June 14, 2017

It’s just for you

I firmly believe there is a space within all of us that’s just for us.

I believe we’re all vessels waiting to be filled. Filled with love, with patience, life, with creation and with passion. But for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever, I’m realizing that what I’m filled with doesn’t always need to be shared.

You know I’m a talker, I’m also a writer but in my personal relationships, I am most definitely a talker. I find it therapeutic and cathartic. I find talking through things in order to move through them really helpful. But what about in those moments where your dreams and your creativity aren’t met in the same way when you share them. Does it mean you should shove them down and just hover waiting until they are? I’ve done that, and it didn’t feel great. So I turned to a few people I trust, and I shared what I’m thinking about deep down and their wisdom was so perfect for me right now.

Instead of not thinking about it, instead of filling myself with other things to distract myself from the true nature of what I want to do in this moment, I opened myself up to MY OWN SELF.

I created a vessel in my own body ( you might even think of this as the womb ) and I am filling it with every possible thing that’s on my mind. I’m filling it with creation, with babies, with inspiration, with new workshops, with future dinners, with real life space and with visions of the goodness to come. It took me some time to realize the power of what this manifestation can do. When you hold space for yourself in your own body you build momentum. You build confidence and trust until you quite literally start bursting at the seams. What I think is even more amazing is that if you can allow this love to grow within, surely when it’s ready, it will start to flow out of you. And then maybe at that point the people around you will start to feel it. They’ll start to trust it and find that space within themselves that allows them to believe.

Believe that by trusting in our own selves we become more conscious, more present, more in awe of our own selves. We aren’t perfect but we do fall in love a little deeper, a little stronger and recognize (again) that we are very much capable of making magic.

eating / home made spinach crepes

drinking / cold Nettle tea that I foraged here!

choosing / to get things done when they come into my head

learning / a lot about myself through really amazing therapy

reminding / myself to laugh. to be spontaneous, show love, give love and express myself.

listening to / Shakey Graves and this for fun – PATA PATA 

finishing / dancing with Agatha before I finish writing this

reading / Book 4 of Little House on the Prairie series. I literally can’t hide how much I’ve loved reading these books – teenage magic I swear.

exploring / the forest a few blocks from our house with Aggie and another tiny human her age, Hudson

wearing / a simple uniform – I decided enough with the not getting dressed the way I dream of each day. I’m choosing to let myself feel good every day, I’ve got staples and I’m wearing them!

cooking / all the recipes out of the Green Kitchen At Home cookbook

working /  with new clients

wishing / we had a wild green field and forest outside our back door ( yes, I still dream of this on a regular basis )

craving / a lake swim and a bonfire under the stars – we’re headed up north this weekend and I can hardly wait

feeling / thankful to my own self for consistently showing up to dig deeper and heal myself on so many levels

1 Comment

  • Vicki says:

    Val, Val, Val. This piece is medicine. Thank you. Yesterday I published a piece (on Rebelle Society) that came from the truest part of me and nobody read it. Lol. I mean, lots of people read it but none of my friends did. No “likes,” no comments, no shares. I fell into this deep pit of, “what’s the point?” What’s the point of cracking myself open and singing the song of my soul if nobody I care about cares? If it isn’t received with the same kind of love it was created with? And then, in the wilderness of my own heart, I remembered that it doesn’t matter AT ALL. It doesn’t. If the art fills ME and grows ME and heals ME, then the cracking open is worth it. It’s beyond worth it. It’s not about the sharing (although sharing does feel good), it’s more about the creation itself. I wrote these words on a piece of paper and placed them by my bed: “The process is the poem.” And, it is. It is. It is. Much love to you and all of your secret and not-so-secret longings and fillings. You are luminous.

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