The other morning I half awoke to a distinct feeling of pressure on my chest. Specifically, a clear understanding that a forearm of some kind was pressing on it. Half asleep, I acknowledged B had long left for his early client sessions, and something within me knew, unshakingly, that it was a Spirit. I struggled to fully awaken in that way we often linger in-between, and when I finally roused the energy to move, pressure building, I shouted...out loud...in my most annoyed voice, "Be Gone!" 

Instantly the forearm feeling lifted, and I cracked up.

One thing I will say about myself, I sure do know how to giggle at these moments. Somehow, they can be entirely true for me, and also delightfully entertaining in a loving, self deprecating way.

Poor B, however, has had to learn to adapt to this.

Most of my early (and still some of my recent) descriptions of these kinds of Spirit-on-my-chest encounters/beliefs were met with:

Oh cutie, you had no idea what you signed up for, did you?

Just the other day I woke us both up from a dream with my gasp (props to his immediate hand holding reaction soothing my disturbed soul...swoon)....

I'm going to go ahead and assume many family and friend dynamics include that person. You know, the hokey, quirky, Deepak & Louise loving pals. The friend who attends spiritual retreats, keeps crystals in the home and jumps at the chance to have a tarot reading. The one who sighs about bad karma, or quotes their therapists, coaches, gurus, & guides often.

And, I think it is pretty safe to also assume that for my own particular circle of relationships, I am very much *that* friend. 

I am the woman destined to become eccentric old Aunt Patsy, with her 20 cats and layers of colorful scarves, fringed afghans, and baubled jewelry. Potentially drinking her first martini by noon each day, because in this vision I'm 95 and really should be able to do whatever the hell I want. I'll cackle laugh often, since I already am a bit raspy in that department (I remember a high school friend once telling me he was convinced I secretly smoked a pack of cigs a day, my laugh is so raspy). I'll play old records, all the time. I'll dance freely, and unapologetically. I'll love mama earth fiercely and dig my sparkle pedicured toes in the sand as often as possible. I'll go to weekly reiki sessions and tell dirty jokes and continue to travel with other retirees in fabulous elderly caravans. Also in my dream lives my 92 year old sister, whom I share a home with because our man slices have since passed on (they don't like this part of my dream, but the sooner they accept this inevitable detail, the easier it will be -- they shall be outlived by Diggy sisters). Together we both scare and delight the neighborhood children with our mystical tales and hilarious antics such as throwing pancakes from the porch at the slowest bike riders. Think: the Aunts of Practical Magic meets The Golden Girls.

Dream big, I know.

So, with my future pretty well outlined, and B already at the level of amused acceptance, I decided to take to the blog to help those of you dealing with your own token Aunt Patsy.

I present to you, the short and sweet:

How To Handle Hokey 101

First, know that the harder you fight against it, the more it will crop up for you. Or, as a coach once said: That which you cannot be with, will run you.

Second, accept that maybe you don't know everything and allow your hokey friend to present versions of reality, humanity, and the business of energy in their quirky ways. Be light hearted and open; remember to believe in magic a little. It does the body good.

Third, admit that you kinda like it. Admit that there is something spiritual about your time in the woods, or in front of the sea. Admit that it feels good to be the weirdest, most curious version of yourself with them. Permission to fly your freak flag: granted.

And finally, forgive yourself for the moment in which you first say out loud "that made my spirit feel big" or "his energy is off" or "I can't decide shit before I meditate". Your membership to the tribe has no expiration date, and we are ready to celebrate your induction, to whatever degree feels right, at a moments notice.


Not all who wander are lost, and whatnot...


love and light,

Aunt Patsy

Monday morning started with a call for inspiration in the form of a mass bcc email to about 30 friends and family members. The movement of my career as a writer had stalled, and the ol' creative topics tank was running on fumes.

I'm stuck, I said. Help?

To get the ball rolling, I asked them things like:

What kinds of emo, inspirational, or food for thought articles do you enjoy reading? What sorts of stories make you feel less alone?

What's happening in your life, right now, that feels shaky? amazing? unknown?

What might be happening in a friend or relative's life that you wish were easier for them?

What do you wish someone would talk about?

I assumed that within a few days, if I were lucky, maybe 2-3 people would respond with general ideas. Probably more as a show of support than a real interest in what I could offer in writing, I thought. To be fair, this was everything to do with my never-ending-levels-of-fragile ego and nothing to do with the caliber of friends I have. Apologies, my darlings, for ever doubting you...(us).

Because what I actually got, in just a short 24 hours?

Raw, honest, personal stories. Inquiries on vulnerable topics dealing with self, as well as selfless topics dealing with others -- most specifically a range of questions on how to be better for others, and with others. Better friends, better teammates, better partners. Better people on the planet, doing the very best they know how in love, faith, family. Better to ourselves, while making the most of the precious time we are given in this life; living as fulfilled, enlightened, whole beings. And, as I hear so often with my clients, desires for getting un-stuck and becoming more alive in beautiful, unique, juicy ways. 

