No Longer Longing

I'm in the middle of Venice, being a stoop kid on some steps of an old church. As I'm writing this as Im watching a group of young, lively Italians at the bar. The pigeons and seagulls are assessing us to see if anyone has food for them. A weathered pale pink brick building and a chipping-away beige building stand across the canal from me. People picked these steps seeming to seek refuge from the sun and perhaps to take it all in like me. I hear no signs of English and that delights me. I see a couple making out in the corner where the sun meets the shade. No one pays them any mind. People walk by with fans frantically waving to attempt to break the heat. The sun is starting to hit my legs but I don't dare move as this spot is alive with the energy of Italy. People meeting in the piazza freely expressing their delight in life.

Hard to believe I would be flying home today had I not extended my stay. I remind myself as I wrote this sentence, ‘You'll make the money back. You have one more week in Italy what a gift to yourself.’ A couple beside me leaves, a welcomed interruption from the anxious thoughts I work daily to contain. This couple lay silently on the steps, sharing a snack and playing gently with each other's hands. Clearly in love. The pigeons gather to eat their crumbs to clear away any remnants of them on the stoop.

Traveling alone once left me with a longing for someone to travel with me. Someone to lay silently on a step and caress my hand. This trip, however, I am perfectly content in my presence. I am in love with my existence. I don't long for anything other than being present at this very moment. I believe this is the place the universe has been pushing towards. Many failed attempts at what could be love, many sweet connections without the depth that love with me holds, and many times I wished for someone to work out for me & that disappointment to lead to understanding. I needed to be alone to reach this peace of okayness in being alone.

Okay doesn't suffice, really. I'm vibrating with joy in my existence. I trust my ability to support myself, I trust my skills to bring hope to the world. The work I've done to elevate an already high existence is showing. I know that if a new love story does come along, we will be two complete souls in our passions and energy, combining not for codependency but co-creation. I'm no longer longing. Instead, I'm living in full awareness of the blessing of being in every moment. Of course, this one in particular is pretty spectacular.  

A new group of vivacious twentysomes come and sit next to me cups full just as I thought I was done with this spot. One of the girls excitedly jumps to the front of the steps to photograph them. Their Italian flows as freely as their cocktails. No one is aware of how much their existence delights me, about how I'm smiling as I jot to myself the magnificence of being present in this moment in their lives. I will return to my hotel soon to get ready for a concert, and the thought of watching strings in an old church play classical music in the heart of Venice makes my heart beam with gratitude. What else could I possibly long for?

To see more Musings inspired by my time in Italy check out the YouTube Video Florence inspired or the YouTube Video Manarola inspired .

Thank you for following along and I’ll excited share what gets inspired next.

An Exciting Announcement to Share

Here for my once-a-year blog check-in to share some wonderful news. I have started my therapy practice! I truly feel this journey was divinely planned as it wasn’t in my original plans until all the changes became real about selling our house. If you’ve dreamed of owning some sacred land (23 acres) you can buy it, or of course, it would be helpful for you to pass along to any friends who may be interested.

Once my house co-owner and I set a timeline, I realized that I was still going to need more supervised hours to complete my associate to a fully licensed counselor journey. After some brainstorming with my supervisor, it became obvious that creating my practice was the best choice.

I have many goals of where and how I want to grow this practice and I feel blessed to be given this vision to carry out. It’s been a huge follow-the-calling moment of growth for me. One where my heart understood that I was being called to something before my mind could wrap around it.

I had to allow myself to see how much I’ve grown in my abilities to hold space for others, and to recognize that my life has been preparing me for this since day 1. My experiences from childhood on have given me the chance to grow and expand into a person who can hold space for the most challenging emotions and stress.

Being trauma-informed, intuitive, and using my journey makes me feel equipped to help others have a chance at a brighter and lighter life. Everyone deserves a chance to heal.

My goal is to empower my clients to face anything that is standing in their way to wholeness, to guide them to a place of ease in their bodies, and for them to accept and love themselves in the process. My license is currently only available for me to see clients in the state of Georgia, so if you know someone who may benefit from my support please pass along my information.

As the practice grows and evolves I will update with excitement as I feel quite delighted about the ideas that are building in my mind and heart.

Looking out at the trees painted in their fall colors I am reminded of 5-year-old Hope, who sat in her apple tree looking out at the mountain views changing in their seasons. That apple tree was my safe space from the many traumas my childhood brain was trying to process and escape from. 

