Understanding the Tides of My Emotions

Tired and weary and in much need of space, I got all the little ducks lined up, and headed for the ocean.

My husband was back from his four day golf trip; Axel was napping, Anja was fed, and Leif was entertained while he continued to recover from whatever the fuck cold that has been plaguing our household for weeks.

It was a perfect fall day. I noticed and delighted in every brilliant colored tree as I drove. No one was in the car screaming, ah there was ease.

I arrived at the beach to find a packed parking lot. I didn't see a spot in sight, and then I turned my head to the right and boom a truck with its back up lights on.

I backed up, he pulled out, I pulled in.

Bonus– the spot was right in front of the bath house AND the parking ticket meter– I acknowledged and thanked the universe. I smiled, and thought "the universe provides."

I hit the boardwalk. Ocean air blew straight into my face and I reveled in my freedom.

I noticed the ocean was roaring and thought "that's exactly how I've been feeling," and then I put one foot in front of the other at a power pace.

I had a predetermined distance and I was zooming towards it, watching the waves and the people.

A few minutes into walking I heard a woman remark in a tone of disgust "Oh my God, is that child wearing underwear? God, just take off all your clothes, might as well let them run naked!" She really wanted God to make sense of this for her, lol.

I thought " What the fuck is the difference, other than material, of a bathing suit vs. underwear?" It's the same amount of skin after all, ones just designated as "proper" beach attire and apparently the other is too scandalous? How interesting that woman was so bothered by that child, perhaps she was never allowed to frolic in her underwear, most certainly not in public!

I saw how much fun the boy was having.

I kept walking.

Pounding that pavement, releasing stress with each stride. Knowing that the laws of energy (of emotions) state:

1. Energy wants to move.

2. Energy needs space to move.

I finally had the space and I was movin' and groovin'.

I shook out my arms as I walked, like a deer shaking out the stress on the side of the road after a close encounter with a car.

We are meant to discharge stress from our bodies but we modern humans are stellar at accumulating it instead.

I began practicing the sounding breaths of the 5 elements of Chinese medicine, I didn't think anyone could hear me but I also gave no fucks if they did. I was releasing all the build up.

Whoooo-Fear.

Shhhhh-Anger.

Haaaaa-Anxiety.

Ujjayi(ocean breath)- Worry.

Ssssss-Grief.

I started to smile, to relax my shoulders down my back, to delight in other people's experience and energy; exchanging waves and smiles with the other walkers passing by.

I noticed a mother and father holding the hands of their young daughter and remembered the almost five years of just Hugo, I and Leif. I instantly felt empathy for Leif and his ongoing struggles to accept he is no longer the only child. I felt my own inner child's unmet needs and ploys for attention, and in my mind gave little-me a hug.

I kept walking.

Then I noticed how all the seating at the beach is placed near the bathhouses and that this is where everyone sits to smoke. I thought "I enjoy walking by the ocean, taking deep cool breaths and they enjoy looking out at the sea as they breathe in smoke." To each their own I thought and also thought how nice it is to align with my own truth and accept others for theirs even if I disagree from a health perspective. I thought, don't we all benefit from doing what brings us joy and isn't living in accordance with our own truth all we can truly control? And afterall scarcity and restriction cause so much pain.

I thought– yes perhaps smoking is bad from a health perspective but so are negative thoughts, and plenty of people (myself included sometimes) have thousands of those dangerous "puffs" a day.

I walked on.

I then noticed the beautiful statue of "The Lady of the Sea," I'd seen it before but never read its inscription "Breathe soft, ye winds. Ye' waves in silence rest." Wow. Wasn't that right on time I thought.

Thanks Universe!

I noticed, I think a lot. How freeing it would be to not notice so many thoughts, but I do know I am not my thoughts, I am the awareness of them and so I am glad I am able to see them for what they are.

And then I ventured on.

When I hit the seawall I laughed out loud watching the waves splash up over the edge causing a dog and its owner to jump. The dog shook it off, the owner did not, but she did laugh and smile, that made me smile even more.

Then I saw an older woman resting against the wall looking back at the beach. I thought to myself "I want to see what she is seeing" and I am so glad I did. I stopped (it was time for a rest, I'm still working on rest.) I turned and saw a glorious glimmering golden path of the sun spanning across the rough waves. I saw that the waves start far out at sea and pick up strength as they approach the shore, and thought "that's just like my emotions." They build up in an intensity over time with the accumulation of stress to my body, mind, and spirit. They become especially strong when avoided, denied, or repressed.

