that the antidotes (s) to the feeling (s) that time is moving so quickly is to become present. It’s a practice but so worth the practice time. But first we must understand how we are built, love how we are uniquely built, and see how / when / why we are not present. That is for each and every one of us to discover, and to discover in a loving way.

Please - let’s be kind and loving to ourselves.

For me, I started to see how I was getting anxious. I wasn’t in my body. I wasn’t taking good care of me. I made that connection to all of the planning, and feeling like life was moving so quickly…These were sign posts! “Laura, you’re not grounded.” And how to be grounded: breathe, be grateful, remember the things you love.

The news, the corroborating of stories of how bad things are, gossip, negative self talk, holding on, etc. all can be pathways to un-presencing. Yet - How wonderful it is to recognize, and then make a choice for our betterment, and for the betterment of all those around us, to make a new pathway. Not necessarily a speed raceway :) but a new and easy pathway to presence.

Creating a new pathway: I breathe into myself a few times, calming the body system and mind, and become present to right here. Sounds, sights, smells. A few moments of this throughout each day … and remembering to ask “what’s (at least) one thing I am grateful for?” The gratitude is that extra sprinkling of sweetness to this presence practice.

Then walking forward from this place.

Rinse and repeat.

It’s been a great thing to witness, from feeling blown around and frenzied, anxious and unnerved to becoming calm and grounded, lighter, joyous and excited for life - for summer, for work planning, for the unexpected good, body and mind nourishment and the slowing down, inside myself. Our lives and our world can continue to be fast and frenzied, but approaching it all from a much more grounded and peace-filled place will help me / us see more of that peace and calm outside, and attract more of that, and bring more moments of slowing down to our days.

BTW I’ve recently learned how fantastic naps are ! At “nap time” I put on the PBS News Hour and not only do I get the news, to stay informed, but it’s delivered in a slow and non-flashy manner, and then zzzzzzzz.

Like a river that rushes, we can also move quickly, forcefully, yet we are simultaneously and constantly flowing through and into the true nature of ourselves. We were made to flow. There are obstacles, but we can practice flowing over and around … and be the love of life that never ceases to give of itself, no matter what.

I am finding comfort in knowing the speed of time, and of this life is tempered by, and with my willingness to become present in this very moment. You can’t miss a thing - the love that life continuously gives - when you’re right here.

Remembering: Earth to ground us. Water to keep us flowing. Breath to presence us.

So these are some things I have realized. And it is good. Today, I’ll take my speed, so to speak, in the form of a really good cup of coffee, maybe a to-do list, and listening to birdsongs from my porch chair.

I have a pretty sizable living room with lots of light - a perfect environment for me to create art and music and great lighting for zoom-ing, and live streams, too.

Even as recent as a month ago, though, I was looking at couches and coffee tables and all sorts of living room things, because that’s what you do with a living room.

Yet - something was pushing at me, pushing through me I think. I allowed myself a slower pace as I contemplated the real and true way I want to live, and each day, living in my home and really taking the time to discern, and discover, what I’ve needed in it, and from it, and being curious how it can best serve me.

And it came to me - The living room is a studio. It’s my studio.

Btw - below is a pic of me (and my sneakers) in the midst of the switch.

I was filled with so much joy and peace in this decision, and not just because there’s a yummy newness in the air when you switch things up. But I believe the well of joy and peace was springing from the truth of me, I was realizing the truth of who I am. The inner guidance, the pace I took to discover what both I, and the space needed, and really loving and honoring how I am built, where my priorities are, these are realizations and then alignments to follow, all born through allowing my inner sacred space to speak its wisdom. Speak it - literally into a room.

Music and art and creativity are much of what makes me who I am and over the course of my life, up until now, I have set up my spaces, my life, relationships, work, and all the things, with a greater sensitivity and connection outward toward others rather than first with my sacred self.

Checking in with self is a sacred process in and of itself. It is good.

I am human, just like you, and of course, we care about others. But after a few (hundred:) times around the block, I found myself pretty tired, as I’ve shared in previous articles here.

And with a summertime birthday coming up (note Moonstone necklace!) and the days of life ticking away, something in me knew my truth and the truth that the living room wasn’t the living room.

I know now there has been a yearning from within me to deeply connect with myself and create a supportive, sacred and sweet environment, one that reflects back to me what is calling outward from within. And sure - I also can be flexible and suppose if I had a couch and a coffee table and a TV in the living room I could absolutely bring my sacred self to it and it could reflect that back to me. I do believe that the sacred is in, and is all things.

So yes, I could’ve gone with a living room in the living room, but for now, and for the sake of sharing something insightful with you all, there is living room furniture in the second bedroom. And as I walk into my home each day, the creative tools and the energy, the instruments, paper and pencils, all the things - they greet me at the door. The sacred greets the sacred.

And as always, I practice.

