Wellness Trending: Welcome to My Health Discovery Series

May 23, 2017

My writing has been getting hella deep lately. (hella, did I really just say that. Yes I did. Moving on.) It’s no secret I am swimming in one very introspective chapter of life, one of those growing stages. (does it ever stop? My mom says no.) This particular period of life involves an excavation of layers physical, mental, and emotional.

My words lately have been challenging words, raw and real words, the kind that hit us where it hurts.

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But it’s important to remember: not all days are bad days. There may be moments of darkness, hours and weeks, but there is light, too, oh so much light seeping through the cracks I’m sealing around my tired body and soul. And you know what? It is time to give the light its fair chance to shine on these pages, too. So here we go:

Welcome to Wellness Trending, my new weekly (well, #goals weekly) series. As I recover from disordered eating habits, exercise addiction, the fallout to both of those and, well, all the other stuff I’ve been writing about lately, I’ve been getting curious. And I crave a space to really dig into this curiosity and talk it out with you all, because I know I am not alone in the quest for all the healthy things–

In need of an honestly messy, imperfectly-photographed smoothie bowl, sweaty post-workout-way, too.

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The Girl & Her Coffee Cup: A Life Metaphor We All Need to Hear

May 17, 2017

I heard a metaphor the other day involving a girl and her coffee cup. Hands outstretched and fingers gripping tightly to her mug, she runs. Thumb looped through the handle she is careful not to spill, but the faster she runs–and oh! how she must run!–coffee sloshes up and over the rim. Drops fly. The cup empties.

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The girl sprints by her source once more for a refill–but the running must continue. She receives only drips from the Maker in passing.

On and on she goes, day after day, week after week.

We all know how this story ends: when nearing empty, one cannot survive on passing drips alone. Dehydration takes it toll long before thirst is felt,

Empty knows this. Yet Empty refuses to slow down enough to receive Fullness: There is one more thing to do! One more project, assignment, workout class. One more night we just can’t miss out on. Promotions to chase and salaries to raise. Bodies to trim and clothes to buy.

Empty will eventually stop–perhaps the only way she will stop–when she is met with a slow burn ending in a crash and fall. 

I am the girl with the coffee cup. I, too, was Empty.

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Owning My Empathetic Badass-ery

April 10, 2017

And I got way too many feels, way too much emotion
I don’t even know what’s real, I just say f*&k it, keep on going

-Kiiara ( & Avery)

I am a feelings girl–my heart bleeds on my sleeve. I cry when I get excited. I cry when I laugh too hard. I cry at sad movies, like real, belly-deep ugly cry that keeps me up at night. (I avoid sad books and The Fault in Our Stars and movies where animals die for this very reason.)

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I cry when others cry. I cry at concerts when the music is just so good. I cry when I sense my sisters’ pain even from across the country. I also literally shake with happiness at good news, and can hear my heart crack under the weight of disappointment and unmet expectations.

For the majority of my young life, I thought this was wrong. I thought I was faulty. Too sensitive,  they said. Drama queen, they said. Toughen up, they said.

So I tried.

I stuffed down emotions only for them to explode later. I buried myself deep inside my head, weaving myself up tight in lies questioning my self-worth, my purpose, and my mistakes. Relationships and close friendships imploded.

It wasn’t until my senior year of college when years of depression and eating disorders became unignorable, a very wise woman (my therapist, God love her) brought me to a life-changing realization:

the very trait I was seeing as my weakness is actually my strength.

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Tripod Reunion: Jalama, Unplugged

March 21, 2017

I can’t remember the last time I went more than 24 hours without a cell phone. No screens, just waves and stars. No texting, just talking around the campfire. No emails, no work, just rest–pure rest.

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Two of my best friends from my San Diego spin days decided it was time we all–The Tripod–reunite at a scenic camping spot somewhat-halfway between our two cities.

We booked our Jalama beach camping site in January, dreaming of beach days and campfire nights away from the city lights. We committed to no electronics (save cameras) and no work talk–it was time to reconnect and give our bones the deep rest they needed. Even while writing this two weeks later, I can nearly feel the longing deep down in my marrow to return to that restful space in time.

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How quickly the weekend passed by! Unplugging, even for just a short moment, refreshes in a way nothing else can.

Read on for our photo-journal from the trip >>

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This is why I haven’t written lately

February 23, 2017

“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”  – Brené Brown

As humans, we gravitate toward stories. We love stories for their beginning, middle and end, a perfect succession of past, present and future.

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We love stories because of the rise after the fall. We fervently listen to the hero’s tale of fighting, overcoming, then saving the world and going on to rescue humanity with their lessons learned. We attach strings of our own truth, heartaches and struggles to the characters we read. We think, me too! and when they win, if they can, so can I.

I started my blog out this way. Writing buoyed me as I waded and swam through my eating disorder recovery. It saw me through to my win and beyond, looking down over the debris of a battle fought and won.

Strong. Brave.  

But here’s a thing about stories–they are never really over until we are gone, our earthly shells reduced to sprinkles of dust under the hard ground. Life is a series of ups and downs, challenges and changes–this we know well.

But for a while I was speeding along too fast to see the next hurdle in my path.

I am going to be painfully honest here. I’ve gone back and forth about this post for about two months now, after taking a break from writing because the words just wouldn’t come. I needed to pause, I needed to start the healing process. But the more I open up to my closest confidants, the more I have found this truth still stands: we are not alone in the struggle. 

So remember this please, when I share my story with you.

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