Hope Homestead

As I currently brush ladybugs off of me and watch the wooly worms scoot by, I am reminded of the mountains I grew up in and my childhood. I am reminded of how much nature healed childhood Hope, but also how much writing did! I sat for hours writing poems and stories to escape from my realities. I would write poems about the trees and the clouds and would imagine myself writing children's books with these musings. 

A home from a brief period of my childhood

I wasn’t the most artistic child mostly because I would rather be outside in the woods or at the creek or on my bike, but I always imagined one day I would write poems and make the art to accompany them.

I recently published my first zine which is a concept I have played with off and on since I was 5 years old and I just didn’t have the language to name it. My childhood self would be so proud of myself for finally pushing past the fear of what everyone would think to publish my work! 

I have lately been using an old tool of mine where I communicate with childhood Hope in my mind. I go back and tell her some of how I have since learned to heal trauma and imagine little Hope in her apple tree learning to heal her wounds instead of internalizing at a young age that they were all her fault. 

Buy my FIRST Zine

I hear my 5-year-old self shouting my praises that I finally put my work out there! I hear her knowing that this concept of writing a memoir has weighed on my heart and mind at many different phases in life to be solidified during my caregiving journey, and knowing how much I have blocked myself. How much I have worried about what everyone will think. She knows what this release of my first published writings as an adult means! I say first as an adult because my mom recently reminded me she had a poem published of mine when I was 11. See below. 😂

From 1995

If I want to make anyone in life proud it is 5-year-old me, and today I feel that in my soul. She’s proud, she also knows that this is just the start. This is the first of many zines that will follow. The act of creating the writing space I wrote about months ago meant I needed to have many different projects going.

The progress in writing a memoir to me has shown up best when I’m not putting pressure on it to be the only writing I’m focusing on. That is what led me to stare at so many blank screens unable to find words, because I would try to force the flow. Instead, allowing whatever writings that want to come out in my daily practice has opened the floodgates. Blocks no more, I have made significant progress on my book simply by allowing other free writing to take place.

PLAY in nature

My favorite form of self-care has always been play, play in nature and creativity. The boxes and boxes of journals are proof of the amount I have tapped into this. Play is at the root of what created this zine as most of the art I made that is background was made in a creative play space. The words share about a journey of healing, through seeking validation from the outside world, to learning to give this to myself, to honoring Steve who taught me how to be loved as a woman who was always longing for the right kind of attention and love. 

The pieces included in this zine are highly personal and this feels like a great big step out into putting my work out into the world. I already am working on other zine theme ideas I am feeling called to make so more will follow. 

Personal Musings

I have a goal to sell 100 as my first zine and I am halfway there so if you want to support childhood and adult me I would be so thankful! I also truly hope the words and art touch a part of your soul, bring some healing and inspiration, and mean as much to you as they do to me! 

Thank you to everyone who has supported me in every capacity. These practices & your support continues to make my wildest dreams come true. I’m celebrating today with my 5 year old self but hope to see many of you in person soon to celebrate all our accomplishments soon. CELEBRATION IS HOW WE SURVIVE the chaos of our times. Self care is how we survived these times. This Zine is my survival. You support my dreams, you support my survival. What a huge moment.

FOREVER THANKFUL FOR YOU

Era of Accountability

I started writing this while sitting in my office due to a no-show, watching a squirrel eat the food I put out for the chicken who visits my office daily. It’s another day where the pressures of needing hours for my license ring in the back of my head while I try to focus on other things instead of dwelling on the missing hour. I tell myself it’s an hour that you can do something productive with, yet I find myself staring out the window in an effort not to scroll on my phone.

I keep thinking I have so much to say and update everyone on in blog form as it’s been close to a year since I have, and then when I sit down, my mind goes blank. I often spend time breathing and working towards a quiet mind, so you would think I would welcome this space with open arms, but it frustrates me. This isn’t the time I’m asking my mind to be a blank space; where are the words?

Words have been a form of processing for me since I was a child writing poems in an old apple tree. During the entire process of caring for Steve and the journey into finding myself back as a therapist, writing was my constant. All I had to do was sit in front of a journal or computer, and the words would flow. I always felt like I had an open tap to sentences flowing from my fingertips. 

I have often neglected to show up to my computer for personal words since starting back as a mental health counselor because words have switched places in my life. Now I am having conversations upwards of 9 hours a day. If all of my clients show up, by the time my week is done, my mind seems unable to weave words together coherently, let alone a pleasant one. 

Yet I remain persistent in knowing I need to share my story in writing. The thought will never leave my mind; it’s in the background when traveling, in session, or hiking in the woods. The knowledge is deep in my being. I feel it in my core, so not showing up to writing is a self-betrayal. 

