Sacred self care rituals

Sometimes Life has to throw a few obstacles in our way to get us headed on the right path.

For years I struggled to prioritize my self care. Though I longed for an early morning yoga practice, I also believed that this kind of “indulgence” was “just not possible.” As long as I was expected to care for others, I told myself, my needs and desires would have to come last.

It took a pulled knee muscle that evolved into a locked hip and lower back - and an incredible amount of pain - before I realized I had to start putting my own needs first or I wouldn't be able to care for anyone!

The day after I visited the chiropractor, I woke up before anyone else and hobbled over to a spot on my bedroom floor. I did the few exercises she gave me. It felt so good to move my body in this way. So I added in some gentle stretches and yoga poses I remembered from one of my favourite yoga videos.

It felt amazing. I ended by setting an intention for my day, and left my spot on the rug feeling profoundly calm, centered, energized and so much better.

The next day I did it all again. And the next day. And the next.

This practice took less than 10 minutes out of my day - which is all I typically had before my 2-year old would wake up. If he happened to sleep in, though, I'd drink up every ounce of extra time I could, savoring an extra neck roll, forward bend or Child’s Pose.

I cherished that early morning solitude. The peace and quiet. The ease. No one demanding anything from me. Just me and my body, spending some quality time together, rekindling the relationship we used to have when I did yoga all those years ago.

I don't even have to be fully awake to do this practice. Some days I literally roll out of bed and do the exercises with my eyes closed, easing myself into the waking world. I always leave feeling energized, centered and ready to take on anything.

Since that first day more than two years ago, I've come back to this practice again and again.

It's what I now lovingly refer to as My Sacred Practice.

I call it sacred because it truly is. It feels so special, so blissful, so rewarding, and it works every single time, giving me near magical powers whenever I feel depleted, anxious or overwhelmed.

When life gets challenging, full or chaotic, sacred practices like this are our anchor, our touchstone. They don't have to be fancy or time-consuming. Short, simple moments in our day - done intentionally - have the power to replenish us and give us the energy, strength, resources and wisdom we need to face what’s in our path, and show up better for others.

What routines do you have in your life? What rituals would you like to start? How can you make these feel sacred so they become a source of power for you?

Wishing you could get away?

So... September's here.

We're about to head into the next phase of this giant social experiment called How To Live Life In A Pandemic.

Like you, I'm anxious about how this will all play out.

Like you, I'm frustrated at the continued restrictions on my ability to be in the world and connect with others.

Like you, I'm overwhelmed by the decisions I have to make when there are so many unknowns, complications and what ifs.

In the midst of all this heightened uncertainty, though, I've come to know a place I can visit whenever I need relief from the anxiety, frustration and overwhelm - and countless other emotions.

My kids and I have named this place Calm Island.

A few months ago we set up a Calming Corner in our living room: some beanbag chairs, posters and sensory items. I was recently saying to my oldest that I wanted a rug to anchor the space, so it would feel like its own island. We laughed at the image of swimming wildly away from the source of our anger to get to Calm Island.

But the truth is, we don't need a rug or corner of our living room to go there. This magical Island can exist wherever and whenever we need it.

For example, you can create Calm Island on your bedroom floor in the wee hours of the morning when you can't sleep. You can create it in the car after a particularly stressful day at work. Or, you can create it in the bathroom if that's the only place to temporarily escape shrieking, wild children. You can create it wherever you find momentary solitude and safety.

Another beautiful thing is you don't need to pack anything to visit Calm Island. Sure, you could take a cozy blanket and cup of tea. Or earbuds and some relaxing music. But you may find the most enriching visits are the ones where you just show up as you are.

To settle into Calm Island, simply pause what you're doing, close your eyes and breathe deeply for as long as you need. If it helps, you can imagine your tension washing away with each exhale. Or, you can let out whatever emotions need to be released - without judgment or attempt to fix them. Keep breathing and releasing, and you'll notice yourself feeling more calm, centered and in control.

And there you have it. Your own self-made island getaway. May you visit often!

P.S. As our children enter into this Brave New World of learning, it's going to be critical for parents and caregivers to create emotional safety for our kids. Creating Calm Islands with our kids is one way we can do that. If you'd like to explore other ways, message me and we can chat!

The Island that inspired it all.

The powerful pause

“Practice the pause.
Pause before judging.
Pause before assuming.
Pause before accusing.
Pause whenever you’re about to react harshly, and you’ll avoid doing and saying things you will later regret.”

— Lori Deschene

This quote really resonated with me, as this past week I noticed I was rather impatient with my family. A lot of it was when they weren't listening to me or supporting me in the ways I needed. Nevertheless, I found I was letting those old “tapes” of I Don't Matter play again.

