Fellow Early Risers Unite (Not to Take Over the World Or Anything But To Share Cacao Recipes)

Nothing is nicer than waking up in the cool dark of the early morning to make a fire in the fire place and read or write for awhile before the world wakes up. I turn on the classical radio station I’ve been listening to my entire life, and let the cats in or out, then out or in again. At least two - usually three or four - hot beverages make their way into my mug.

If you’re wondering how many hot beverages one can possibly drink in the morning, especially because I’m avoiding coffee right now (not because I want to avoid coffee, but because my poor, beleaguered adrenals demand it), allow me to share the mania. I drink two cups of winter support tea with elderberry, rosehips, and ginger every day during the cold months. I usually have some form of cacao, either the basic version tossed into the little electric beverage heater-blender thing that’s essential when you’re as devoted to hot drinks as I am or the fancy version with cacao, dark chocolate, maple syrup, reishi powder, cinnamon, and cayenne. Then of course there’s tea, I’m digging peppermint right now, bought loose from Petaluma Coffee & Tea Company. And finally, as a symbol that it’s time to start being productive, the herbal coffee substitute I make using Lizzie’s recipe.

I need a lot of quiet time to myself and so the early mornings are sacred. Not sacred enough to set an alarm or anything but my inherited body clock wakes me up between four and five am everyday, like it or not. This worried me for awhile, until my mom told me that my dad used to wake up at four every morning and my brother does too. She was the only one in the family who escaped the relentlessly early mornings. Whenever I manage to sleep until six or even seven in the morning, it’s like a choir of angels descends from the heavens to sing hallelujahs over my head while I revel in the fact that it’s light and I haven’t already been awake for three or four hours.

But that’s not what happened today. Today, I get a fire and cats and cacao and blogging before I start my day. Maybe tomorrow will be one of those wildly blessed days of sleeping til actual dawn. We can only hope.

Throwing a Tantrum as an Adult

As a youngster, I was famous for my tantrums. If life didn’t look the way I thought it should - if my socks were wrinkled, if a brother who wanted to play with my toys suddenly appeared, if I got a guinea pig instead of a dog - I lost my ever-loving mind.

I thought I’d grown out of that, but even as a 46-year-old, if I get triggered hard enough, I am capable of absolutely losing it.

We could chalk this unfortunate tendency up to a few things:

Neurodivergence:

While I haven’t gotten a formal diagnosis, I seem to be one of those people who need a great deal of freedom but also structure, who feel things very deeply without always knowing how to express it, who gets wildly overwhelmed in social situations to the point of fleeing if enough tricky things happen in a loud space.

Interestingly, a lot of tendencies can also be explained by my…

Human design:

Who else out there has an open emotional (solar plexus) center? As someone who has been surrounded by suppressed angry people my whole life, this one is a real treat. Most of my rage has been absorbed from someone else and learning how to not do that - so far, my best plan is literally to flee so I can get as far away from their rage volcano as possible, thereby not feeling it as if it were my rage volcano any more. Fight / flight is a big thing for people with open emotional centers, and I’ve spent my forties reaping the rewards of lifelong adrenal taxation. As with anything named “tax”, it’s not at all fun.

ASTROLOGY:

Apparently, Cancers are in their villain era right now and I. Am. Feeling. That.

All this to say, I have had a couple of emotional meltdowns already this year. I did not have “losing my shit twice in one week” on my 2025 bingo card.

When I’m in a deeply triggered state, there’s not a whole lot I can do except breathe. Square breathing is a lifesaver in those moments: breathe in for 4, hold for 4, breathe out for 4, hold for 4. It helps regulate me somewhat, and is much healthier than breaking things. I will genuinely think that I’m over this kind of reaction, because it won’t happen for months or years, and then hello, my old friend.

So the best thing I can do is 1) give my body what it needs (food, shower, rest, comfort TV), 2) not make any major decisions from this state, 3) work on healing and practicing better coping habits when I feel better.

