Standing on Solid Ground

My weekend with Elizabeth Gilbert and learning to let go of what I carry.

15 years ago this week, my father passed away months shy of his 50th birthday.

He died 13 days after a public transportation bus went out of its lane, tossing his body and motorcycle into the concrete median on the highway.

13 days is just long enough to feel almost certain that everything will be okay.

1 day before he was supposed to go to rehab to learn how to walk again, his body succumbed to the trauma of the accident.

22 is the number of years I’d been on this earth when I watched the nurses try to revive him.

I don’t know how that girl survived feeling so shattered; death characterized every step forward.

I no longer feel infinitely wounded but scarred from years of running after my father’s ghost, and feeling deeply unraveled by his absence.

At 37, my feet are more firmly planted; my well-being practices are a lifeline. One of the reasons my nonprofit, The Courage Campaign, includes journaling as a core element of our curriculum is because along with moving my body, sorting out my feelings on the page helped me reckon with my pain and brokenheartedness.

This past weekend, I solo-traveled to Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health to take a workshop with Elizabeth Gilbert. It was transformational in the kind of way that creates generational healing. I was forced to grapple with fear, love, and God in a safe container, humming with hopeful energy. Thanks to Liz’s offering, I enter this week more prepared to sit with my grief, surrender to her, and hear what she has to say. That doesn't mean I’m not sad! I’m just not reverting to that young woman who was coming apart at the seams, inconsolable, and afraid.

Whenever confronted with death, my brain screams LIVE! Let go of fear, ego, and other people’s expectations because, at any moment, all of this can change.

To that end, I hope you delight in a few of my insights from this weekend. 10 post-workshop reflections, and 10 in-workshop quotes from Liz.

xx, A

From me

1. You cannot think clearly or deeply access your creativity when you are always plugged in and available.

2. Kripalu has no luxury, and I think that’s on purpose. You go there to receive something for your soul. Not to distract, numb, or avoid.

3. Everyone is carrying something really heavy in their hearts. Take things less personally.

4. Will I ever be able to escape seeing Black and brown people as the cooks, dishwashers, and cleaners? We are perpetually the caretakers and essential workers.

5. I’m grateful to be alone without the distraction of friends and family who only view me in specific contexts and through a specific lens.

6. They have a silent breakfast policy. Chef’s kiss.

7. My favorite mindfulness activities were coloring and walking in nature without headphones.

8. Nourishing food is a luxury.

9. Experience the thing instead of taking pictures of the thing.

10. Your morning sets the tone for the day. I think this is *peak* self-care time.

From Liz

1. Capitalism depends on self-hatred.

2. Trade purpose for presence.

3. Love doesn't try to fix things, it just listens.

4. Fear tells you that you are uniquely fucked.

5. Self-care is creating a life you don’t need to run away from all the time.

6. P.A.U.S.E. Perhaps An Unseen Solution Exists

7. The highest peace is to want what IS.

8. Move the spotlight of your attention from fear to love.

9. Fear and pain are seductive.

10. Purpose anxiety = the pressure to change the world.

Reflect:

Write a list of 5 ways you can care for yourself that don’t involve money, technology, or hours and hours of your time.

Do those things regularly.

Act:

These are some of the tracks that feel nourishing to me in this season. If they resonate, add them to your playlist. If not, consider creating curated playlists for your emotional and spiritual needs.

For Meditation:

For Writing:

To drown out coffee shop noise: