Blogging Like It's 2006

When your partner looks at you across the breakfast table and says, “You aren’t being authentic” while you’re eating pancakes, it feels like a knife in the heart.

First of all, my soul is made of pancakes so I was as authentic as I could possibly be in that moment.

Second of all, since my authentic self has a wildly unhinged sense of humor and a lot of feelings - and I’ve been trying to keep a lid on a lot of that lately - I guess it’s true.

I’ve definitely fallen prey to some of those misguided “I am an adult and thus must be a perfect reflection of society’s construct of a responsible human” beliefs. Pro tip: Don’t do that. I’d much rather be a free range weirdo.

Our conversation about authenticity was actually in reference to my work and my writing. Since my job for the past number of years has basically been “help people get their shit together” (albeit in an unconventional way), I’ve felt like I need to have my shit together. Since I don’t have my shit together - at least not in the socially acceptable way - I haven’t wanted to talk about it, which has hamstrung my ability to communicate and share in the way I used to and really enjoyed.

I haven’t wanted to write about my real experience, because my real experiences don’t feel like something you can have if you’re also attempting to help other people. Yes, I hear all the things wrong with that sentence.

While I did have it together in the culturally-conditioned way - good job, paying rent on a house, etc - in my twenties, my older self has her shit together in a more real way. Less social currency, but more ability to function in a way that works for me and my brand of peculiarities. My older self is more, one might even say, authentic.

Maybe I also stopped because I thought I had to outgrow my weird, unhinged self the way I once thought I had to abandon cartoon t-shirts on the altar of being a mature adult.

Since I still wear t-shirts with llamas riding bicycles, maybe I get to reclaim my unhinged writing style. While I’ve become (arguably) more authentic to myself and who I am and what I want and need, my writing has become less so.

Really, I just want to return to the wildly unhinged blogging days of yore, when it was 2006 and we weren’t worried about branding or selling or SEO or anything much beyond LET ME TELL YOU WHAT MY DOG JUST DID. NOW I’M WRITING A RESUME FOR MY DOG. HERE’S MY DOG IN HIS BEST WORK ATTIRE, NOW FIELDING OFFERS and then posting a picture of your dog in a tie?

Remember those halcyon blogging days? I want those back. Because that style of writing was fun and endorphinizing and helped me write myself to answers, answers my current self could really use. It felt really true to me, in a way the current style - at least the style I’ve adopted - doesn’t.

I just want to write about my nonexistent dog in a nonexistent tie.

Whatever happened, most of my writing over the past few years has been sadly hinged, rather than gleefully unhinged.

Yesterday’s solar eclipse was smack dab over my midheaven - meaning, big changes are coming in my career. I’ve been feeling this for weeks - the chaos is real, my friends - and thusfar it seems to mean returning to the way I used to write.

Do we have to share all the messy parts of our lives in order to be authentic? That gong you hear is a resounding no from the universe. Do we have to be sanitized versions of ourselves to help other people? That’s another big no gong.

But here’s the thing: For whatever reason, I can’t get there. I don’t seem able to write the way I want to without sharing the mess in a way that I won’t do if I’m doing my current work.

Honestly, I feel a little betrayed by the fact that I’m not going to know what yesterday’s eclipse did to my career and writing for quite awhile yet. I want to know now. I want to know if the only way I can go back to being Unhinged Amber is to shut down my business. I want to know if I just need to scale way back so I have the time and energy and don’t feel the need to present myself in any particular way, but can still do the work I do love doing in many respects.

Or do I just need to find a job and focus on unhinged blogging and writing my books in my off hours?

I don’t know. But maybe if I keep writing whatever I want to write, those answers will come.

How To Get Writing

Your book is ready for you. The question is, Are you ready for your book?

If you aren’t ready to write, if you’re not feeling it, if you’re procrastinating, if you’d rather be doing other things, here’s how to dive into that novel draft (or any other writing):

Give yourself the time you need.

Feeling behind, feeling like there's not enough time, is a recording your brain made by listening to someone else. Your soul knows there’s plenty of time.

Unless you’re dying and you really want to finish the novel. In that case, just get to work.

Otherwise, give yourself some space. Don’t chain yourself to the desk. Let writing be a joy, rather than a task.

Let yourself feel your feels.

Whenever I experience writer’s block, it’s usually because there’s an emotion that’s clogging up the pipeline. Once I let myself feel it, the words start to flow.

Move your body.

Inspiration flows through the physical body, not just the mind. Do some stretches. Get on yoga YouTube. Go for a walk. Do any kind of physical activity that sounds good right now and see what appears.

Take a shower.

Showers always work for me. I step out clean and with either the next place to go in my writing or the understanding that now is not the time and I get to either rest or do something else. So helpful, that bathroom.

ASK FOR inspiration.

This blog post almost didn’t happen. I aim for both structure and inspiration in my business writing. (My current structure is an email to my list every Monday, a blog post right here every Wednesday, and a personal story on Patreon every Friday.) But I don’t like to force myself to write when I’m not feeling it. Writing is a joy to me and I don’t ever want it to become something else if I can possibly avoid it. Plus, forced writing rarely seems to do well or feel good to anyone.

However, no blog post was showing up for today. Hence, a pickle.

So I set the intention that the perfect blog post arrive in my brain with enough time for me to write it. I literally just thought, “I set the intention …”, and started doing something else with a big, fat “WE’LL SEE” rumbling through my uninspired brain.

Lo and behold, twenty minutes later, here I am. Typing up a post that arrived easily in my brain, and I have just enough time to press publish before I need to leave the house.

Thank you, requested inspiration, for un-pickleing me today!

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Want some help un-pickleing your writing?

I help writers bust through blocks and get their books onto the page!

How To Use the Moon

If you sometimes feel weird and unmoored or exhausted and emotional without knowing why, I have a theory for you:

You’re sensitive to the moon.

We’re deeply connected with the movement of the moon, our planet, and the universe in a way that doesn’t get talked about nearly enough in our culture, unless you happen to follow hashtag moon on Instagram.

If your moods and energetic ups and downs often feel like a mystery, learning about the moon can be deeply supportive.

As a sensitive human and triple Cancer, I feel the moon big time.

When our friend the moon is in void, it can leave me feeling cranky and emotional and unsure of everything in my life. Because I know that the void moon can make an unsuspecting human feel uncertain, I took myself off for some self-care at the chiropractor and the coffeeshop during the last long void moment. (Which worked, until I spilled my coffee all over the front seat of my car.) When the moon came out of void, I immediately felt better.

When in doubt, blame the moon.

(Blaming things on the moon is one of my favorite activities even as I remind myself that I’m an empowered human and fully in charge of my own experience, no matter what the world and universe around me are doing. Recognizing what’s affecting us while also taking full responsibility for our lives is a balancing act.)

Now, the void moon isn’t always going to be a royal snit show of crankiness and questioning everything and spilled coffee. But if you’ve been over-extending yourself, the void moon and the water moon will make that very clear. In fact, that’s one of the only things that will be clear during the void moon - how well you’ve been taking care of yourself.

In order to harness the power of the moon to support yourself, your life, and your dreams, here are some tips:

How To Use The Moon

Working with the energy of the moon and planets deeply supports us in the ebbs and flows of life, especially in a culture that wants us to be flowing always and ebbing never. Moving with the moon supports us in resting and nourishing ourselves as much as it supports us in moving toward our goals and dreams.

Because the moon is so close to the earth compared to the other planets, it changes signs every two to three days. Each week the moon moves through a fire sign, an earth sign, an air sign, and a water sign - in that order. Some signs are best for rest. Some signs are best for getting things done. Some signs are good for chilling out. Each time the moon changes signs, it goes through what we call a void moon. Sometimes the void moon lasts a few minutes, sometimes it lasts an entire day.

