My life is a journey of discovery. Sometimes the roads I travel are easy and the terrain gentle. Other times, the route may twist and wind and the way may feel rocky and rough. 

With my eyes and ears open, any journey can be one of discovery. When I am alert and aware, the world becomes bigger and more exciting. With my mind and heart open, my spiritual journey is also one of discovery. Sometimes I must navigate the challenging path of doubt before I can turn onto the smoother path of faith and joy.

-Daily Word, 6/11/24

woman walking along a road in the desert

Like many of my recent posts, this one is repurposed from my weekly newsletter.

Side note: If you like this post and would like to receive this kind of content via email, you can subscribe to my weekly newsletter here.

Theme: Honoring our bodies

My body’s changing. My cycles have gotten really weird (thank you, perimenopause!), I have developed a very painful and limiting condition known as frozen shoulder (again!), and my daily sleep needs have increased substantially.

None of this is surprising, as I’m turning 48 this month. And interestingly enough, none of it really feels like a drag.

From mother to crone.

As much as I’ve come to appreciate my monthly bleed, I’m enjoying the gradual transition from mother to crone. In a culture that worships youth, this may seem odd, and it certainly hasn’t always been my experience. 

But when I see a weathered-but-wise elder woman who radiates confidence and whose eyes twinkle with a subdued playfulness, there’s a yearning deep within my bones to grow into that woman.

I no longer want to erase the fine (or maybe not-so-fine) lines, the grey hairs that seem to multiply overnight, or the belly fat. I am at peace with my body as it is. 

[In full transparency, it would delight me if my under eye bags packed up and left, but I’ve even begun to accept them.]

I honor my body’s transition from mother to crone by embracing her changes and seeing the beauty and wisdom in those who’ve come before me.

On pain.

I’ve had frozen shoulder before – in my other shoulder – a few years back. It came on in what I am 100% convinced was a psychosomatic response to my corporate job, and it took maybe six months for the pain to subside and another six months for me to regain 90-95% of my range of motion. 

Round 2 came on in April, so I’m assuming that I’ll have another four months of pain ahead of me. The pain is debilitating and grows and radiates down my arm…and neither OTC pain killers nor steroid injections have helped in the past. But the waves of pain only last for a minute or two, thankfully. 

Perhaps most challenging for me right now is that it’s very difficult (and painful) to wash my hair or even my pits, get dressed, and find a comfortable sleeping position.

And yet, I’m not really struggling with it. I’ve accepted that it is what it is; that fighting it would be frustrating and useless.

I’m at peace with it, and whenever the pain comes on (and after doubling over with a few choice words!) I simply remind myself that this, too, shall pass. And it does.

I honor my body’s transition from pain-free and flexible to their opposites by accepting it and by remembering that life happens for me rather than to me.*

*For example, this pain has reminded me that I haven’t nourished my physicality enough. And so, I’ve begun to move my body regularly, focus on joint mobility, and address my remaining less-than-healthy eating habits.

On sleep.

This is where I struggle the most. I want to read until 10pm and I also want to get up at 5am. I used to do that – while drinking a bottle of wine at night! – all the time, but my body no longer tolerates it.

I am learning that 9:15 is when my body wants to go to bed, and that while it will sometimes happily wake up on its own when the sun rises, it tends to want to rise at around 6.

Yesterday, I woke up at 5 and was dog-tired all day. Today I woke up at 5:30 and I’m still really struggling. Going to be earlier than 9:15 doesn’t work for me, so tomorrow I’ll be getting up at 6.

This means that I’ll need to revise my morning ritual. And so, I looked at which elements of it were essential. For example, meditation is essential, but yin yoga is not. This is truly hard for me, as I love my morning solitude in all its forms. But I honor my body best by giving it the rest it needs, and so I shall give it the rest that it needs.

[Side note: I’ve heard Tony Robbins say: “I can sleep when I’m dead,” and frankly I think that’s a load of BS for most women. Tony also happens to have a hormonal condition that most of us don’t have, plus he’s a man who receives a shit ton of support that most of us don’t have access to.]

The takeaway.

I hope that this email wasn’t too rambling about me and that you’ve perhaps identified a parallel or two in your own life.

What is your body communicating to you?

What does it look like to honor your body?

What would it take for you to honor your body if you currently aren’t?

On Wayfinding.

One of the things that’s instrumental to Wayfinding/Wayfinder coaching is that we listen to the wisdom of our bodies. Our bodies are powerful compasses that – if we tune into them – can tell us what decisions (on any conceivable life circumstance) are aligned with who we truly are.

Wayfinding has been a godsend to so many people who have gone through difficult life transitions: divorce, job loss, financial hardships, and so much more. 

I’ve been Wayfinding before I’d ever heard of the term or taken any coaching trainings, and so I can attest to its power to doing it solo. But working with a Wayfinder coach (okay, more than one!) has accelerated both the internal and external shifts I’ve made in my life. 

Since working with a Wayfinder coach, I’ve been sober for 1.5 years, cleaned up my diet (with a 15(ish)-pound weight loss as a side effect), improved my relationship with my partner, quit a toxic corporate job, stuck to a budget and paid off more than $20k of debt in the past year alone (all while paying for a a third of my daughter’s college costs and earning under 6-figures), and created a community of sisters. 

If you’re struggling with an area of your life and Wayfinding speaks to you, I’m offering 100 complimentary 90-minute Wayfinder coaching conversations to 100 different people over the next 100(ish) days [this offer is valid through the summer of 2024.] There’s no sales pitch or pressure to become a client; we’re just going to Wayfind.

And it’s available to anyone: YOU, former clients, all genders of humans, your sister’s-bestie’s-boyfriend.

Schedule your complimentary Wayfinding conversation here.

That is all.