I reminded myself that stress to the nervous system becomes compounded and that I am only human. That the "big waves" start further out and then the daily overstimulation and demands mount to a "raging sea." I realized that I once again had been reacting to this within my life, the waves had been crashing non-stop up against "my wall." I had briefly lost my ability to respond, I had been hyperactive and I do not like the way that feels.

I started walking again.

I was a few miles into my trek now, still walking at a feverish pace. It was then I saw him. An older gentleman wearing an Orvis shirt and a flat brimmed fancy hat with tied flies in the ribbon that wrapped the crown. He was cool and he knew it, he was living it up and I could tell he wasn't missing the moment he was in. He grinned at me and I think I may have blushed.

I realized then how in the moment I was. How I found the capacity to see and experience everything, each step, each breath, each soul I encountered.

I had found relief from my "Motherwhelm."

I rounded the corner to the next stretch of beach with the intention of walking all the way to its end as well. I used to walk many many miles a day, it's hard for me to not compete with that former version of myself. I was once a highly competitive athlete and now I'm a tired mother with a remnant of that athlete still fighting to live on. And then I thought of Glennon Doyle and said to myself "I'm a badass love warrior, tired and weary or not!"

As I walked on further, I started counting my breaths with the intention of mindfully breathing 108 breaths. I found myself remembering a time I counted each step as I hiked through the woods for over three miles in the rain with an ex-boyfriend I wished I could get away from. I smiled and thought, I did it, I got away. That time of my life passed and when I was in it, I wasn't sure how to get out. I let myself suffer in that relationship for far longer than he or I deserved but I found my way out of that dark. That time was meant to teach me not to take the partner I now spend my life with for granted, and, I don't.

I kept walking, smiling, breathing. I made it to the 80's or 90's of counting my breath and I just stopped; I declared I didn't have to keep going.

And then…

I made it to a point in my walk and I just stopped, I told myself I didn't have to keep going. I remembered there was no medal at the "finish line", no award for pushing a depleted body any further, I had already accomplished what I really came to do.

I stopped and saw all the surfers waiting for the next wave. I smiled, and thought they were riding the waves with zest, with joy, with determination. They got knocked down and they got up again. Sometimes they fell the moment they stood up. Sometimes they were carving and riding and then seemed to jump off just for fun, and other times they were riding along and got walloped by a part of the wave they didn't account for. No matter what happened they were all just out there looking for the ride of their lives, isn't that what we are all here for? To experience the best versions of ourselves and create the most magical experience within our own circumstances? And isn't it the wave that blindsides us and knocks us down the one that teaches us grit and resilience?

Then I felt the flood of gratitude for my beautiful messy life. I felt my strength and resilience for the number of times I've been thrashed by a wave and gotten back up to chase the ride again. I had reverence for my own traumas and the growth they have afforded me, for the way they guide me to be of service to others' recovery.

After watching the surfers for some time. I turned, it was time to go back.

I walked slower now. Stopping at certain places where I saw the sea spray over the wall to let it hit me right in the face.

A few times I thought of asking for the time and then I didn't (I had intentionally left the distraction of my phone in the car.) I validated to myself that I wasn't on borrowed time, this was my time, I earned this time for myself and I deserved as long as I needed. I was rejoicing in Kairos time.

I am not a martyr to motherhood.

When I reached the seawall looking back over the long stretch of beach I still needed to cover to reach my car, I looked at the golden path of light once more. I saw the stillness further out at sea and smiled, within the same ocean there is rough water and endless stretches of smooth deep dark waters. Under the surface is mystery, the

unknown; and I find that so very exciting. I reminded myself that even when it's pitch dark the full moon casts a brilliant path of light across the ocean, and remembered how recently I followed that very light into the dark cold water, unable to even see the waves as they came, naked and fearless.

When I reached the first set of stairs leading down to the beach I took them, at the bottom I removed my shoes and strode barefoot in the sand. I made my way to the incoming tide and walked the rest of the way with its cold cleansing waters engulfing my feet each step.

At one point I remembered the last trip to the beach with the kids. Axel had experienced quite a fright when he decided to drive his dump truck full speed down the slope to the oncoming waves. It was a head on collision, I saw it all happen like I was watching in slow motion but could do nothing to stop it. I wasn't supposed to. I realize more and more I'm not here to control anyone else's experience, and trying is both futile and exhausting. I do remember thinking though "I hope that doesn't make him fear the ocean." And then I flashed forward to the moment I was in and thought "I am not afraid of the ocean, I am the ocean. I am not afraid of my tides or my raging seas!" And then decided even if Axel was afraid of the ocean, I would support him in challenging that fear with courage, but only if he asked me too. And then I had even more faith in each of my children's ability to navigate their own path, with my love and acceptance of them as the greatest guiding light I could ever offer.