I digress.

I am a Jewish American woman. I do not condone American involvement in any war or regime changes or political unrest in Israel or anywhere overseas, risking the lives of American soldiers, until, and only until:

1. our administration is purged of greedy criminals

2. every child in America is fed

3. guns are finally limited and licensed

4. we all can afford food, healthcare and a place to live

5. our education system and immigration policies are refined

6. full amends and reparations are made to all those harmed by the forming of this country

7. the historic events of our country are returned to our education system and

8. we become a nation of restorative justice and prison reform, no longer one of mass incarceration.

(All of the above and more and more)

A very Jewish thing: If one suffers we all suffer. In America, we are suffering, so can we please put her first?

Now. Now please.

We can be a light and mentor for our world without giving our people, resources and money to other countries, all the while continuing to suffer here. We so often give our people, resources and money away to countries that haven’t yet themselves figured out how to care for their own peoples. It all reeks of learned-helplessness and did they ask for our help? (And war is a pocket-lining process, we all know this.)

If we, Americans can live full, peaceful and healthy lives, in theory others can, by our example. Oxygen mask here first.

Let’s try it. There is only good to be gained. Good for us here. We need some good.

I care about the well being of the children and people in my country first and — both/and — I also wish all beings on our planet peace and ease 🤍

I have left the room, my body, I left love.

The gusts are so strong sometimes that I’ve got to hold on, and hold on tight. I am being blown about, and could head toward the unfamiliar if I let go. Where will I land ? I can’t be prepared if I don’t know. I will be exposed.

I am holding on with such immense strength, I know this. I’m not allowing life to be. We all have our indicators - in our body or mind -  showing us that we are clinging. The holding on. My poor and tired hands and fingers.

I miss you, love, when I’m scattered and unsure and blown about. Why do I forget ? You are always there for me - You never left - You patiently remain with open arms. The unknown is a human feared thing. Love is the place of forever and always.

If I could trust. But - suffering. I suffer when I allow discomfort, and unhappiness to stay too long, when I don’t zoom out, to allow the goodness I see to permeate me, when I lash out in my mind (or in the world) and I find faults and make unsound decisions, when I have a sharp tongue and seem irrational to myself, and to others. I hold tightly and deliberately.

It’s not the way, the way of ease and peace and gentleness. So in this quiet moment, I am bearing witness and I begin again to understand and honor my build, and where I may be coming from, and welcoming what it is I’m growing into now.

Interesting how the push-pull with life keeps me tethered to this seeming “safety”, and I blame the world for drama and unrest, when I am perpetuating it from within myself. I chase, I cling, and I create disconnect, and dissatisfaction. Perhaps one perspective is it feels familiar, this discontent. I’m accustomed to it. Deep grooves, lots of repeats. And - If I create disruptions and drama maybe no one else will, and so I am ahead of the game (strange game) and in theory I won’t be hurt or harmed or caught unexpectedly ? When I attempt to fill all the spaces with distrust and hopelessness, everything is tangled and bunched and then I won’t be in the open space of the unknown either ?

Exhausting it is, and seemingly sadistic from this angle, these tactics that ultimately harm myself, and also - wow, look at how I am responsible for my own suffering. Making myself suffer so I will be safe.

Gratitude for growth through realizations. Thank You you love, for catching me again.

This is an unraveling, so I can see the parts of me, the seeming helpers (avoidants, drama makers, anxiety bus drivers) who have kept me in my patterns. I know they served me. They were formed for a reason, to help me manage and navigate my life. I am finding a way to love them and to let them know I will catch them now, and that they can focus on something else. Or - they can rest. Rest, sweet helpers. You’ve been working hard for a long time.

Love is good, so good. Love is the map, the teacher, the example of flow and trust. Love is the letting go, and the sweet embrace. Can I love all my parts, all my shadows, every fiber and every cell and every path that has led me to right now ? Practicing.

I feel lighter this morning. I imagine I’ll hold on and I’ll let go again and with each experience I can release my grip one more notch. I’m built for love and ease, not suffering. But still, there is suffering. Free, tethered, flowing, attached. Holding, releasing.

Human.

And love catches me. Every time.

The list of learning goes on.

If I could change the course of events - decades of life experiences really - that cracked me, and tossed me into this growth, I wouldn’t. And - I’m not gonna lie, I’m really tired. My body hurts, and I’m generally a second away from tears. But I feel as if I’ve been given a second chance, to show up for my life as a better version of me. I know now I couldn’t continue as I was.

There were signs that I needed to change, but I ignored them. Like most of us humans, there are flags on the journey… Sometimes we’re too busy to pause and take notice, sometimes we’re not busy at all and take notice and ignore them. Until - something big happens, or even something small… And we can’t bear the weight of it any longer.

