Gifts

Did you ever wonder what your gift is? I have. I still do. At 44 years old, you’d think I’d know by now what my gift is. I used to think because I was interested in something that I would just naturally be good at it if the opportunity presented itself for me to try it. I used to lo oce watching those fixer upper HGTV type shows. I thought I could do that. So I bought a beach house in need of some TLC. I thought I could make it really shine. I did some painting to it and the outdoor shed. Cleaned it up. But I never removed the carpet on the floor. Here it is. In all it’s glory. Still carpeted.

Fancy, right? Nope, not particularly, but now that I’m paying to fix it up, I’m afraid of what I may uncover if I pull it up and how much it will cost in time and money to make the floors nice. So I don’t pull it up. It just sits there. And look at that old mirror. Still there. And I meant to paint over the striped wallpaper. Yeah, I didn’t do that, either. Because, you know what? This shit is not my gifting. I don’t really care enough to fix it. I am really good at tuning shit out. That’s a gift and a curse, I guess. But at least I know what is not my gifting. Leads me away from what I’m not supposed to do, so i get closer to what I was born to do.

Finding the Perfect Beach Town

After many years of dreaming and planning and then shelving the idea because we figured that this dream would have to wait until we retired or paid off our current mortgage, we finally decided to take the plunge and just do it.

Last summer, we were beach town hunting. We went to the Villas in New Jersey because they were affordable. That was quite the adventure. We rented a cabin for the weekend and that pretty much sucked. Normally, I like adventure. I like roughing it. But wait for it, this campground is about to get interesting. Okay, so we spent an afternoon looking at houses. None really felt like the beach. I didn’t smell sea salt in the air. I didn’t feel that cool sea breeze. And the houses were really too small or too gross to even consider. So, then we spent the rest of the afternoon swimming in the bay. It did seem a bit greasy. But the waves were light, the kids had fun swimming around (Chloe spent most of the time floating on her back with her floatie) and there were no other people around. We had the whole bay to ourselves, except for the guy sitting on the shore reading a book. Another young family came for a small bit but the mom said that she doesn’t like to swim too long in the bay because it skeeves her out. I didn’t think much of it until she mentioned it and then I started to think about the safety of the water we were swimming in, so we decided to get out and get back to the campground to shower off.

We pulled into the campground and got right up to the entrance gate and the power went out in the campground. The entire campground. We had to wait at the gate for about 15 minutes while they figured out how to let us in since the gate was electronic. Finally, they let us in and we got to our cabin. Still no power, so that means, no AC. Which was the whole point to getting a cabin instead of a tent. We still felt gross from swimming in the bay so we decided it was time to get those showers. But, alas, no. It was not meant to be. Apparently, when the power is out, the showers are also out. Wah. We tried to make the best of it. But then worse came to worse. My hubby had to use the bathroom. The tiny little bathroom in the cabin which had no AC and was muggy and hot. And then, because the power was still out, of course, the toilet wouldn’t flush. UGH! Yeah, that was no fun. After all that, the campground didn’t even give me an apology, let alone a tiny discount off our night from hell. In the end, it felt like a clear sign that it wasn’t where we were meant to be. So the search continued to find the beach town where we were meant to hang our sunhats.

We also checked out Cape May while we were in the area that weekend, and while we liked the town and enjoyed climbing the lighthouse, we knew that it was out of our price range. We are the real deal beach house bargain hunters. We’re not those kind of people that you watch on TV on those bargain house hunting shows, where the couple ends up purchasing a house at the “bargain price” of $300,000. Yeah, no. I don’t consider $300,000 a bargain. So, we’re real and we’re really trying to find that right home that truly is a good bargain.

Then my friend Kathleen told me about a little island called Chincoteague which is right off the DELMARVA peninsula. We spent a weekend there to get a feel for the area. We stayed in a house that was also available to purchase. We considered it because it was in our price range. It was blue on the outside, had 2 small bedrooms and one bathroom. It had a nice sun porch. It also had a tiny peek a boo view of the bay. The house did not win us over- it was too small, too grungy, too dustbally, and the foundation seemed off. But the town won us over. We played mini golf, the kids rode ponies, we had soft serve ice cream one night, and the most delicious homemade ice cream another night, and had the best seafood that we’d ever eaten. We played in the ocean and checked out the wild ponies on the marsh. Life was simpler and more beautiful there. We found our second hometown: Chincoteague, Virginia!

