Rest + Ritual

Moment of honesty... I have never enjoyed napping. In the past, intentionally resting has been hard for me. Don't get me wrong, once in bed; I have never had a hard time falling asleep or sleeping in general. However, intentionally, resting has always been a hard sell. I remember as a young kid feeling as if I was somehow missing out on the fun happening on the other side of my bedroom's closed door. There were still adventures to be had, and I wanted in on it. Truthfully, this FOMO would continue well into adulthood. I would eventually opt into taking a deep dive into the why. Until this point, I had filed this angst against napping into the "well, that's just the way I am" folder. Only recently (thanks to weekly therapy) have discovered that it is not! 

This fear of resting was deeply rooted in need to prove and be approved. I like to call it the hard hustle syndrome. Many parents, Black folks, women, and most marginalized groups feel it, I'm sure. As someone who checks all the above boxes (Black, Woman, Mother, etc.), I would feel this pressure triple the load. It has taken quite the inner work to break away from the internal dialogue and outside pressure. Learning to prioritize one's self-care above all else has required that I unlearn the toxic expectations of powering through. It has required that I understand that my body, mental health, and holistic life matters. Prioritizing rest as an act of beautiful rebellion was all a part of it! To experience self-liberation, I would begin creating a ritual around my rest. Here are few ways in which I did so. 

1. My sleep comfort matters. Upon entering this journey, I would begin looking at my sleeping space, specifically my bed. Was the mattress comfy? How about my pillows? Upon laying down on my bed, did I feel comfortable? For this exploration, I partnered with my friends over at Avocado, an organic sleep brand specializing in organic mattresses and so much more! First, I have always wanted an organic mattress, as they are better for your health and the planet! Avocado is made with GOTS organic certified cotton and wool. GOTS organic certified latex- all sustainably sourced from farms co-owned in India. I've gotten some of the best sleep ever courtesy of my new mattress and plush pillows - all made with natural fibers and non-toxic.

2. Part of my ritual is preparing my bed with soft and inviting bedding. There is nothing like turning down my bed as I prepare to lay down for the night. NOTHING LIKE IT! Avocado offers excellent bedding as well!

3. I prepare my surrounding space as well before bedtime. My water bottle is on my side table. Sometimes, I start my diffuser with my favorite essential oil! I set the mood!

4. Once in bed, take a few deep breaths, reflect on the day, and let it all go with every exhale. Sit your phone outside of your bedroom.

Rest is healing and therapeutic. 

We all thrive best when we have it. 

Rest is our birthright.

Please take it. 

Inner Child, Calling

This year, I did something that I’ve never done before. I started therapy. Many moons ago, after the death of my mother, I began my search for a grief therapist. However, my search would prove unfruitful. Fortunately, my healing would come through the support of mentors and friends, who had walked a similiar long and windy road.

2020 has provided complete clarity concerning what I would need to thrive and live my best life. One of the many lessons that I’ve learned? If you want to heal yourself, heal your inner child. The way we see the world, react to disappointment, receive criticism often times stem from what we did or did not receive during our formative years. Truthfully, the way this world is set up in regards to attachment parenting or the lack thereof, its deficit has produced a world full of matured bodies with childhood induced wounds. If one is brave enough to lean into truth, we will all find that we can only find + appreciate joy when we heal.

So where, does that leave us? How do we begin to tend to these wounds? The short answer... We acknowledge and begin to have the conversation. We allow our adult self to see and hear our inner child. We allow our adult words to pour over like a balm. We allow our acknowledgement to create a salve that permeates deep within our cells. No one can heal our inner child, but us. This work is our own. Here’s to the journey.

In this week’s newsletter, I feature an amazing article on healing our inner child. It’s absolutely worth a read. Click the Recess Room tab to subscribe to weekly joy!