For me, I have had a long history of “yes!”… Whether it’s an intimate relationship or a job or a friendship. I’m a full-on “yes” before taking even the slightest pause to discern whether or not the above are healthy for me, or serve my highest aspirations, or “have I asked the right questions?” In my defense even as a young child I never saw me as different from another, and I cared so much. So much caring for all. And as I grew from sweet and compassion tot, I created a life where I was virtually nowhere in the mix; I put everyone and everything else at the forefront. I also somehow learned to relinquish what I thought or felt, thinking others knew more about what I needed than I did.

This is not an uncommon story and for women, or at least for my women friends, this caring nature has led us to abandon. It’s societal as well I think and often generational, and sometimes just how we are built. We are caregivers who forget we are also deserving of care. This pattern then can fold into other areas of our lives and we become, well, absent.

I was speaking with a girlfriend recently on the subject of self-abandonment, and of course this pattern is different for each and every individual human, but sometimes we learn to abandon ourselves because we are somehow not worth the attention. Sometimes we learn to abandon ourselves because there does not seem to be enough room for two people’s needs to be met. Sometimes we never learn what we ourselves need because the needs of others are so much greater. And - If we don’t support others and fulfill their needs, then we’ll be abandoned, right?

Old things. From the beginning of our time here, and perhaps also from the beginnings of our family line. Even our cultural or religious tribe can be overlooked, overworked, underserved.

However and whatever the facts, it surely is good to arrive here, though. It’s not easy, this birthing of our new awareness and shedding the rest. It can feel like a dark journey of discovery, it has been one for me. But once you awaken into it, and even in the loneliness and sadness that may follow, you know in the depths of your being that the journey is for your betterment. I’ve known that.

Grief has been there, too; lots of it - grief over your years lost, focused on others and not on yourself. Grief for the life you envisioned with your person who isn’t yours. Grief for more of your life lived than what is left. For the mother I never became, for the hit songs I didn’t write, for long term savings never collected and a long term relationship never to be, an impact in the world I fear I never had. All because I was in my own way. Because my trauma and fear drove the bus. Because my needs didn’t matter. Because I didn’t know what I needed.

And — the good news I see is I am coming out on the other side now, and I feel as if I’ve been rebuilt. A much better oiled machine. There is a newness in me, like I have been recalibrated and also, lately I’ve noticed aging - a lot more gray hairs, more lines on my face, even just from a couple of years ago. Some of it is from my age, and some I think is from my journeying. Now, I give myself permission to rest; I recognize my strength, and also how the output has drained me. I see that I am stepping into Crone-dom, and with the wisdom will come a more fulfilling life, a life with pauses and discernment and delight.

My mom, who would remind me when I’d give everyone the benefit of the doubt that “Laura, sometimes people are just a-holes” has also reminded me that I am right on time. This is the age when most of us (speaking for many midlife women) have had enough: We have had enough of putting ourselves last, of trying to figure out what other people need (they can tell us!), of shying away from our power, of accepting less when we deserve more. The fire and strength from the collective awakening of us is what our world needs right now, without a doubt.

I am glad to know now that my intuition is generally spot on. And - I have learned that my positive impact on the world is greater than I’ve ever thought. Some dreams aren’t as important now, and you can’t change what has been. Life is what it is, it has become something - whether always destined for this, or not, you are here now, with what is.

I wish I had listened to my intuition, though, all the times she knew. That’s been one of the harder pills to swallow. I will never relinquish that deep trust in myself again. And, regarding motherhood, my dream now is to be a grandmother. ‘Til then, I am spreading nurturing love everywhere I go. I am saving a little bit of money each week now, building up my long term savings, and welcoming a long term relationship. I’m writing songs after a several year hiatus, and a “hit” for me is a song that moves just one person.

RE: our world

I am making a connection now to the chaos, violence and disconnectedness of humanity, and how we look over those in need, abandon our neighbors, silo. I also believe we are all operating from some kind of trauma, and unless we are willing to look at it and heal it, we just won’t. I wonder what our world would be like if each and every one of us did not abandon our ourselves, were willing to confront our inner darkness, see the flags and know they can be for our betterment, even when it’s hard to let go. I imagine we could never abandon another … we couldn’t because we have already experienced the hard consequences of abandoning ourselves, the truths of it, the difficult journey through it.

It seems that’s how it works. It starts with us.

Moving forward I’m intending to live my life starting from inside myself, and wide awake. I vow to never abandon me again and if I do, it will be a very short moment (I hope anyhow.) and I’ll be glad to learn another thing or two about myself in the process. I will never stop seeing another as whole, and perfect, despite their behaviors - just because that’s how I am built - but I won’t leave myself in the process. I am enjoying the pauses, the slowing down, the curiosity that often leads to informed answers.

I’m glad for it all, glad I know what I know, and am also okay wishing I didn’t know what I know. Love is born here, in all these wishful and glad spaces.