Mother’s Day: The Gift of Adventure

It’s Mother’s Day 2018.  I started to shift from free wheeling fly by the seat of my pants single college chick to settling down, meal prepping, thrift shopping for cute Gymboree outfits cool stepmom after I met my then-boyfriend, now-husband’s three year old daughter, Marlee. I was still smoking my Camel lights back then, too and I kicked the habit for her sake because she was allergic to the cigarette smoke. My life changed a lot for the better and I didn’t even have the 9 months to transition into being a mom, but I did have breaks once in awhile when she went back to her mom for a few days a week. Then, I got to feel like a young adult, again and had the luxury to be immature and not have to play grown up quite so much. We still had fun, though. We bought a cute Scotty Serro camper and went on camping trips. We went to NYC and climbed to the crown of the Statue of Liberty. Marlee cried the whole way up so we took the elevator down. Those steps were steep!  Eventually, we married and after a year of marriage, I became pregnant. I have always been superhealthy and superstrong, so I planned on doing a homebirth, but only after I proved to myself that I could have one smooth and healthy pregnancy while under a doctor’s medical care. I’m very lucky I decided to do a hospital birth first, because I am the only one in my family who has very sick pregnancies and my first pregnancy almost killed me and I would have died if I wasn’t in a hospital. I had HELLP Syndrome and had to undergo an emergency c-section 3 weeks before my due date. It all happened so fast, one second I thought I was having extremely painful gas pains, the next minute, I was laying under a gas mask on an operating table and counting backwards from 10, waking up in major pain, coughing mildly and crying from the pain the coughing brought to my abdomen. I was wheeled into my recovery room, to the sight of my husband holding my beautiful son. I was on magnesium sulfate and morphine for the next few days, so they were a blur, but I knew then that my life was forever changed for the better.  After, that first pregnancy (puking the whole time) and horribly scary birth experience, I decided to wait awhile and I let my body heal before I decided whether to try again. The doctors told me that I had a 50% chance of having HELLP Syndrome again with my next pregnancy which really frightened me, even though I always wanted a few children. So, a few years passed before we became pregnant again with my next baby. Almost 6 years to the day of my first baby’s delivery, I had another emergency c-section, this time only 2 weeks before my baby’s due date. I felt the familiar pangs of what I now know aren’t gas pains, but liver pains (my liver had swollen with my first pregnancy where it was minutes from rupturing). I called the hospital and they told me because of my history of HELLP Syndrome that I should come in and get checked out. This time, I had classic pre-eclampsia. I personally believe that I was starting to go into HELLP Syndrome again, but we caught it early so it didn’t progress into full blown HELLP this time. But I still had the high liver enzymes and they wouldn’t let me eat for 24 hours after my c-section, because of the magnesium sulfate. But because I wasn’t in a “she’s going to die within minutes, if we don’t deliver” kind of emergency with this baby, I was able to be awake while they did an epidural emergency c-section. That was nice, because I got to see my baby before they stitched me back up.  It certainly wasn’t as traumatic as my first baby’s birth and it gave me the courage to try for one more baby. I was 35 and I knew that my clock was ticking especially with my already being high risk due to my past birth experiences. So, 2 years later, I became pregnant again. I decided to wait until I gave birth to determine the gender of this baby. It was going to be my last baby and my last chance at the big surprise. My hubby had a vasectomy 2 weeks before our due date, so it was official that our shop was closed.  Once again, as usual, pregnancy sucked. I puked the whole way through, with small pockets of non-nausea throughout, but this last pregnancy was easier to manage because the doctor’s gifted me with Zofran to help relieve the nausea. About 4 months into the pregnancy, my blood pressure shot to about 200/150. I thought my home blood pressure monitor was broken, so I waited for my hubby to come home from work and checked his blood pressure and it was normal. I checked mine again, still high. So, we took a trip to the ER where they put me on an i.v. of blood pressure meds (Labatalol) to bring down my high blood pressure. Then sent me home with a prescription of it to manage my blood pressure at home. I guess, this was considered pregnancy hypertension since it was too early to be considered preelampsia and way too early to deliver. After a couple of months on Labatalol, my doctor wanted to try discontinuing it and see if my blood pressure would stay low.  And my blood pressure stayed low the rest of my pregnancy. We had one other short scare when they saw a brain cyst on the baby’s ultrasounds, but after a month or two of follow up scans, the cyst disappeared on it’s own and they gave the baby a clean bill of health. I made it to the scheduled c-section with no preeclampsia this time. The only hiccup was that I had a few sips of iced tea (because I was thirsty and my c-section was scheduled for 11:00 am). They made me wait until 1:00 pm because they were worried about my aspirating during the c-section.  Which, could’ve happened because I did get sick in the OR, for some reason, I could feel the change in my hormones like as soon as they opened me and I felt really weird and got sick. But the sickness was small compared to the joy I felt when the doctor said “Dad, do you want to tell mom what the baby is?” My hubby said “it’s a girl?” I was convinced from all the ultrasounds and the doctors calling my baby a “he” during my whole pregnancy that I was having a boy, so I had convinced my hubby of that, too, so he was confused when he saw girl parts.  The doctor laughed and confirmed “yes, you have a beautiful baby girl!” I was so ecstatic!! My family was complete. And I felt good considering I had just had my first delivery without magnesium sulfate. So, I did a short stay in the hospital and requested to come home earlier than they recommended and they agreed. Looking back, I should’ve taken that last day to rest at the hospital, but I was ready to get back to my kids. So, now my kids are older. My stepdaughter is 20, in college and doing well. My HELLP syndrome baby is 14 and very confident and happy. My next boy is 8 and loves technology and animals. My baby girl is 6 and is definitely the baby girl in the family, feisty and strong from growing up with big brothers.