There’s only so much I can find myself spinning out because I know I am being called to show up to something and ignoring it. After all, it’s hard. It’s hard because my brain is heavily weighed upon in these conversations with my job. The job is my purpose. I know it is because nothing else makes sense, but now I realize I need to reclaim a part of me that I’m giving away in it.

Me showing up to a writing practice benefits my clients as much as it does me because when I’m showing up to that more significant calling that will not stop shouting my name, I’m showing up to life. I’ve navigated many things with my clients with ease because it’s been something I’ve navigated with myself prior; now, this will be added to my list of understanding self to understand others.

If I need to find something to hold me accountable, maybe this will do the trick. If I do show up for myself, I can more fully show up for everyone else who comes to me with their dreams and wishes and so desperately wants to show up to their dreams in their entire presence. 

Now I’m sitting on my porch with the view that, despite how familiar it is, it still distracts me in the best ways. The fog rolled over the lush green trees in their peak summer aliveness. I intentionally took the beginning of this week off to soak in time alone with words and nature. Knowing how many clients would not come into the office for the 4th of July week, it felt like the perfect time to reclaim the part of my brain I’d given away freely for over a year.

I spent my day with a picnic by the creek reading old journals to try to drudge up the rest of this book I’ve been writing for the past decade. This isn’t one of those announcements of completion, nor is it one of those dopamine hits where I talk about doing a project instead of working on one. Looking back at my past journals reminded me of a time I needed it, that my life is my story, and it’s always there, ready to be told. 

All I have to do is show up. Show up. Show up for me. 

found this page in an old journal that was calling me out, if you want to be more confident in your work, do more of it. 

So, allow me to step into this era of accountability with grace and say it’s about time I’m here. This is just one of many areas of my life I feel like it’s time I hold myself accountable for. The energy in the cosmos, the intensity of summer, and pulsing through me are one of holding myself responsible for my dreams, growth, and life!

I started this new practice of acceptance and working on loving parts of myself that I know is my shadow side to integrate it instead of running away from it. You can’t heal something you won’t look at, so I am in full cringe right now, making myself look at pieces of me that I have avoided acknowledging directly in the face, working towards that phrase of I am cringe, but I am free. 

I accept that when things get hard, I often want to stop showing up because it feels easier to not try instead of failing. However, in holding myself accountable to living a life aligned with my values, it means more to show up to life's callings and try than to not. So here I am. So is this an update without a real update? Kind of.  

Also, to inform you, if you aren’t already in the know, that I started a youtube channel. Because filming rambles & pretty scenery is now an easier way to keep my throat chakra open and flowing than typing blogs, if you’ve missed your doses of hope, check it out. I go into more detail about the things hinted at in this blog update in my videos. If anything resonates, please let me know! Trying to find my swing, and all feedback is helpful information.

Real updates are soon to follow aside from this playful plea for you to tune into my channel, and I have been long over due for a travel blog update cause the world has been GOOD to me but also imparted lessons that want to be shared!

On the Other Side of Resistance

Flashing back to me rushing to pack up all of the life Steve and I had built in our house to get ready to move in September 2020. The what if’s spiraling in my mind were my fuel to conquer each task with as little deep thought as possible to assure I would get things done!

I planned to use this chaotic energy to tackle the overflowing garage. Boxes of unsorted items stood between me and my finish line. Determined to carry on with the clearing and downsizing a friend came over to help me. 

Halfway through I found myself sitting on the concrete floor sobbing and unable to string together words to explain to my friend what I found. I pull out the top folder and pass it over to her to read for herself, “Drug and Alcohol Therapy.” This box contained all the remnants of my past life as a mental health counselor. 

Slowly thumbing through the box I compose myself and find that I am only able to repeat, “I don’t know how I could ever care for strangers like I did my husband,” in between the tears. Reading the literature and seeing the sad, old paychecks that barely supported my life built immediate resistance to returning to life as a counselor. 

This reminder comes after celebrating my one year of deciding to return to counseling! The return was a debilitating process yet here I am! Steven Pressfield says, “The more important an activity is for your soul's evolution, the more resistance you will feel.” I resisted going back into being a counselor more than anything I have in life, and on the flip side being a counselor suits me more than anything in life. 

I thought I would never be through the anxiety, grief, or trauma to be in a position to hold space for anyone. I couldn’t see it. The John O’Donohue quote, “I live like a river flows carried by the surprise of its unfolding.” rings in my head as I think about the process it took to arrive where I am today. 