Here’s a basic primer on the moon signs:

How to use a fire moon: The fire moon is the time for action. You’ll likely be feeling fiery and raring to go - especially if you rested during the previous water moon. During a fire moon, you will probably feel that zip needed to accomplish things you may have been putting off. If you run a business, it’s a good time to call people to action. It’s a good time to start things, and a good time to make massive progress.

Used wisely, the fire moons are a wonderful ally to your productivity.

How to use an earth moon: After the high energy of the fire moon, the earth moon offers a bit of a respite. The energy dips - you can still be productive, but you’ll want to do so by giving yourself rest and breaks and treats. During the fire moons, you maybe running hither and yon and knocking things off your to-do list left and right.

During earth moons, you can get things done, but you might be happier doing so huddled up in blankets the couch.

How to use an air moon: Air moons offer another rise in energy. You will probably feel chattier during the air moons - it’s a good time to talk, reach out to friends and family, share things on social media, and talk about things that are important to you.

There’s a lot of movement during an air moon, so this is another good time to get things done and move with speed and agility toward what you want.

How to use the water moon: This is a time to take things more slowly. To feel more than do. To rest and go with the flow and take it easy. If you’re in any phase of burnout, you’ll want to rest as much as possible.

If you rest during the water moon, you’ll have the energy you need to take advantage of the fire moon.

How to use the void moon: Don’t start things - especially fights. If you have a business, this is a good time to step back and do things behind the scenes. If you’re tired, this is a good time to rest. Otherwise, void moons are best for taking care of the more mundane aspects of life - laundry, grocery shopping, self-care. Self-care is actually one of the best things to do during this phase - get out into nature, journal, meditate, get a massage, read a book.

However you most enjoy taking care of yourself, doing so at this time can help you avoid feelings of uncertainty or discombobulation.

Using the moon to guide the rhythm of your days and your effort can be a beautiful way to regulate energy, heal or avoid burnout, and create in a way that is deeply aligned with your body.

How to Use the Moon To Rest

If you feel tired in your day-to-day life, if it feels like you’re heading toward burnout, these are the moments to pay attention to and devote to rest and relaxation:

When the moon is void, rest.

When the moon is in a water sign, rest.

When the moon is in its balsamic phase, rest.

Resting can look many different ways. Maybe you have the freedom to plan your time so that you can watch movies and nap during these moments. (Even if you don’t have that freedom, do your best to snatch all the rest you can during the balsamic moon, the three to four days before the new moon.)

Maybe these are the days to go to bed early or to not plan to do anything more than absolutely necessary. Maybe these are the days to tell your brain to take a hike when it natters on about your to-do list.

How I use the moon to manage my life

I love hearing about people use this kind of information in their real lives, rather than just reading the factoids. So here’s how I use the moon:

Before I start to plan my time each week, I take a look at my moon app (I use iLuna). I note what days are in what signs, paying special attention to the void moon. If I have any business-y things to announce or sell, I do it in the fire moon. I note where the water moons live so that if I’m feeling tired, I leave a lot of space to rest and take it easy on those days. If there’s a long void moon, I plan to stay away from work if possible and do life-y things if I have the energy, or rest if I don’t.

I do my best to take the three or four days of the balsamic moon off each month. I keep the balsamic moon phase in my main calendar, so I always know when it’s coming. For years, I would crash for about three days a month and have no idea why, because it didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason. When I started paying attention to the moon, I realized, “Oh. Balsamic Moon. That’s when I crash.” So now I plan to crash - or at least rest with all my might - and it’s fabulous.

Paying attention to the moon in this way has helped me recover from burnout and use the cycles of my energy properly so that I can live my life in a way that feels good, rather than stressed and harried.

We’re re-learning how to replenish ourselves in a world that practically demands burnout, a world that wants us to be in full bloom all the time. Using the moon to guide your rest and your work is a powerful way to support your life, your work, and your dreams.

xo - Amber

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CoWriting with the Moon

If you’re a writer - or a person who has writing to do on a weekly basis: emails! journaling! sales copy! newsletters! - and would love to play with the phases of the moon in your writing practice, I’d love to have you join us in CoWriting with the Moon!

It’s sacred space to write in community. Dedicated time for your book. Reserved space to batch your content. A place to journal yourself to comfort and answers. Time to plow forward on your works-in-progress.

Whatever writing you want or need to do, this is the place.

“I got more done in this session than in the last two months combined!” - Phoebe

“I finally wrote a scene in a book that I haven’t worked on in months!” - Mikael

“Wow! I got so much accomplished. I will definitely be joining now that I know how fabulous it is.”  - Sarah

How To Hear Your Intuition

Honestly, I still expect my intuition to sound like a choir of angels or a trumpet from the backseat of a Cadillac convertible.

Sometimes it does. Sometimes I need something with a little heft and a little neon. Sometimes intuition is really clear.

But most of the time, my intuition sounds like most of the other little voices in my head. “Take an umbrella.” “Don’t go to that thing tonight.” “Now that you’ve decided not to go to that thing tonight, do go to that thing tonight. Oh, and you need to leave right now.”

Listening to your intuition, to that little voice in your head that speaks more softly than your doubt, more comfortably than your strident logic, is the learning process of a lifetime.

It can feel muddy. Because the intuition voice often does sound like the other voices. The voices of our parents. Of our teachers. Of friends. Of society. Of people who may or may not know what you need or may or may not have your best interests in mind. Those other internal voices that may be your ego or your logic.

But we can hone our intuition just like we’d hone any other skill: with attention and practice.

How to Hear Your Intuition

Here are two of my favorite ways to strengthen intuition:

1. Quiet your mind.

2. Take note of all the voices and messages that might be intuition.

When we can quiet our brains, allow our spinning thoughts to rest, our intuition comes through more clearly. Because it’s not trying to compete with so many other voices. The more you quiet your brain, the more powerfully your intuition will come through.

Learning to hear and follow your intuition simply requires practice.

One of the things I tell my clients is to write down thoughts they think might be intuition. You don’t have to follow it yet, just take notes. Take note of all those moments that might be intuition. Notice which ones keep repeating themselves. Take note of what happens when you follow that voice that you think might be your intuition, and what happens when you don’t.

Your intention, attention, and practice will help the voice of your intuition become crystal clear.

Viewing intuition as practice - rather than something we either can do or can’t do - is so sweet. We don’t need to be spiritual perfectionists who follow our intuition infallibly. Instead, we’re gathering information. Listening to see how that voice sounds, what it says, how it does and doesn’t sound like the other voices in our heads.

A little practice and you’ll begin distinguishing it with ease.

Last Friday, Brandon’s intuition told him to leave work early. It said, “Go home, you’re not going to get anything else done today.”

He didn’t listen. He let his logic - the voice that says things like “You can’t just leave work early, you need money, slackers leave work early” - override his intuition. Later that night he came home frustrated because, thanks to a confluence of events, he got nothing done and would have been much better served by a nice afternoon at home.

While that doesn’t make for the perfect Friday, it was good information. He heard the voice, he knew it was intuition, he didn’t listen, and he saw what happened. That experience helped build his intuition muscle memory. That experience made it just that much easier to listen and follow the intuitive voice next time.

As we pay attention to what happens when we do listen to our intuition and what happens when we don’t, we start to see and feel how beautifully we’re being guided all day every day.

One more thing to remember about intuition:

Intuition feels no need to be consistent.

Rather than telling you what’s true or what’s “right,” your intuition will tell you what you need to hear.

Which is one of the reasons things can get so confusing.

Me: “But you said not to do that thing tonight?”