I’ve been on a few adventures since I’ve had my babies, but I’m not sure if my adventurous spirit has returned all the way. It may need more nurturing. Before children, I was in the Navy and lived in Orlando, San Diego, and Washington D.C.  After the Navy, I traveled around the country, and did the classic Jack Kerouac “On the Road” trip across the US, from PA to San Francisco, CA. I listened to the Grateful Dead’s Estimated Prophet and sang “California!” as we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. I spent a nice chunk of time in San Francisco, and traveled up highway 101 and visited each of those cute towns all the way up to a short stay in Cougar Hot Springs in Oregon. I moved up to Portland, then found my way back down to Sacramento, by way of hitchhiking with a new friend named Blue. It was quite an experience. Then, I caught a Greyhound and traveled back to PA.  I did a similar trip a few years later, but taking the southern route and stopping to visit my friend, Angie, in Oklahoma, which included experiencing my first real tornado. We traveled through Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and landed in San Diego. Then traveled back through Nevada and all those fun states in between. After all those adventures, I decided to get my degree and settle down a bit. So, the big cross country trips took a back seat while I worked on goal achievements. It was in this time, that I got married, had babies, and bought a few homes and cars and made a life with roots.  When my baby girl was 2, I felt ready to do some world travel. So, I joined my church on a trip to Germany. I fell in love with Europe and can’t wait to see it again!!! The following year, I took a trip to Tibet and China. I didn’t exactly fall in love with it, like I had with Germany, but I did have a big taste of a different culture and loved the experience. I even joined the Tibetans in their sunset dance circle around the town center. I love travel. I love experiencing culture. It’s like breathing fresh air and expanding my view of the world and giving me a new perspective. It’s like reading a new book that I get to experience first hand.

And so, with this Mother’s Day, I’m gifting myself permission to experience adventure again. I give myself permission to bring my children on the adventures. I give myself permission to to put my doubts and fears on the shelf and to embrace fully the adventure that runs through my veins. I give myself permission to pass on to the next generation the joy of experiencing life to the fullest. I give myself permission to say “Yes!” to life.

 

My Weekend of Yoga

Howdy, folks! My weekend of yoga has come to an end. Boo! But now I can tell you all about it. It started on Friday night and continued with various sessions until it ended on Sunday. The studio was very welcoming to me as it was my first time there, but it won’t be my last time. I loved the studio and plan to become a regular there. The special guest teacher this weekend was Doug Swenson.  He came all the way from Lake Tahoe, California to bless us with his humor, his insight, and his amazing ability to guide and teach yoga to any student.

Day 1. Friday 

The first night we did basic introductions and learned restorative yoga poses. I was worried about the cobra pose assist. It is a partner pose, where one partner pulls the arms of the other behind their back and pull to gently open up the chest.  This is what it looks like:

A year and a half ago I dislocated my shoulder in a bad fall, so I was concerned that this pose assist might pull my shoulder out of it’s socket again. I expressed my concern and the teacher provided the assist on me in front of the class. It did not hurt, in fact, my shoulder felt better than ever after the assist. I admit that I’ve been babying that shoulder for far too long and it felt really good to stretch it out. So the first night I learned about my limits and that only me and my fear of pain will limit me from reaching the next level. And this realization reverberates with me on so many different levels. You get it. He ended the evening with a calming Savasana (corpse-pose) that had me floating on a happy cloud for the rest of the night.