I used every excuse I could muster to not return to being a therapist, until everything else I tried failed. The failures redirected me time and time again, and the personal interactions continued to point me in one direction. Back to counselor Hope. Life reaffirmed my final choice when I applied to countless non-therapy jobs and heard nothing back, but the day I applied to three counseling jobs I received callbacks the same day. 

The idea of starting supervision over again, the idea that I would struggle to compare problems that aren’t as severe as ALS, the idea that I would have to change every piece of me to be accepted in this world, the idea that I would have a panic attack with the first client who showed anxiety in session, the idea that I was not good enough. A small summary of the types of things that my mind created in my resistance. 

Holding space for others has returned to me naturally, but perhaps what’s been the most confidence-boosting is having some personal stuff rock me but still being able to show up fully to work. I never knew my nervous system would be so strong and secure that I would be able to show up unwavering for my clients. It’s a beautiful testament to showing up to my healing and life only continues to get brighter and brighter each day falling back in love with my purpose. 

If you follow me closely you already have read my musings to myself for how proud I am. You know that celebrating my wins is a huge part of my daily practice, but perhaps you may not have the full scope as to why it’s such a major accomplishment to me. I am finding my way back to my other beings while finding my home in this.

I’ve learned a lot in my year back in the counselors' chair but here is what stands out the most. 

• Our beliefs can enchant our lives. 

• Life gets clearer when you stop ruminating and tap into thoughtfulness instead. 

• A good life is not how it adds up in the end, but what you’re counting along the way.  

• Two things can exist at once. Grief and Gratitude. It’s up to us to find the balance.

• Hope grows by giving it away. 

• Our emotions give us depth, and learning to feel them and heal them is our superpower.  Our feelings are valid. Feeling them is healing them, but we don’t need to make our homes in them. 

• If you knew people’s stories you would have more understanding of their behaviors. 

• At the root, people want love. They need love. 

• We are more than our thoughts, but those thoughts can create our reality. 

• Pain comparison only invalidates your experience and stops you from healing.

Processing a Year

I’m writing this as I listen to my chickens doing their egg-laying clucking, reflecting on how a year ago Erica and I were closing on this house with nothing but dreams and hopes. Listening to my chickens as I reflect on this past year gives me a full-circle feeling.

As I’m sitting here, I’m reflecting on all the steps I have made to be where I am now. The feelings I’ve forced myself to sit with, the processes I’ve arduously worked through to feel ready to enter the world again. I’m currently studying for my National Counselors exam that I will promptly schedule once the licensing board reviews my application for associate licensed counselor and gives me approval.

I have a job anxiously waiting for me to get started once this process is over, and to my surprise, I am just as anxious as they are for this to happen. I resisted getting a job where I would leave the house for fear that I would crumble, especially if it was me sitting with others during their process.

I honestly had given up on the idea of returning to the field of counseling until just a few months ago; as I’ve shared before, I was growing tired of the floundering feeling. I was seeking the answers, the path, the next step. I was not enjoying the period of uncertainty of what I should be doing, and I judged my struggle in this process.

The truth is, pain is inevitable; suffering is optional. I needed this year to leave me flopping around between failed opportunities and relationships to truly work through my resistance to going back to what I know. I didn’t need to judge myself so harshly while experiencing this shedding of an old identity, but I chose a little bit of suffering to top my pain.

To make a transition from being a caregiver, something I felt so ingrained into my being, into my next step, I expected there to be plasticity in the process. The truth is I needed the friction. It helped me see things from a new perspective, the one needed to see how capable I am of handling friction, handling the uncomfortable, and handling other people’s processes.

There are some ways in which I had hoped I would be further along by now. I would have a stable career under me, and I would know at the beginning of each month I wouldn’t have a panic attack at how I was going to pay my bills. While I’m not there in life, I’m more “stable” in other ways than I had anticipated.

Once thinking I would never be able to exist in a crowded public space without panic attacks, they are rare now. Once thinking I would never be able to open up to dating again, has had some success, although none lasting, that doesn’t matter :)

Getting back into studying all things psychology-related, I stumbled upon a quote from Carl Young, “Only the paradox comes anywhere near to comprehending the fullness of life.”

The paradox of not feeling stable yet feeling the most stable I have in years perfectly sums up what this past year has held for me. In so many ways, I’ve exceeded my hopes and anticipations with living here, and in many others, I have much work to do!

However, now I can confidently say I have no doubt I truly can show up and do all that is needed of me now, and that to me is far greater than a financial success story. I know I’m on my path, and I know I am capable, and NOW I know that however this unfolds, I’ll be able to show up wholeheartedly.