Ooooommmmmm… #7

The greatest gifts in my life have come in the form of breast cancer, foreclosure, my drug and sex addicted father, who passed away when I was ten years old, my ex-husband, my children, Jake and Jonah, and their sister, Sydnee, who died two days shy of her due date.

One might smallest just breathe logoask how losing a father at a young age, getting divorced, losing a child or having cancer could possibly be considered gifts. There is no doubt that these were very challenging times in my life, but once the dust settled, and maybe even during some of the later experiences, I was able to see the gift in each and every experience in my life.

Within each of our not-so-normal lives, we are faced with challenges along the way, nobody is exempt. These challenges show up for us to help us grow. Each and every one of those experiences leaves us with a “gift”. The catch is, we don’t actually get the gift until we are aware it’s there for us. Imagine a beautifully wrapped present hiding way up high in the closet, but you don’t know it exists. It only becomes exciting when you know it’s there and you have the chance to tear it open. The good news is it’s never too late to find them, we just need to open our minds to another way of seeing things.

My hope is that through this series of dysfunctional, crazy, funny, challenging and sometimes embarrassing glances into my life, you will learn to spot the silver linings in your life, unveiling these precious gems that have the power to bring you freedom and peace of mind.

I’m going to tell you some very personal details about my life and you will likely have thoughts of judgment, maybe anger at some point, but don’t stress out, just breathe. I forgive you. Xo

Oooooommmmmm…

When I was ten years old, I vividly remember coming down the stairs to leave for the dentist office before school when my mom told us that our dad died. I don’t recall crying or even really feeling anything in particular. My dad was not exactly “present” in our lives, physically or mentally.

Despite the hippie upbringing, when my dad died we really didn’t talk about it. It was business as usual; back to school, play with friends, etc. We definitely didn’t go to therapy. It was 1975 and sweeping things under the rug seemed to be modus operandi. We did however go to TM, Transcendental Meditation, we were hippies after all. We learned how to mediate and even got our very own secret “Mantra” – a word one focuses on while meditating. To this day my siblings and I laugh about how we have never told anybody our secret mantra, joking about how we all probably have the same one. Maybe that’s only funny to us though.

While the whole “meditation thing” seemed really weird when I was ten years old, and definitely didn’t replace much needed therapy, but I am grateful today because I have a regular meditation practice that I can’t imagine living without. Meditation along with yoga keeps me sane, most of the time. It’s my happy hour, my anti-depressant, my unconditional love for me. It allows me to slow the thoughts down and choose my reactions. I notice when I don’t have time to meditate or do yoga for a while, it becomes challenging to tame the monkey mind, and I see the crazy mind coming my way; overreacting, believing the stories, making assumptions, etc.

Meditation simply makes me feel good, better than any drug I’ve taken, and I’ve taken a few in my day. My kids ask me why I don’t drink or take drugs, and the truth is because nothing makes me feel as good as yoga and meditation.

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