Intuition: “Yes, because I didn’t want you to worry about it all day!”

Me: “But now you’re saying I do need to do that thing tonight? And, in order to be on time, I need to leave right now even though I still have to shower?”

Intuition: “Yes! What fun motion and momentum, right?”

Me: [growls] [dives into the shower] [drives into the city and has a great time]

Most importantly, there’s no way to miss what your soul is telling you. There’s no right way to do things and no wrong way to do things. If you miss one message, your soul will send another. If you don’t listen, the messages will get louder.

Eventually, you’ll hear what your soul is telling you. And the more you practice listening to the voice of your intuition and doing what it says (logic and the voice of society bedamned), the faster that process will go. :)

Lots of love,

Amber

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P.S. If you enjoyed this, you’ll love my newsletter! Give it a try here.

P.P.S. If learning to hear your intuition and follow your own internal GPS is something you’d like to explore, I created something to help. Read about it here.

Why I Don't Drink Any More

Title Correction: Why I Try Not To Drink Any More

Before anyone goes all Yoda “do or do not, there is no try” on me, allow me to say this:

Sometimes people have birthdays. It’s a mark of respect to the birthday human to drink with them. Because of this belief,* other people’s birthdays are my downfall. At this point, this is pretty much the only exception. (I’m trying to remember if I drank on my birthday. Oh, yup. I did. Because I am also a human who deserves respect.) (Oh, there was also a little drinking after a family reunion. And during a dinner with friends to thank us for watching their cats. Fine, birthdays are usually the only exception.)

*Like all beliefs, this may or may not be true and may or may not serve me.

All this to say, I celebrated a friend’s birthday on Wednesday and OH HOW IT WAS CELEBRATED. Thursday Amber paid for Wednesday Amber’s choices. It also prompted me toward this topic again, especially in the wake of some effort spent lately trying to understand why I react the way I do in certain situations.

Weird thing about drinking that I’ve noticed for myself: If I am going to drink, it’s far better to do so during the first half of my cycle than the second. Obviously, for my brain and general health never drinking is the best option, more on that in a minute, but in terms of mood and The Regretting of Life Choices, drinking in the follicular and ovulation stages are far better than drinking in the luteal or, heaven forfend, the PMS stage. (PMS is not an official stage, as it turns out. But wow, do I feel it when I drink then.)

Anyway.

To the Reasons I Don’t Do My Best Not To Drink Any More

We have a history of alcoholism in my family. Pretty much all Gen Xers do, right? Because our parents grew up in the 1950s, when drinking was the coping mechanism of choice / the actual only coping mechanism. So many of our parents were raised by alcoholics or, if we don’t want to call them alcoholics, then “people who celebrated the end of the work day with a cocktail or two or seven.”

People raised by alcoholics will have trauma. This is fact.

When you’re raised by an alcoholic, one of two things will probably happen:

1. You will follow the behavior demonstrated to you as a child, and become an alcoholic.

2. You will observe the behavior demonstrated to you as a child, decide you want absolutely no part of that nonsense, and do your utmost NOT to become an alcoholic.

Both of my parents chose Door Number Two. Let’s give them a round of applause, because choosing Door Number Two in those days was basically down to sheer willpower.

Here’s where it gets weird, and this is the part that seems to be less well understood as of yet.

If people have untreated trauma, they will pass it down to their children.

As far as I can tell, this is the only explanation for me and how I am.

According to the mental health professionals at Kaiser, I have cPTSD.

There is no real reason for me to have PTSD, aside from the fact that I have a super sensitive nervous system. I had a nice childhood - well-loved, secure, opportunities like piano lessons (which I did not appreciate) and the college of my choice (which I did). I was also lucky to never experience violence or accidents or war, or any of the other things the traditional trauma model recognizes.

Privilege plus luck does not equal PTSD. Except when it does.

I’ve also lived a life. Breakups, sudden moves, a miscarriage, getting fired from jobs, financial instability. As we’re coming to understand trauma, or at least what I call subtle trauma, these things contribute. But my symptoms seem to pre-date any of these experiences I had as an adult. It’s even possible that they contributed.

To be clear, this is not to blame my parents or my childhood for anything or to avoid taking responsibility. It’s to illustrate that things are considerably less clear cut than most of us have been led to believe, especially when it comes to family systems and what we inherit from our parents and previous generations.

I have a great deal of respect for my parents, I believe they did an extraordinary job with what they had and made big leaps within one generation. My father especially took a truly traumatic and often terrible childhood and turned it around as best he could for his children and for his younger siblings. Sure, a therapist could (and did) say a lot of things about him, but I think he and my mother both did a great job, all things considered.

Here’s the thing:

Untreated trauma gets passed on to the next generation. I believe I have PTSD because my parents did, because they grew up with alcoholic fathers, and had to muscle through because the late twentieth century didn’t have the tools that we do in the early twenty-first. I suspect they didn’t know they had trauma. Even if they suspected, they wouldn’t have had the tools to treat it.

We have the tools now, but they’re often hard to come by. Mental health coverage within most insurance plans is sketchy at best. Going private is often much more effective (oh, the things I would spend lots of money on), but is inaccessible to all but the top few. By all measurements, I’m in a tip top percentage of lucky humans and a lot of what I need is currently inaccessible to me. This is why I end up in the etheric healing realms. BECAUSE THEY ARE FREE. (Ha!) But that’s a rant for another day.

Because I have a family history of alcoholism, my genes are constantly trying to lure me in that direction. This is where my extra sensitive nervous system is a help and a hindrance. It’s a help because I know when I’m starting to go a bit too far down the alcohol path. It’s a visceral feeling and an intuitive knowing. It’s a hindrance because when your nervous system is overwhelmed or totally shot, you veer in the direction of numbing - sugar, television, alcohol, drugs. (I have never allowed myself to go anywhere near drugs for this very reason. I cannot be trusted. Or at least my delicate peony nervous system can’t be.)

Why I Do my best to drink as little as possible:

Alcohol does bad things to your brain.

Alcohol screws with your gut, which is your second brain.

Both of those facts mean that alcohol can really affect your mood and life.

And…alcoholics in a family can seriously mess with that family, down through every generation until it’s dealt with.

I’m the generation that has to deal with it, and frankly it’s a pain in my ass.

Healing PTSD is a thing. Being vigilant about any kind of alcohol consumption is a thing. Learning how to feel what I learned early to repress is a thing. Learning how to soothe myself and not make any lasting decisions while in an activation loop is a thing. Learning how to not react the way I really want to react is a thing. Learning how to heal things that aren’t mine but have been passed down through my family line, from my parents’ generation to many generations before that, is a thing.

THERE ARE JUST SO MANY THINGS.

When I have a drink, even just one, my mood and thought patterns and decision-making ability will be adversely affected for at least three days. My partner and I are more likely to fight, and that fight is more likely to not go well.

(This is a little less likely to happen in the first half of my cycle and almost certain to happen in the second half of my cycle, which I find fascinating.)

Essentially, alcohol fucks with my health - mental, physical, and emotional - and it does my life zero favors. Except when I’m dancing in the back of a car in San Francisco on the way to a birthday dinner in that sweet moment of buzz hours before the repercussions begin. That’s the moment people drink for and, yes, it is fun.

Alcohol is a coping mechanism, pure and simple, in a world where coping is far more available than real healing.

If I have any mission in life, helping the shift from coping to healing is probably it. But I’m still trying to get my own house in order, healing my own shit and doing the healing for my family that has apparently been assigned to me and trying not to make too many messes in the meantime. Maybe the only way I can help the world in this is by helping myself.

If you’ve been wondering why you seem to have a lot of trauma and you’re not sure why, you aren’t alone. If you’ve been noticing that alcohol fucks with your week or your life, that you’re not alone.