There was at least one interaction per day where a pause would have done a lot of good. 

Instead, I jumped to conclusions, assigned blame, blew up or stomped off.

Not my finest moments.

I'd be left feeling guilty and ashamed about how things transpired. I want to be a star model of patience, calm and understanding for my family, but as with all things, it's a work in progress. 

Recently, I had an Aha moment about The Pause.

Pausing is both an act of self-care and an expression of unconditional love.

In the pause, we create distance from the Stories we tell ourselves, eg. No one ever listens to me/I'm not worth listening to - and move closer to the Truth: eg. I matter, I'm loved. And right now this person simply has a different set of priorities than me.

In the pause, we connect to our internal Nurturing Parent, who can lovingly guide us to the best version of ourselves.

In the pause, we can “see” the goodness and humanity in the other person, and we can tap into our wisdom of how to interact with them in a way that honours that.

In the pause, we can access our innate power to choose a response from a place of connection and love rather than separation and fear.

And all this can happen in the span of a few seconds or minutes! Wow.

That's powerful stuff.

So, if you also feel you’d benefit from bringing more patience, calm and understanding into your interactions, I’m going to propose we experiment with a new practice.

Whenever we are “triggered” and can feel that familiar rise of emotion, let's think of it as a signal... to Stop, Breathe and Choose the path of love and connection.

What do you say... Will you join me in practicing the Pause?

The greatest gift you’ll ever give yourself.

We all know, deep down, that the best gift we can ever give another person is our full presence.

Spending time with a person, listening deeply with empathy and a desire to "see" them, holding space without judgment for what they're experiencing... All of this lets a person know they are important and valued.

It's what we all long for. To be witnessed. To be heard. To know we matter. To feel loved for who we are right now.

Whether we realize it or not, every single one of us is searching for this gift all the time. We look for it, hope for it and expect it from our partners, our kids, our friends, our colleagues. We wish these people would give us this gift of witnessing, understanding, acceptance and unconditional love.

If we're lucky, we may have found a few people in our lives who can provide this to us on occasion. But more often than not, the people in our life don't deliver and we feel hurt.

The hard fact is, we can't rely on any person to consistently give us the emotional support we need exactly when we need it.

But we can.

The greatest act of self-care and love we will ever give ourselves is the gift of our own full presence.

How do we do that? you might wonder. How exactly do I "spend time" witnessing myself, listening deeply and holding space?

We start by taking a pause from what we’re doing, finding a spot where we won't be disturbed, and turning inward.

Doing this creates a safe space where we can "hear" what's on our minds - what's making us feel anxious or upset. We can ask ourselves what's important about this, and what we believe this means about who we are.

We can also notice how we're feeling and can let ourselves experience all of it - without judging ourselves as being right or wrong to have those feelings.

We can ask ourselves what we need to feel safe, loved, listened to and valued going forward. For example, do we need to make a boundary clearer with someone? Do we need to make time to rest or play more? Whatever is needed, we can commit to making that happen.

When we show up for ourselves in this way, we send the message to ourselves that we matter, that we're worthy of love.

If we commit to regularly spending one-on-one time with ourselves, filling our own buckets with the love and attention we crave, we won't be so dependent on getting it from others.

Which means we can focus our time and energy on bringing more of our full presence to others, and living in a way that brings meaning and joy to ourselves.

It's the gift that keeps on giving. 🙂

Moving from surviving to thriving

I just came across a post I'd shared during the early days of the quarantine. It was a list of the routines and approaches I was relying on to get me through the days with my sanity still in tact.

This is what I wrote then of my "survival rituals":

1. Getting outside several times a day is a biggie. We often go for a family walk at the beginning and end of the day, and I spend time outside watching my kids play.

2. Starting my day sitting in stillness, journalling, or reading a good book before my family gets up.

3. Setting my expectations very, very low.

• For work, I pick just 3 things to complete over the 5 days.

• Each day, I make sure I connect with 1 person outside my family in a meaningful way.

• With my kids, I have them complete just one piece of "work" (ie. schoolwork or a chore).

My survival rituals prioritized nature, quiet contemplation, meaningful connection and simplicity - all of which are among my top values.

So perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise that in non-crisis times, every single one of these rituals contributes to my very best days, when I feel the most fulfilled, centered and alive.

It turns out that my recipe for surviving is the same for THRIVING.

What about you? What rituals felt sacred to you during the quarantine? What do they say about what's most important to you? And, what might be possible in your life if you continued them now?

Daily bike rides with family keep me nourished and energized.