I stopped, stood in the water and metaphorically took off the hat of the "family fixer" of the "normal one" that was unconsciously placed on my head during my childhood and said I'm ready for these parts to be lost at sea.

And then my walk was over… and this is what I gleaned from it.

Breathe soft ye winds

Ye' waves in silence rest

Take it slow... It's been my mantra for some time, I even have a hand painted reminder of it on my fridge.

But alas I forget, I get swept up with the tides, especially when they get turbulent. Subconscious programs take hold of me and I witness myself spiraling down.

My overachiever says "What's your problem, just keep swimming!" and my recovering perfectionist says "Why can't you swim better by now!" While the budding nurturer, the mother in me says "Slow down beloved, it's time to rest with self love."

These past few weeks were A LOT!

A lot of mental and emotional turbulence that made me feel like I was swimming in the riptide and being pulled by the under toe all at once. I was physically depleted trying my best to tend to everyone's needs; meeting my own needs felt out of reach, in fact I told myself I couldn't do it, I forgot that is a lie.

It's funny, I've certainly swam in this sea of emotional and physical challenge before but it's like when I'm there I forget there is still plenty of fresh ocean air to breathe, there's still calm that can be found if I remember to swim a little further past the breaking waves. There I can always go in deeper, find sweet silence and vast space, there I can float, come up and enjoy the air all around me and within me; there I can remember that finding retreat day to day, even for a mere breath or two is the whole damn practice. Amid the crashing waves, I always have my breath and a hand to place on my heart.

I forget sometimes when things feel too hard, that it's just the next big leap, my next opportunity for big growth and transformation. An old skin being shed. A rebirth.

I realize it does me no good to become frustrated at myself for "forgetting" because I am re-membering so much faster these days, in so, I am returning to whole. I can celebrate how much closer I am to leaving all the lies behind, I can appreciate the beauty of each storm surge purging these un-truths from my deepest depths.

The last few days I have remembered and have yet again dis-membered and disentangled myself from more layers of old and tired programs.

Just like the sea surging because of a storm, my raging seas come to clear me and cleanse me, if I am aware enough to feel through it all to heal it. When I do I can see the bright path of glimmering gold spread across the sea that is my life.

I can accept there will always be rough water, another storm surge, waves crashing against me AND it's all part of the plan.

I am good enough (especially as a mother,) I can swim well enough and there is always a life raft to grab onto or a big breath of life force available at any given moment. I can always find space in my heart.

I'm a cycle breaker, I am here to limit/end the generational trauma in my family; it's no easy feat and surely I can be more graceful and compassionate with myself in these uncharted waters. My greatest challenge is to be the game changer without the "virus of perfectionism" creeping back in.

My three hour reprieve to walk by the ocean alone with awareness of my thoughts was truly a walking of the yogic path, far beyond the practice on my mat. It was yoga off the mat, the journey of discovering true self; a journey of healing, learning and expanding into higher potential.

And…

I know one thing for sure– this path, these discoveries– it's available to all!

Motherhood is a sisterhood, we are all growing with our children, we all are part of a collective healing. We are all humans doing the best we can.

So if you've read this far, and you have been treading water or feel like you've been drowning in your own raging sea, you might consider:

What is this hardship trying to show me?

What parts of me are surging up to be healed?

How can I catch the next wave with more joy?

What part do I play in my own suffering?

How do my children's emotions and my reactions to them shine a light on my own emotional health?

What does my nervous system need?

In what ways are you holding yourself to standards of the past?

How can I meet my own needs when I'm feeling overwhelmed?

Journal on it mama or take a contemplative walk, and you'll see– you're the only one who has all the answers to the questions that unlock your greatness. It is your awareness and your intention to prioritize your needs, that is the life raft needed to ride out the storms. It is your willingness to feel all your feelings without shame or guilt for having them, without deeming yourself a "bad mom." It is your understanding that not being okay is way more than okay. It is your ability to take the space you need when you need it that assures you (the real you) will not be lost at sea.

Be well, I love you.

Mamaste well,

Rose

Ps. Dancing is super healing, heres a jam to move your energy and remember you are already enough!