If you’re keeping an eagle eye on your substances because things go way south when you don’t, fist bump. If you’re healing things from your family, fist bump. If you’re healing your own things, fist bump.

If you’re excited for the moment when coping shifts to healing shifts to thriving… me too, friend.

xo - Amber

Happiness Asks, Joy Gives

Yesterday, I went to a birthday party. There was a pool, there was a barbecue, there were palm trees and cacti, and children running amok.

While you can’t accurately judge a person’s happiness based on observing them at a party, a lot of them looked happy. There was talk of the next baby, the next home, the next job. Which I think adds to happiness, because it isn’t necessarily a measure of not being where you want to be, but a measure of your expansion.

Humans live to evolve and expand and get excited about what’s next.

Because I like to sit alone on sunny outdoor couches at parties, I spent some time watching other people’s (perceived) happiness and thinking about what would make me happy. Getting a dog, my pilot’s license, getting out amongst humans more - something I’ve always been a bit tentative about, a tendency that tripled during the pandemic and my own health challenges. Shoes may have entered the thought process. My first word was shoes and nothing makes me happier than putting on brand new pink flats, don’t judge me. But I know these things in and of themselves won’t make me happy.

Happiness lies in my response to these things. Happiness lies in my attention to these things and my enjoyment of them.

Happiness isn’t a destination, happiness is a series of joyful moments that we string together over a lifetime, no matter what else is going on in our lives.

Joy is always available.

Even if you have two dollars in the bank, even if dreams don’t come true, even if people are being deeply annoying.

Joy is always an option. But it requires attention. Awareness. An ability to be in a moment, really in it, not thinking about the next thing or whatever’s on your plate at the moment.

When I stopped being alone in the sun because other people began to realize that I am the best at choosing spots to be and came to join me, we started talking about happiness - what it means, what it looks like.

Honestly, happiness feels like a loaded word to me. Possibly because I’m American and “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” has been etched on my brain. Like happiness is something to be chased down, lassoed, and dragged back to your lair on the end of a rope.

Joy feels easier. Because moments of joy are always there for the taking: a daisy busting up through the concrete, a dog licking someone’s face, a skateboarder doing something crazy on a fast moving plank before wiping out at the stop sign.

Joy doesn’t depend on achieved dreams or overcome challenges, it’s there in every moment like a gift the world is trying to give you. You get to choose whether you accept it or not.

For some, happiness is having kids. For some, happiness is not having kids. For some, happiness is achieving the financial security necessary to live a simple life. For some, happiness requires certain substances.

Happiness asks, joy gives.

Happiness, at least the way I hear the word, requires that certain conditions be met. Joy appears unexpectedly, out of nowhere, like a cat jumping on the bed when you thought it was outside chasing humming birds or those humming birds buzzing by the window on their way to visit the roses.

I want to dedicate my life to joy, instead of happiness. Happiness just feels stressful. It requires a certain amount of money and has quite the list of conditions. Joy gets to happen right now because there’s bacon in the kitchen and it’s sunny outside. Technically, those are also conditions, but it’s a much lower bar. Happiness requires years of work for uncertain pay-off.

Joy will give you everything it has right now, just because you exist.

The Many and Varied Uses of Imaginary Jellybeans

I’m not sure how to tell this story without sounding crazy, but if I worried about sounding crazy I'd never open my mouth. So here we go.

On Sunday, I was hiking. It was a beautiful day, with a view of the ocean, verdant valleys, and happy cows (also peeing cows) dotting the hills beside the trail. I wasn’t having any of it. I was tired, I was cranky, and I wasn’t interested in anything related to living life at that time.

As I trudged up and down hike-related peaks and valleys, I finally got over myself enough to ask “How can I have a better time than I’m currently having?” Because I finally remembered that I do have some element of control over how I live my life. Maybe I can’t control the peeing cow, but I can certainly control how much I enjoy this actually very nice Sunday situation in which I find myself.

(Very nice Sunday situation.)

So I asked “How can this [general hand wave in the direction of life] feel better?”

Nothing happened. Because I was cranky, I didn’t really expect it to.

But as I focused on not thinking thoughts and instead on enjoying the view and the way the air felt on my skin, I started to shift out of crankiness and into neutrality and then some semblance of pleasure.

After a bit more plodding through the landscape, something opened up. Maybe I stumbled through a fairy glen or my whimsical brand of imagination fired up or guidance stepped in, I can’t say. And it doesn’t really matter. As I was walking, I got handed a silver basket full of jellybeans. Not the grocery store-corn syrup-red dye number death brand of jellybeans. These were fairy jellybeans. Some were midnight blue speckled with silver stars. Some were that particular turquoise of tropical island ocean. Some were peony pink. And I heard, “You can eat this one for calmness, this one for joy, this one to fall asleep, this one for more money, this one for creative inspiration, this one for delight,” and so on.

So I chose the imaginary jellybean that would help me get over myself and start enjoying my Sunday afternoon hike. I imagined eating it, and the fairy jellybean energy filling me up. It wasn’t like a miracle bean, where suddenly I was skipping through the hills and thrilled with life. But by the end of the hike, I was feeling much better. The day shifted into something absolutely lovely, including my favorite pizza and a really nice glass of wine that I got to drink in the sun. My week since has been significantly better than the week previous.

My point is, whether you believe in angelic support or guidance or your inner wisdom or the support of the universe or the power of your imagination, you always have access to a shift in perspective. You can always adjust how you view and experience things - all you have to do is ask, and trust that the answer will come. Whether that answer comes in the form of a silver basket filled with magic fairy jellybeans or something more prosaic doesn’t matter.

Your imagination is the portal to a better experience. So this is me reminding myself - and you, if that’s helpful - to use it wisely.

How to Find Joy When The World is a Trash Fire

First things first: remembering that the world is not actually a trash fire.

We still have clean water that we can drink, bathe in, make coffee from. We still have food in the fridge, a roof over your head, something to love - whether that something is a person, a pet, a project, a new Netflix show.

We still have beautiful things to see, whether you can get in your car and go look at them in (masked) person or pour over your pictures or search the internet for stunning pictures other people have taken.

There are always good people in the world, people doing their best to love and make things and rest and take care of others and show up in powerful ways that are for the good of humanity. Those people always exist. If you’re exhausted, you can look for the helpers. If your tank is full, you can be the helper. In whatever way suits you and your disposition. (There are as many ways to help as there are people on this planet.)

It’s easy to get caught up in what’s going on out there, but we have to step back - turn off the news, turn off the twitter, turn off the external voices - for significant periods of time so that our nervous system can calm the F down, so we can take care of ourselves, our people, our pets, our homes. Tend the creative fire. Slow your brain. Give yourself plenty of space to rest and sleep and make nice, nourishing meals. Bonus round: using the cloth napkins reserved for company BECAUSE YOU DESERVE NICE NAPKINS TOO. And also, no one’s really having company right now.

Tending to your joy looks like choosing a thought that feels a little better than the one you’re thinking right now.

Examples:

“The world is a goddamn trash fire.” —> “I have what I need, I see where people are helping, I am going to do whatever I can today to take care of myself.”

“I’m worried about money.” —> “I always have what I need and often have a lot of what I want and I trust that will continue.”

“I’m worried about a loved one’s health.” —> “Everyone has their own journey and who am I to say that their life journey is wrong?”

(I know it’s tempting to punch someone when they use the word “journey” in relation to health, whether it’s yours or a loved one’s, but 1) when my dad died it genuinely helped to remember that he has his own life path and maybe I shouldn’t judge it because it wasn’t what I wanted and 2) you can always use a different word.)

Tending to your joy looks like moving your body, in the fresh air if possible.