If you also find yourself in a rage from time to time, I feel you. It’s okay. We aren’t terrible people. This world is just a lot, especially if you have a - shall we say - finely tuned nervous system.

Lots of love,

Amber

The California Fires

I struggle to process events like the California wildfires. As someone who lived in Santa Monica, whose brother was a California fire fighter, who was in Sonoma for the wild fires of 2017, my system is wide open to the trauma and devastation happening in real time. 

Humans aren’t built to process tragedies of this scope more than once, maybe twice, in a lifetime. But as more tragedies unfold every year, in a way that we can all watch on our phones, we have to evolve. We have to learn to regulate our bodies and hearts and nervous systems in order to stay present and open and loving and helpful. And that is no joke, my friends. 

Ten years ago, I lived in Santa Monica, just a few blocks away from where the Palisade fires are still - as of this moment - blazing with zero percent containment. Every time I get on social media, I see dystopian images of fire and animals fleeing, cars lying abandoned. It’s hard to process. Humans aren’t designed to process the kind of trauma and devastation we see on a daily basis now.

The amount of nervous system dysregulation that shows up in these situations - for those who have lost everything, for those who have been displaced, for those who are watching families, friends, fellow humans deal with this - is enormous.

To anyone who’s affected by the California fires in any way, I’m sending my love. 

How to Solve a Problem You Don't Know How To Solve

For years, I led myself through my life by writing about it. I would start with a question and write myself to an answer or a new perspective.

I’ve been moving through a cocoon stage for awhile now, dissolving into sticky goo, napping in the life-giving sludge, and then popping my head out to see what’s going on.

I keep thinking I’m out of it, that the wings are growing, but then I leap off something only to fall on my face.

Honestly, that might be life. Cocoon or not. But I want to lead myself through my current challenges and into the next phase. Whatever it is.

Do you sometimes experience a problem for so long that you just want a new problem? You get so sick of the problem and yourself in the problem that a forward move would be nice, but you’ll also accept a lateral move just for the change of scenery?

To be fair, I am seeing this particular problem from a new angle. I’ve actually moved through quite a few levels and layers of this problem, ascended to a few new heights with it. But it’s still here. Hi, problem.

If you’re wondering what the problem actually is - way to be vague, Amber - it’s money. It costs a lot of it to live in Northern California, especially when you have health issues that suck up a lot of cash and you want to start traveling again and you have a book buying habit.

So how do we solve problems we don’t know how to solve?

At first, we revert to a past version of ourselves. For me, it was the version of myself that got a job. The version of myself that tried to use my brain to figure it out. The version of myself that wanted answers and clarity, and wanted them now, damn it.

All that got me was a lot of frustration and exhaustion brought on by overthinking.

The answers of my past will not get me to the future I want.

What will get me there is still subject of debate, but here’s what I’m trying:

Rebuilding self-trust by keeping promises to myself.

I’ve always been a “bite off more than I can chew” kind of human - what can I say, if a little motion goes a long way, a lot goes even further - and I’ll overdo it and crash and burn.

So I’m trying a few promises and for a shorter length of time. Like, if I can stay away from gluten and sugar this week, I will have succeeded. Promise kept. If I exercise everyday this week, even if it’s just a half hour walk, promise kept.

Following my design.

I’m obsessed with human design, and learning to master how this works for me. For example, since I’m a Manifesting Generator, I’m heading in the right direction when I’m satisfied and in the wrong direction when I’m frustrated. I do best when I follow my intuitive hits in the moment - with a deeply felt yes or no. (Note to any friends and family who read this: Asking me vague questions will just confuse me. Asking me a yes or no question like, “Do you want Thai food right now?” will bring clarity for all.) (Yes, I want Thai food right now.)