Retreat, Rest and Return

I took a breath. A much-needed breath. In January, our family experienced a loss, a miscarriage. In March, I found out we were pregnant again. I received this news after birthing our Moms In Color Conference. I was completely unaware that I was pregnant the entire time, of our event. The cherry on top would be that my husband was out of the country, working, virtually the entirety of my first trimester. This left me with caring for myself and our growing babe and caring for our two boys, solo (but not so solo, as Jon was still super involved)  for two and a half months. It was a lot. I had to purposefully, decide that I was important, that I was necessary. 

Resting is necessary. Whether it be resting from screen time to connect deeply with those who matter most, or simply unplugging, the reward will always be life-giving. I learned that by simply resting and taking a moment to reflect, to go inward, to sit in whatever it was that I was feeling, I would always walk away feeling clearer and most centered. 

Creating space for oneself isn't selfish. It's beautiful. Creating boundaries to shape that space is necessary. I knew that in order for me to show up for my two boys and this growing babe, I had to show up for myself. I realized that I would have to take space and that no one was going to simply offer that said space. I would have to take it and water it, with the same care that I water my plants. I knew that if I were to flourish and grow, I would have to create the soil that fostered just that. Truthfully, taking time to pause and to take care, was and is an act of resistance in and of itself. Demanding space within a world that pauses for no one, is an act of beautiful rebellion in its truest form. In fact, some may treat your ability to Selah as an act of treason. Selah, anyway. 

During this rest, I took a break from the blog, returning some emails, text messages, and some DM's. I stepped away from any and all things that felt toxic and/or stagnant, both virtually and in real life. I guarded my eyes, my ears, and my heart.  Then, I returned... I am still returning. 

How are you taking space for yourself today? How are you resting? How are you growing? 

My Vacation Teacher...

Vacations are good. Vacations are necessary. And repeat… This was my mantra leading up to our trip. For the first time in ten years, Jon and I would embark on an adult’s only get away to New York. It actually worked out quite perfectly. Jon was playing Afro Punk (which I was BEYOND excited about.) I was going to be doing a shoot for a brand that I held near and dear to my heart. Babysitters were in place. Needless to say, it was going to be fun. I was super excited. Leading up to our trip, (and during) I would learn some amazing things about myself. Perhaps these were things that I’ve always known. However, these nostalgic discoveries were so very evident. Here are three things that I learned during our great adventure…

I learned that I deserve good things. Before our big trip, my anxiety was on fleek!! I was afraid that at any given moment, one of our kids would catch a cold, and I wouldn't be able to go. (Please note: My kiddos are never sick.) The thought of the brand that I would be working with, canceling for unforeseen reasons, (although they have never cancelled) crossed my mind. The thought of my daredevil of a kid, Jedi... breaking an arm during one of his acrobatic stunts crossed my mind. I even imagined Afro Punk canceling due to unforeseen weather. I know… It was crazy. Anxiety made its grand appearance. Truthfully, the thoughts continued until we boarded the plane. Why were these thoughts so prevalent? Why did I feel like our beautiful four day plan would fall through at any moment? The answer was so very evident… I wasn't aware that I deserved good things. As someone who has dealt with both childhood and adult trauma, one can begin to second guess when good things happen. You begin questioning IF something/ someone/ some experiences are really as amazing as they seem. I for one, if not careful, can pick things apart to its bare bones... carefully examining the gift that has been given to me... as if it is a mysterious package left by a stranger similar to the film, “The Box.” When healing from trauma, it is very easy to doubt every good thing that comes your way, as opposed to simply embracing it. After all, the pain experienced is so very real, one’s guard is hard to let down. However, it is so very imperative that at some point, the healing begins and the exhale takes place. At some point, the folded arms that guard our wounds, must open to receive the good that so desperately would like to enter our world. Although, I can never take away the traumatic events in my life, I can still decide to embrace the beauty and wonder this world has to offer. For God sake... I deserve it!! On my trip, I prompted myself to say thank you and receive… arms open… heart open.