This is not a revolutionary concept, but it’s so easy to forget how good it feels to take a walk in the trees, to swing your arms and breathe the chilly air, and feel ideas spring to life while listening to some good music.

I say that as I’m planning to skip today’s walk, because its gloomy and it’s the balsamic moon and I haven’t been resting much. (The three or four days right before the new moon is a good time to plan rest and avoid pushing yourself.)

Tending to your joy looks like doing whatever feels fun right now. If fun feels like a stretch, doing whatever feels like a giant wheeze of relief.

When I’m facing down an epic to-do list (I’m learning how to not put so much damn pressure on myself but that cruise liner has been sailing for over forty years so it’s taking some time to turn in the choppy waters), it always helps to scan the list and ask myself “What feels like fun right now?” Or if fun is a stretch, “What can I do easily right now?”

If you need to rest, but you’re so hyped up on internet comments or so wracked with anxiety that the idea of going to sleep feels like asking your car to turn into a unicorn made of jellybeans, scan the options to see what feels best. Watching a Pixar movie? Reading a book? Listening to a meditation? Revisiting your favorite comedy special? Imagining your enemies getting paper cuts? Take whatever rest feels possible.

Tending to your joy looks like turning off anything that needs regular recharging.

We know this. But how often do we do it? I talk about it all the damn time, but it’s fairly rare that I take my phone and laptop and stick them in a closet for 24 hours. But whenever I do, I feel like I’ve been sprinkled with magic fairy dust. It makes it easier to relax, on every level. These days, turning off anything that emits light or has an opinion about the world is better than anti-anxiety medication. I know because I’ve tried both.

Joy can be found in any moment. Rest can be found in any moment. Ease can be found in any moment.

Fine, maybe not when you’re running from a stampeding warthog, but stampeding warthogs are rare enough that I feel comfortable committing that idea to writing.

Honestly, I didn’t really believe it myself until I experienced enough moments of relief and joy and ease in awful circumstances - parent dying, day after a breakup, etc - that I realized it is possible, especially when you have no choice but to surrender everything you think and hope for and understand. That’s when those moments of joy and relief creep in.

Surrendering - surrendering fear, worry, angst, fear, righteous indignation - often looks like choosing the next thought that feels better, the next thing that feels fun. Because doing that means you’re surrendering the old way of being, the way that says Reality Requires Suffering.

Suffering is not required. Surrendering is always possible. Joy can be found in a glass of water, a walk, a remote control. Joy can be found in letting yourself give up on something in favor of something that lights a fire in your blood. Or sounds vaguely better than that other thing.

Sometimes joy comes from committing to one step up from awful. Because if you keep climbing the staircase, you’ll get somewhere good.

Snake Patrol

I have a snake in my abdomen. 

It started out as a gnarly tar monster coiling around in my stomach, holding onto pain.

Yes, finding a multidimensional black tapeworm in your innards is just as much fun as it sounds.

I met my sticky tar snake in a therapy appointment when we were investigating some suppressed feelings, which is a thing you do in therapy and is also just as much fun as it sounds.

As we sat there on zoom, because pandemic appointments, I opened a door over my belly button for the snake to slither out, taking all the heavy blackness with it. I started feeling lighter and lighter and as the black smoke turned to gray fog and eventually dissipated, all that was left was a small silver snake.

My heavy black horror snake was actually this cute little silver snake bloated with suppressed emotion.

Now my little silver snake friend helps me monitor my energy - specifically, how much I’m absorbing from other people. Then he helps me boot it out of my system. I just have to check into my stomach and see what’s there. If it’s a little silver snake curled up in the corner, I’m good. If the silver snake is clouded by fog or storm clouds, I have some stuff to let go of. If the snake is looking black or bloated, it’s time to do some clearing.

Often what feels heavy and overwhelming, like it would be a bad idea to poke with a stick, is simply something that was trying to help us out and got a little lost along the way. Maybe it took on more than it could handle. Maybe it needed some help and got ignored. Maybe it just needed a rest.

Sometimes monsters turn cute when you give them some love and attention.

Recoding Codependence

In six months, I went from not being sure what the word “codependent” even meant to realizing that unbridled codependence riddled every aspect of my existence.

Here’s what codependence boils down to in my experience: Needing someone else to be okay so that you can be okay.

My codependent tendencies exploded in my face when I moved in with my boyfriend. Sharing a home with a partner will shine a massive search light on any hidden proclivities for Needing Everyone Else To Be In a Great Mood and Also Not Mad At Me Before I Can Feel Safe. Yikes.

Here’s the problem with that: When we put all our power and happiness and wellbeing in the hands of someone else, even someone who loves us, we are as doomed as the Stark family in Game of Thrones.

Because even when that person has our best interests at heart, they have their own life and issues and happiness to attend to - they can’t be on the hook for ours too.

I've spent the last six months wresting all of my relationships from the grip of my codependent patterns and yes, it’s just as much fun as it sounds. Nothing escaped this pattern, not my relationship with my boyfriend, my family, my friends, my business, my clients. I was even being codependent with the universe.

If you’re wondering how codependence with the universe sounds, picture this being shrieked into the infinite starry void:

WHY AREN’T YOU GIVING ME WHAT I NEED? I’M DOING EVERYTHING I CAN, SO MAKE THINGS BETTER ALREADY! COME ON, UNIVERSE!

I’ll say it again: Yikes.

My codependence was flavored with a savior complex, resentment, and more than a few pity parties. Honestly, this has kind of torched my life. Because no one wants to be around that, let me tell you. I didn’t even want to be around it.

Here’s Codependence Zinger #1: It all comes from a good place. (Except maybe all those pity parties. Calm down, Amber.)

We want others to be happy. We want to help and will often do so at the expense of our own wellbeing.

I wanted my boyfriend to be happy, so I bent over backward to tend to his mood, which mostly just pissed both of us off. Our relationship didn’t improve until my mantra became AMBER’S NUMBER ONE! AMBER’S NUMBER ONE! (He gets to be number one too, so it works out.)

Here’s Codependence Zinger #2: Our culture rewards codependence.

We’re praised for putting other people’s happiness above our own. We’re lauded for being responsible and productive human beings, something that's often at the expense of our own health and happiness. This is what Good People do.

My wild ride through the thickets of codependence makes sense: I needed to come into a fuller experience of my own power and my own ability to self-source, without relying on my boyfriend or my friends or my clients or the universe to make me feel better or confident or loved or safe. This is a big part of my work and what I teach, and so I need to be a goddamn master at it. Sometimes when you’re blazing a trail, you get slapped in the face with branches.

Because everything we want and need - safety, confidence, power, abundance, love - comes from within us. Which is both a relief and an annoyance because “you already have everything you need!” (whew, okay) but also “hey! then why doesn’t it feel like it?”

Catching codependent patterns is like unraveling a rainbow sweater by only pulling out the red yarn and leaving the rest of the sweater intact. It’s not easy. I had to get help from someone who knows her way around addiction and codependence. I spent months relentlessly catching my patterns and recoding my brain to recognize myself as worthy of all the attention I was sending outside of myself, learning to fill my own cup so I could give from the overflow rather than being a parched husk of a vessel that’s no good to anyone.

Yes, it’s a lot of work. And I get to keep working on it, so wily codependence doesn’t sneak back in on a technicality.

But the reward is being happy, no matter what’s going on around me. Or at least at peace, if happiness is a bit of a stretch that day. Just because my boyfriend has a bad day doesn’t mean I need to have a bad day or fret for hours about what I’ve done wrong. Just because my business is going through transition doesn’t mean I need to suffer. Just because the world is going through seismic shifts doesn’t mean I need to destroy my mental health.