I received a flood of responses that were not only spot-on what I needed from an inspirational side, but ones that served to enrich my day with their detailed, introspective, and delightfully human cores. They choked me up with their brave vulnerability, and brought out a number of oh honey, amen to that!'s. After reading a dozen replies, I knew that if I could respond to each and every one with only a single starting sentiment, it would simply be:  you are not alone. That, and maybe a borderline uncomfortably long hug.

I was floored, heart cracked open in fresh ways, and practically kicking myself for waiting so long to send off such a basic but apparently powerful request for help. I had forgotten to ask what's the best that could happen?, instead of assuming the worst.

You know, as you get older, it becomes more and more crucial to find members for your good vibes tribe. It's equally important to weed out the itty bitty shitty committee players, but that sometimes takes longer to recognize.

In other words: Pay attention to the really good, loyal, joyful, vulnerable, curious people around you. Connect with them often. Connect with them as your best and worst selves, ask them for help, offer them yours.  And then? Let go of the rest.

For every person who has written to me so far, I am deeply grateful. While I take some time to craft my replies in the most loving & respectful ways they all absolutely deserve, I want you to know something...

On Monday, after B had fallen asleep in his (never ceases to amaze me) record timing of 2.4 seconds, I spent the next hour in the calm of our precious city-cottage praying for every single soulful email. Every word of them. One hand over my heart, the other holding B's (more as a proactive defense against his sleep herky-jerkying than a gesture of intimacy). I asked the Universe to take care of each being in my most stern but loving Mama Trish voice. I asked God to help me uplift them, and to use me as positive energy and a source of comfort.

This is a big responsibility, I said. This is the kind of work most worth doing, and I don't take the gig lightly. 

I asked for guidance, understanding and patience. I asked for better words, tighter sentences, and strength to share more of my own stories for the purpose of connection.

I asked for a lot of things, but mostly I just spent an hour holding you each in the deepest parts of my heart, and feeling honored to be in a position to do so.

To be continued....


You are very loved,

Trish


ps -- if there are folks reading this who would also like to submit topic ideas in the same vein as the questions mentioned at the top of this essay, my contact inbox is always open. xo.

A few things I'm loving, from my home to yours, in case you are a product addict like myself....

S'well Bottle. Oh my goodness, this is little diddy deserves a whole solo post just for its fabulous self, and won my sister & bro the "best of Christmas" award for their gifting me & B each one. Here's the scoop: The S'well bottle keeps beverages cold for 24 hours, and hot for 12. I would feel crazy saying that, except we've tested both extremes (from refrigerated spa water to piping hot apple cider) and you guys -- it is legit. Whatever hot/cold temp you put in, is what it stays (ie be careful of too hot!!). They come in oodles of colors, but I love that sister nailed mine by choosing a limited edition charity- partner style. Do mother earth a favor and invest in one -- plastic bottles are slowly killing her, and are way less cool (or hot!) than these.


Beauty Counter's Color Outline Eye Pencil.  Since discovering the magic of eyeliner in high school, I've hardly been without it on any given makeup-wearing day (ie if I am forced to leave the house). But, I've also struggled with many moments of eye irritations on these days, that were likely intensified by my contacts.  Since switching to this creamy, smooth and perfectly accentuating liner I can confidently say my sensitive eyes last long into the night (ahem, my bed time of 10pm) without my craving to scratch and claw at them. Hallelujah, and thank you, Beauty Counter, for your higher standards in skincare and beauty safety!


My tea steeper. Like a little adventurer in my cup, I just adore him!


Dr. Schulze's Air Detox. Whether or not you buy into the holistic benefits of this kind of essential oil mix, this still makes a great air & room refresher. Every time I've sprayed it in our teenie apartment B has commented that it smells very "clean". I may or may not have used this to my advantage on days I am supposed to do actual cleaning...(sorry, B). The size is perfect for travel, as it instantly freshens up a hotel room or even an airplane row (if you can spritz it fast enough without startling your seat mates). In short, I prefer to have these natural oils circulating in our air rather than whatever chemical particles live in alternative sprays.


Sublime Beauty Skin Brush. I heard a rumor that dry brushing helps with cellulite, and prepared myself to brush my thighs raw. I'd like to think it is actually working, but it honestly may just be in my head/under my sweet Mexico tan. B can't stand the feeling of the brush on his skin, but men are clearly the weaker sex, and it doesn't bother me. There's no denying the skin-smoothing benefits or wake up call to your lymphatic system, though, and that in itself is worth a little scrub down pre-shower.


What products are y'all loving these days? I'm always in the market for new goodies....


Enjoy!


In Gratitude,

Trish