I learned that I am super resourceful and quick on my feet. Upon arriving in NY, my tummy began feeling upset. Perhaps it was nerves or lack of sleep on the plane. Who knows. We landed around 9am in NY. Before heading to baggage claim, I went to the restroom and freshened up a bit, and Jon and I headed out on our first adventure. First stop... my photo shoot. As our Lyft driver drops us off, my stomach by this point feels really bubbly and weird. I try my best to think nothing of it. We finally arrive in the city. As we're waiting outside of the loft, one of the shoot's coordinators comes down to meet & escort us to where we should go. Not a second after we greet each other, I do the unthinkable… I “sharted!!.” Yes. You read it right. I shart myself. For those of you who have no idea what that means, it means that I simeoultaenously farted and crapped my pants.  Yep. Thank God, no one heard it. Thank God, It wasn't a huge “shart”. However, what is really a reasonable sized “shart”? Its all horrible. Its all incredibly humbling. What do I do next? I walk up the FIVE flights of stairs to the loft where we are shooting and I immediately ask for their bathroom... just citing that I need to freshen up... remaining as calm as possible.  Needless, to say, my tummy is obviously upset!! (Please note: “Shart(ing) is not something that I incorporate into my everyday life.) Once I get into the bathroom, I freeze. In this particular bathroom there is no sink, just a toilet. I panic. I look through my bag and I notice that I have a water bottle and baby wipes. So... what did I do?... I did what every dope woman who sharts her pants would do. I channel my inner McGuiver and begin to give myself a bath with my freshly opened bottle of Dasani, which I had confiscated it from the plane...  and baby wipes. I literally began squatting over the toilet pouring water all over my nether regions and wiping as if my life depended on it. Because it did!!! I am convinced I couldn't have bathed myself any better had I been in an an actual shower. Soon after, I got dressed...  walked out of the bathroom with a Mentos smile on my face without anyone suspecting a thing. After modeling underwear for the next 7 hours, I left the shoot, giving myself a much deserved pat on the back... and the rear. 

Lastly, I learned that Jon and I needed a vacation more than ever. We needed time to connect with ourselves…. just us. No distractions. We found ourselves wondering around the big apple, with no particular place to be. It was wonderful. We stayed up late. We woke up late on days that we didn't have to work. We made love on the table (because we could). We did exactly what we wanted to do, when we wanted to do it, AND where we wanted to do it (pun totally intended). I remembered WHY I chose him so very long ago. I remembered why he has been my best friend for all these years. WE remembered why every day, we choose each other. We ate vegan churros at fun vegan diners. This moment reminded me of when he and I were dating... staying up to the wee hours, eating greasy Waffle House diner food, and just knowing that perhaps this thing that we were feeling was not only mutual, but real. This trip served as a beautiful reminder. It was necessary. It was beautiful. It was a teacher. For this I am forever grateful. 

Abundance

Today, I have been reflective. It's hard to to wrap my head around the fact that not only will Mr. Jedi be 2 years old, tomorrow... But 2 years ago today, I was in the throws of 43 hours of intense labor. It was by far one of the most intense moments I have ever experienced. Truthfully, the intensity was beyond the surges, reminding me that this life that I had been carrying for 40 weeks, would now make its noble entrance.

I remember breathing... breathing through every contraction... through every bit of pain... It felt as if my back was being torn apart. Reading numerous hypno birthing books had gotten me to this point of no return. In that moment, I remember asking for my mother. In that moment I missed her more than ever. She was present for the birth of my oldest son, Jax. She held my hand. She reminded me that I was loved in a way that only a mother can. She watched as her baby birthed her own baby.

This time was different. She wasn't there... and nothing... and no one could replace or change this unfortunate reality. However, I believe that it was no coincidence that during my birth with Jedi, I was surrounded by love. I truly believe that every woman that was present, represented a special part of my mother... her motherhood... her protection... her sense of humor... her focus... her laughter. All of it was there in that room... in different forms... but ever present.

When I look at this photo, I am reminded that somehow... someway within the deficit, there is still abundance. Within my mothers absence, I was surrounded by such an abundance of love.