Who knew that making "ME FIRST" the mantra would fix everything in my life? No, this particular mantra probably isn't the answer for everyone, but if you’re reading this, it may be the answer for you.

ME FIRST GODDAMNIT has upgraded every aspect of my life. It’s healed my relationships, including my relationship with myself and the divine, it’s healing my business, my body, and my relationship with money. It's amplifying my self-esteem and my work in the world, and it just feels better.

Ideally, I’d wrangle up some snappy ending to reward you for making it through this epic number of paragraphs, but I’d rather go make some tea and watch the sunrise, so ME FIRST!

Seven lessons from five years of running an intuitive business

(Said lessons are wildly applicable to all life paths, in case you're wondering why you clicked on this post.)

Eyes on your own paper. 

When I first started, I didn't do it the way anyone else did it. I did things the way I wanted to do them - channel everything on the spot instead of planning? Perfect. Announce multiple things at a time because that's the way they're flowing through my brain? Done. 

I wasn't looking at anyone else, I wasn't doing it the way anyone else was doing it, and it felt so good. Until I started looking at other people's instagram accounts. Until I got onto a few email lists. I stopped focusing on the process that felt best to me and started to feel like I needed to Learn Things From People Who Knew Better Than I. This would have been fine, except that instead of cherry-picking the lessons I needed, I began to doubt the way I was doing things.

We do things differently because we're meant to do things differently. There are people who need things done the way I do them, who need to hear things the way I say them, who need the energy I blaze out. So I get to do it however the hell I want. So do you. 

Charge whatever you need to show up from a place of excitement and nourishment. 

Don't charge the industry standard (whatever that is), don't charge what you think people will pay, charge what you need to do the work you do. Historically, I have been terrible at this. Or, more accurately, I've been great at the excitement but not so hot at the nourishment. Because I want everyone who wants to work with me to be able to. Because I want to help people even if, especially if, money is a challenge. Because money has so often been a challenge for me. 

Then I burned out so hard I could barely work for a year. Since then, I've had multiple come-to-Jesus moments with myself. Am I serious about doing this work? Am I serious about taking good care of myself? Am I serious about seeing the possibilities and transformation and magic that can happen when huge investments of energy, money, and time are made? Yes, yes, and yes. Yes even when it feels scary.

I made the commitment to myself to raise my prices in October to what nourishes me. (After sitting with that promise for a week, I've decided why wait until October?) Because healers need healers. Coaches need coaches. Women who work a lot need support. If you are in the business of supporting humans (which is every job ever), you need, require, and deserve whatever you need to do that work.

Charge what you need to be paid in order to do the work and show up from a place of excitement and overflow. That number may be uncomfortable. Do it anyway.

Self-care times a million. 

I'm embarrassed to admit this, but as someone who teaches women how to take better care of themselves, to nurture themselves, to treat themselves as sacred, I was often kinda bad at that. Practice what you preach, Amber. 

We're living through a time that calls for maximum self-care. Whatever it takes to keep your own cup filled, do that. No excuses. 

Commitment to self over outcome. 

Focusing on anything external pulls focus from where your true power lives. (Pro tip: Your power lives within you. Here's a little rant on that.) Here are some external things that actually deserve none of your attention: numbers of followers, numbers of likes, numbers in your bank account, things happening the way you wanted. Because they're actually none of your business. External response to your work is not your concern.

Controlling the way things happen in the work as a result of your work is not your job. Continuing to go within, feel the feelings of what you'd like to create, and then taking the next soul-led action - THAT is your job. Focus on shifting your internal experience in the direction that feels good and you can't fail. 

Don't do anything from a place of "I have to do this", do it from a place of "I can't wait to do this, I must do this, I must do this now, sorry dinner dishes you just lost your place in line." 

Why do I work for myself if I post something just because I think I have to? Doing things because you have to do them is terrible and soul-shrinking and we all wanted to leave that behind in elementary school. 

Honestly, everything is optional. Even the things that don't feel optional. You don't HAVE to pay your taxes, you just have to accept the consequences of not paying them. You don't HAVE to stop at that stop sign, you just have to accept the consequences of blowing through it. You don't HAVE to do those dishes, you just have to accept dirty dishes. 

When I do things in my business because I think I have to, they straight up do not work. When I do things from a place of OH MY GOD THIS! THIS IS THE THING RIGHT NOW! it doesn't matter whether it works or not, because I am in my creative genius flow. (Being in that place usually means it does work, but also means I don't feel too bothered either way.) 

Hint: If nothing feels good, nothing feels exciting, it's time to go back and fill your cup. Don't write the thing because you feel like you have to write the thing, go on a walk or watch Harry Potter or do whatever feels like a soul-sigh of relief and keep doing the soul relief things until you feel that inspiration and excitement fire back up. 

Go all in. 

For a long time, I was in the space of "Don't give up." Which is a very different flavor than "Go all in, energy blasters blazing."

Going all in is the energetic transformation that shifts the whole universe in your favor. 

Heal whatever you need to heal to get where you want to go. 

I had to heal an energy of scarcity going back many generations. I had to ground fully into my worth and the worth of this work. I had to heal societal constructs I had sucked up around what it means to be a healer (you have to heal everyone and you have to do it for free) and a woman. I had to heal my own rabid codependence. I had to heal my addiction to emotional drama and struggle and misery and lack. All this work is ongoing. I have to use all the tools I teach and channel more tools weekly to keep myself on track.

Heal your shit. Catch yourself when it bubbles back up and gently remind yourself that we don't do that anymore. 

Being a healer, an intuitive, a channel, a writer, a leader, a teacher, an entrepreneur, a lover of humans is not for the faint of heart. You already know this. But if you aren't quite sure - in this moment - if it's worth the effort, allow me to say: Yes. It's worth it. Keep going. Go all in, if you haven't already. Your soul is yearning for that commitment. 

Love, Amber 

Demanding Spirit Children

One of the things I do is talk to people who aren't exactly on this plane. Like my dad, teachers who died thousands of years ago, and friends' dogs. (Sometimes the dogs are still on this plane, but they don't speak English.)

One of the people I talk to occasionally is my daughter.

Yesterday, she said "Faster."

My daughter isn't even conceived yet and she's already demanding. That better not be what she says to me when I'm making her a smoothie or we'll be having a discussion.

Now, most adults with their feet firmly planted in reality would say that I don't have any business having a baby right now, for a variety of reasons. Many of those reasons I agree with, at least when I'm pretending to be an adult with firmly-planted reality feet.

But if we all stuck to what we think is possible, realistic, and responsible - what society has trained us to do and believe - nobody would ever get anything done, whether extraordinary or magically ordinary.

Maybe if we focus on what we really want, life rearranges around us to support it.

Just because we’ve been trained to belief that things must be done a certain way doesn’t mean there isn’t a whole universe of expansive possibilities, new ways to get what we really want, what would make our souls happy.

It’s not that I could never be happy without biological children. Life without children is great. Free time, travel, sleep, reading a novel cover to cover, parties with friends without securing a babysitter.

But I know that if I don’t at least try, no matter what the circumstances of my life, I will never forgive myself. I need to go after this desire as best I can and surrender the ultimate outcome to god/universe/flying spaghetti monster/whoever is up there. And trust that by devoting myself to this, my life will rearrange to support it in surprising ways.

All I know is that I can’t keep putting up barriers around what I really want. Because there is always a way. There’s always a way to have what you truly want, even if it doesn’t look the way you planned.

Hanging out with somebody else’s daughter.

Joy Is Knocking On the Door

Yesterday afternoon, I wrote up a business plan.

Yesterday evening, I wrote “FUCK THIS” across the whole thing in blue felt tip marker.