How this relates to money: I have intuitive hits all the time about things I want to do, things I want to offer, ways to help. I’m practicing receiving the intuitive hit (or thought) (yes, intuitive hits can present as thoughts) and then checking it with my sacral by asking myself a yes/no question and going with the quick answer. Then actually doing that thing when I think of it. Rather than putting it on a list or scheduling it and trying to follow my schedule. This is likely going to mean I do a lot more things with a lot less notice, but I’m trusting that will work out.

Channeling money healings for myself and others.

This has actually helped a lot - since last year, it’s created a lot of ease and flow in my nervous system and finances, but there’s still a lot more to do, which is why I’m going to keep creating money healings until this problem is solved. For myself and anyone who joins me.

For me, right now, it’s about showing up fully. Trusting that things will work out. That if I show up in the way I’m meant to show up, the money will follow. It has in the past, it just requires a lot of me. Working on my business while also working on my books while also taking extremely good care of myself. That’s a lot to do, especially when you’re tired and your head hurts and you don’t have a boss breathing over your shoulder so you could get back in bed with that pile of books on your bedside table if you really wanted to.

And I will. At some point. But not before I do all the things my intuition and sacral are asking of me today. Headache or no.

Love,

Amber

The Energy of Shame

Nothing kills the taste of a nice brie like shame coating your tongue. 

Shame is one of the lowest frequencies on the emotional scale. Spending time there - especially a lot of time - really, really blows. Because you know what doesn’t work when you’re hanging out in the energy of shame? 

Anything. Anything at all. 

If you’re telling yourself you’re bad and wrong because you haven’t achieved what you wanted to achieve or things haven’t worked out, you’re just anchoring yourself into future disappointment. Ask me how I know. Actually don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Let me tell you about yesterday’s epiphany: 

I didn’t realize how much time I -hadn’t- been spending in shame until a fresh shame spiral hit. I remembered that feeling. I had spent so long in it for a few recent years that it was normal. It was life. It took finally lifting out of it to fully see how detrimental it is. 

So I dropped into shame. There are reasons (my brain does love a good reason), including more alcohol over the weekend than I’m used to. (Alcohol can tank my brain chemistry.) I wasn’t even sure what was wrong, I just knew I hadn’t felt this way in awhile and I didn’t like it. 

It wasn’t until Brandon said, “You’re in shame” that it clicked. (I am historically terrible at labeling feelings and emotional states.) 

THAT’S what this feeling is. The feeling that I’m bad and I’ve been doing things wrong and I’m a failure - a feeling that can lampoon any other thing that might be happening in my brain or emotions. 

The amount of shame I was in for a few years really explains a lot about why things weren’t going well for me. It’s impossible for things to go well when you’re locked in the lowest of low emotional frequencies. 

When you try to work in shame, it’s a disaster. Mostly you don’t get anything done, which just racks up more reasons to feel shame. Sometimes I would get something done but only with epic amounts of frustration. Then I’d just have to redo it later. If I did manage to finish something on my to-do list, it’s would be so marinated in the energy of shame that it wouldn’t go anywhere. If it was a piece of writing, crickets. If it was something to do with my business, it drops into the void. And rightfully so. The world doesn’t need anything else steeped in shame. 

So yesterday, I finally realized that trying to work in a shame spiral was pointless. So I decided to do some errands. Errands should be safe, right? WRONG.

Here’s how I learned not to do ANYTHING in a shame pit except do my best to feel better: 

The store I needed - and went all the way downtown for - was closed. I forgot my library card. Here’s the kicker: To make myself feel better, I got some nice cheese and crackers. 

BUT THE CHEESE DIDN’T TASTE GOOD. 

It was from Whole Foods! I love cheese! Even terrible cheese is good cheese! But it didn’t taste good at all. Shame had blunted my tastebuds. I know this for sure, because I’m eating the same cheese now, when I feel pretty good, and it’s delicious. 

Yesterday’s big lesson and the moral of my story: Do nothing in the energy of shame. 

Just do whatever it takes to feel better. Do whatever it takes to shift your energy, your frequency, the way you’re thinking about yourself. Even if it means pressing reset on the day and watching a movie until bed time.