One of my themes lately is doing things because I think I should, not because they bring me any particular joy. 

Reframing the oatmeal to bring you joy is always a possibility - even if that doesn’t make it taste like a fresh chocolate croissant - but it takes some effort. If you’ve let the joy drain out of you for so long that you don’t really remember what joy feels like or why you should make that effort, you’re screwed. (Meaning, I've screwed myself over a bit.)

So I’ve been thinking about joy and how to have some.

One of the things I've noticed about joy is that it’s like working out. You can’t just target your arms and do a bunch of weight lifting and expect your arms to look amazing. You still have to eat nutritious things and do cardio and work on your whole physical self before you get to have amazing arms. Unless you’re 23 and can thrive on pizza and tequila shots and still look amazing, in which case don’t talk to me.

You can’t just say “Hey, I want joy.” You have to target your whole emotional body. You have to feel all the things. Now, this is for those of us who habitually repress. Joy can be one of the easiest things in the world - just look at a happy baby. But if joy is hard to find, you’re probably a feelings represser like me.

After my dad's death, I went through a few years of enforced feelings because none of my well-honed repression techniques were working any more. Anger and frustration joined the grief standby of crying on the floor. The up side of my dad’s death was that joy came more easily, because all feelings came more easily.

But I don’t think that means that having joy requires a whole lot of grief. Joy just asks you to feel all your feelings, not just the fun ones.

Babies can be little joy machines - and they haven’t had to plow through deaths and breakups and getting fired and whatever else life likes throwing you as an adult. Babies find joy in flinging oatmeal onto the walls. Babies find joy in yanking the dog’s fur.

Sure, babies can be jerks and some of that joy comes at the expense of the caretaker who has to scrub the oatmeal off the wall and the dog who has to hide under furniture until the yank stops smarting, but joy is joy.

Babies get that kind of joy because 1) someone else will clean up for them and 2) they’re taking care of their whole emotional selves. If a baby is unhappy, you will know. Everyone in earshot will know. They aren’t repressing anything, they don’t know how. So as often as they shriek with utter abandon in the grocery store, they’re just as often beaming out instantaneous and effervescent joy.

It's time for joy again. Because joy is necessary for humans - and it can fuel all the other things that need to happen too, the ones like job-hunting and weed-pulling and tough-conversation-having that don't necessarily scream "Hey, this will bring you deep and abiding joy!" but will ultimately make your life better. 

We don't even need to make it that complicated. Because, hey, meeting a new tree brings me great joy:

What To Do About Self-Doubt

I wanted to say “What to do about crippling, soul-sucking, anxiety-ridden self-doubt” but that seemed overly dramatic. But also not a bad description of where my self-esteem has been lately.

So I’m in a steady process of rebuilding my trust in myself and recalibrating my health - mental, physical, and emotional. Which has become quite a task, I don’t mind telling you.

I read French Women Don’t Get Fat and now we’re eating insane amounts of vegetables and whatever delicious meat is on sale at the market, plus a croissant on Saturday mornings because pastry is crucial to any French diet. I’m making sure I move my meat suit - either up the hill in the back of the house or through a yoga video or with those weights I always glare at. I’m trying to catch myself when I retrace my steps into the land of regret or stray toward the horizon of “oh my god, what’s going to happen next”. I’m not allowed to guilt myself or beat myself up or otherwise be a silent jerk.

Daily Trust Exercises (#DTE) have been instituted. That hash tag doesn’t represent some social media community of fellow trust brethren, it’s so I don’t have to write out all three words on every to-do list I write. Without that hashtag I would’ve already quit.

My first #DTE was “Get all your crap out of the hall, Amber.” After going through every single thing I own and deciding whether or not to keep it, I had a freshly re-organized office (bliss), an accidental capsule wardrobe (no more guilt over all those things I never wear), and a hall full of the random detritus I needed to get rid of post-cull. After staring at the hall o’ junk for a week, I decided that Day Number One of Amber Rebuilds Her Trust In Herself was going to feature getting all my shit out of that damn hall. And I did. (Mostly.)

Since my trust in myself would’ve plummeted straight into a fiery pit if I made it contingent on day-long escapades into Things I’ve Been Avoiding, I’ve made the subsequent #DTEs more manageable.

Currently, my daily “do the thing you say you’ll do when you say you’ll do it so you can trust yourself again” is meditation. Not my usual agenda-ridden meditation of “I want an answer to this question” or “make me feel better about this thing” or “tell me what my next business idea is and also how it will make money” because all that just stresses me out, which is contrary to the general theory and principle of meditation. Instead, my #DTE requires returning to meditation 1.0, aka Chill The Fuck Out And Let Your Brain Stop For a Hot Second.

I’m not very good at it.

But being good at it isn’t the point. Doing it is the point.

Slowly and surely, I’m learning to trust myself again. Trust myself to not be a flaming jerk to myself, trusting myself to do what I say I’ll do, trusting myself to do the things that help.

Climbing Off the Struggle Bus

This morning I was crying in bed, something that happens a lot, which could mean many things, but I like to think it means I’m listening to my therapist when he said “You need to cry every day.” He later added, “You need to be with a man who lets you cry on his shoulder,” which seems reasonable and I try to keep that in mind whenever the To Be With Or Not To Be With question presents itself.

So I was following my therapist’s wellness advice this morning and crying in bed on my boyfriend’s shoulder because I felt so overwhelmed.

Our two cats had long since vacated the premises (because I sneezed which, at this point in our collective history, means I’m either going to die or infect the world with coronavirus so I guess we can forgive the cats for fleeing), so it was just me, my tears, my boyfriend, his shoulder, and the posed question:

“What’s below the tears, overwhelm, and worry?”

After a lot of talk about money and work, and do we mean enough money to buy an island or enough to not worry about bills or food and also maybe get a massage every so often? (I seemed to come down on the side of the island and he came down on the side of Less Worry), I finally got to a nice tangled knot that needed unraveling.

Turns out, my ego and identity are based on struggle.

If I’m not struggling, I won’t exist.

All the things that make me a worthy human, all the things that make me me, require sacrifice and struggle. Writing, helping, making enough money to live where I want to live and do what I want to do - my brain has made it all very hard. Practically impossible. Certainly not going to happen any time soon. Which means that I am not me because I am struggling, but I can’t be me without the struggle.

If that doesn’t make any sense, don’t worry. Screwy belief systems rarely make sense in the bright light of day. What seems so pressing and real when it’s suppressed suddenly seems ridiculous when it becomes conscious.

So let’s just let the main point sink in for a moment: If I’m not struggling, I won’t exist.

Yes, that right there is belief system designed to result in a crappy life tied up in a bow.

It was kind of a lot for a Tuesday morning before coffee.

So I made coffee and climbed back in bed with my notebook and made a bunch of lists, which is the appropriate response to profound epiphanies like YOU WILL BE A SHELL OF A HUMAN UNLESS YOU ARE SUFFERING ALWAYS.

Ultimately, I decided that I need to treat my ego and her need to make us both miserable so that she can stay alive like a friend. A misguided friend, but one who has your best interests at heart even if she calls your boyfriend to break up with him for you and then calls your boss demanding to be fired. She meant well, she just wanted to save you pain, but she went about it in an ill-conceived manner.

Me and my ego sat at the beach for awhile (the beach in my head, not a real beach, because real beaches are closed right now so humanity can stay alive?) and we came to a new understanding. She can insist that suffering is vital and necessary and I can remind her that there are other options and maybe we can find them together.

She seems to like that. There’s a lot in the spiritual community about transcending your ego and wrestling it to the ground or eradicating it completely, but that seems to be missing the point. Your ego is just another part of you. You don’t have to let her run the show (stop it, Amber), but letting her speak her piece and then reminding her that there are other ways, ways that will make everyone happier, allows a wholeness and a gentleness that we all need right now.

When Things Feel Better and It's Confusing

My anxiety has dissolved like a sugar cube in hot tea this week.⠀

My experience of peace has dialed way up. If I drop into something that doesn't feel good, I bob right back out again. Almost effortlessly. In the past, where the past was a week ago, if I got knocked out of my feeling-good place, I would have to work damn hard to regain it.⠀

It's like everything I've been practicing and working for has finally clicked into place - like all the power tools I've been frantically throwing in my mental health toolbox finally got plugged in and turned on and now they work the way they're supposed to.⠀

Nothing about this time makes sense. Everything my past experience has taught me says that I should be dragging and / or feeling all the things and / or panicking.

Instead I feel like lightning is coursing through me. I feel energized and able to get things done without my usual rounds of second-guessing. In this moment, I feel happy, energetic, and stable. Which is not what I would expect from global pandemic energy.

It doesn't make sense, but I don't need it to make sense. If it lasts, I will be thrilled. If it doesn't, I know that Feeling Peaceful For Five Whole Days In a Row is something that exists in this world.⠀

Or maybe this is something else. Maybe this is ascension. Maybe 5D is already here. Maybe this isn’t what we believe it to be. Or maybe I’ve just used up all my anxiety and fear for one life time already and so now I get a break.

Honestly, I don’t know. My job right now seems to be to stay in the moment, roll with and enjoy what is, and let things unfold.

If anyone else is having a similar experience right now, I'd love to hear about it.⠀

If this is not anywhere close to your experience, I will just say that this is available to all of us. I know that for sure, even if I don't know what your personal route might be.

But you know how to get there. Even if you don't yet know that you know.⠀

xo - Amber

Wait, what is this feeling?

Time to Slow

It’s blissfully quiet - no cars rumbling down the road, no planes blasting over head. The only sound is the kitties chewing their breakfast kibble.

It feels like the world needs a rest. I saw pictures of the Venice canals - the water was running clear, and the fish and the swans were returning. When the factories in China shut down, the air cleared for the first time in decades.

There’s something that feels very important about this time - a slowing down, a drastic shift in everyday life, something deeply supportive for us as a people and for the planet.

Why Quitting Is a Great Idea

I am terrible at quitting things. 

Actually, I’m amazing at quitting things. I’m just not great at continuing to quit things. I’ll quit sugar and then decide a week later that a salted chocolate chip cookie is a brilliant idea. (Because it is.) I’ll quit coffee and decide an hour later that the world needs me caffeinated. (Because it does.)

I’ve needed to quit channeling and energy healing for over a year.⠀

I love channeling. But all arrows have been pointing to STOP since last March - but I was in my NO CHANNELING IS MY THING denial phase for all of 2019.⠀

It IS my thing. Channeling will always be my thing. But doing the channeling and energy healing for other people was killing my health and my energy.⠀

So I quit. I quit doing the thing that drains me, the thing that closes off my life, rather than opens it up.⠀

Because I want to feel good. I want to have energy for things like writing books and having friends. I want to do all the things that make me happy, like going to dance class, exploring this beautiful state and world I’m lucky enough to live in, learning new things, smelling the goddamn rosemary.⠀

Quitting the thing you know you need to quit makes space for other things, things that feel better.⠀

Channeling can be just another tool in my arsenal, a bonus for people I work with - like, hey, Joan of Arc is here for you! - rather than the main event. Thank god.

I'm making life simple for awhile. I'm going to do sessions with writers ( because working with witchy authors to help them do the goddamn thing is my jam) and with sensitive humans (because helping people feel better is my joy) - and trust that it’s enough. If you want to schedule a session with me, I'd love to help.⠀

We're allowed to quit. To have a life that feels fun, that feels good, that doesn’t drain the very marrow of our soul - and we get to do that in any way we goddamn please.

Sometimes that means leaving something behind, even something you thought you would do or be or have or love forever.⠀

But it always, always opens the door for something better.

Like clinging to an octopus for no discernible reason.

Soften

My internal message this morning was “soften.”

I am such a tense little pigeon. I clench and tighten and stop breathing without even noticing that I’m cutting off my flow of air. Trust me, when you clench off your flow of air, you’re cutting off all your flow - the flow of love, the flow of money, the flow of inspiration, the flow of healing, the flow of divinity trying to make it into this human body of mine.

In the midst of living my life, I’m doing my best to catch myself when I tense and tighten up. Soften into this life. Feel safe in this body, in this place. Feel safe in all the circumstances and events and thoughts and feelings of my Amber existence.

Softening actually makes for a pretty good day. When I soften, I become more aware of the air around me - the bright sky above, the trees flashing past the window of my car, how lucky I am to have money for a sandwich I can eat in the sun and a coffee I can drink in my favorite writing spot.

Softening allows gratitude to show up easily - something that I tend to struggle with. Softening allows my thoughts to quiet. Softening allows my lungs to take in more than ten percent of their capacity. Softening helps me feel like every step I take is worth something, rather than spinning my wheels fruitlessly.

The first part of this year has really been about devoting myself to the small daily habits that support my health, evolution, and work. Alternating walking and yoga-ing so my body doesn’t petrify on the couch. Turning on the writing faucet every day so that if anything wants to come through me, it has a chance. Channeling for myself every morning, because I’m great at channeling for everyone else and not so good at channeling for myself. But spending five minutes each morning receiving messages for myself has skipped that evolution forward massively.

I’m rebuilding my foundations, after a year of shifting and redrawing boundaries and wondering what on god’s green earth I was doing with my life. I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life, to be clear. But I do know that I can get up every morning and take a walk and write some words and check in with my guides and share what I’m led to share and heal for anyone who wants it - and maybe that’s all I need to know about my life right now.

On Being Happy In a Human Body

Inhabiting my body and my life and my relationships is one of the hardest things for me. It doesn’t feel safe. Though of course, being fully in the body is the safest place for us. But try telling that to my gun-shy soul.

I joke that I was lured back down into the world and a human body with the promise of sex and donuts.

Now that I’m here and know that sugar makes me crazy (meaning donuts = bad idea) (let’s not even get into the marathon of terrible that sex was through most of my twenties) , I realize that I should’ve read the fine print.

Last night I was at an acupuncture appointment with one of my favorite healers. She was asking me about my relationship - and she completely lost my pulse as I answered. It was like I just dropped straight out of my body. Like the rug was pulled out from under me - which is how I feel in most of my relationships, romantic or not.

Being fully in my relationship is - apparently - a really rich place of exploration for me. It also feels like boarding a ship to sail for the horizon when everyone still believed the world was flat.

In a miracle of eastern medicine, she stuck needles into me in the places that would help my body feel like a safe place for my soul to land. Which is quite a good trick, considering that my soul was not even a little bit interested in another human life and life’s few redeeming aspects have proved problematic.

Even though I don’t want to be here most of the time, I love this world and I love the people in it. And when I can rise enough out of my own nonsense, I love my own life. My life has sunshine and beaches and cats and coffee and writing words and a boyfriend who’s an excellent cook.

So my other place of exploration/trying-not-to-fall-off-the-edge is being so at home in myself and my body and my energy that I can embody that love rather than all the fear. (So much fear, my god.)

It becomes a daily practice of doing everything I know to do to stay in my own center rather than being buffeted around by the world and the people and all the feelings. This is why I harp on about light all the time. Using my imagination to sling light through my life is one of the best ways to help myself feel better.

Honestly, I don’t really know what it looks like to fully inhabit my body and relationships and life. I just have to trust myself and my guidance and keep moving in the direction that feels good. That’s all we can ever do.