Day 2: Saturday morning

Wow. Okay, Saturday. What a day. We started with a session called Ashtanga with Extra Spice. It was an intermediate-advanced class and I surprised myself with keeping up with everyone. I guess I’d consider myself an intermediate, but before today, I felt more beginner. I guess I’m improving. 🙂  So, I sweat my butt off. I did the lotus while standing on one leg and bent forward. I was adjusted a few times to square off my hips and pull back my shoulders. I sweat some more. Then, the savasana arrived and I felt like I was literally glowing from the inside out. I carried that glow with me to my car where I listened to Bobby serenade me with an Estimated Prophet from Cornell ’77. My glow just kept on glowing. I grabbed a quick lunch at home, where my new phone was waiting for me. And my new instant pot (thanks, mom!). So, it was a good good good afternoon. And I happily drove back to the studio for my next session.

Saturday afternoon

For the afternoon session, the focus was on adjustments and partner yoga. My partner’s name was Sharon. We worked well together and did all the poses and adjustments with no problem. We learned how to properly give adjustments for a Sun Salutation vinyasa, and we took turns adjusting each other. Once again, I discovered a side to myself that surprised me and pleased me at the same time. Where has this girl been? I remember her and wish she hadn’t hid away for so long. 😉  Here’s a few pictures from our partner class:

 The yogi, the teacher, the student

My partner and me- that’s called trust. (I also had my turn to fly!)

And a little silliness on the come down. 😉

Day 3: Sunday

I was sad to see the yoga workshop come to an end. Training with all these fun friendly new faces, learning new yoga poses, and experiencing emotional, physical, and mental growth were just a few of the benefits of this weekend. Some things I learned today:

Things that factor into yoga practice–

1. Flexibility
2. Strength
3. Balance
4. Technique– learning the proper form for poses helps to grow in your practice.
5. Self Confidence– Having too little will hold you back from trying new things and growing in your practice. Having too much could cause you to injure yourself
6. Body Type– Not everyone has the same body type, and some yoga poses lend themselves better to certain body types than others. Long, lean, flexible types do better with back bends, whereas strong and short types can naturally do well with headstands and balance poses.

It was an inspiring weekend. I look forward to continue growing in my yoga practice, so much so that I registered to take the yin yoga teacher training course. I am super excited to start the journey to becoming a registered yoga teacher. But my favorite place on this journey is right where I am. Right here. Right now. It’s a beautiful life. Keep shining your light where ever you go. 🙂

With love and grace,

Kiersten ❤

 

My Journey with Yoga

Last summer, I went to my stepsister, Tonya’s wedding in Florida. I was feeling down, but hadn’t quite hit my bottom with depression, yet. One of the highlights of my trip was attending a sunrise yoga class on the beach. I felt better than I had in a long time.

I used to do yoga a lot when I was younger. My love of yoga began when I was around 21 years old, living in the downstairs of my mom’s bi-level. I had discovered an old yoga book and decided to give it a try. It taught me basic sun salutations and the author reminded me to always smile when I place my hands at heart center. I still smile when my hands are at my heart center. I did yoga on and off over the years, through videos, classes at the Y and with friends who also enjoyed yoga. After I had my firstborn, I joined a more serious yoga studio in New Berlin, PA called Integral Yoga Center which was located in an old church that was converted to a yoga studio complete with pictures of yoga masters and candles at the front of the room. My yoga teacher’s name was Sudharman. He wore long robes of white and had a long white beard. He had a glowing beautiful presence about him and walked through the studio barefoot. He encouraged all of his students to go to Yogaville and become yoga teachers, too. I wanted to go to Yogaville, but life became too busy with raising a toddler and my older stepdaughter, while I was working on my master’s degree and working a part time job. Then, we moved away from that area and my yoga practice fell to the wayside as I brought two more beautiful babies into the world. I also began working my dream job as a psychotherapist, establishing my own private practice. And then, after years of providing counseling services to others, I got burned out and depression came down upon me like the night.

After I hit my bottom with depression and began my journey back to full holistic wellness again, I remembered that moment of light which broke through the gray during a sunrise in Florida. So, I figured, I’ll try it again, now that I know I’m depressed and now that I know I have to find the right combination of tools that will help me get out of my depression and back to feeling like my Self again. I made a deal with myself. If I practiced yoga for 6 months straight, then I would begin training to be a yoga teacher. I began in mid-September, 2016. I started by watching yoga shows on Ztv, eventually getting a YMCA membership after pricing out the local yoga studios and figuring that a Y membership could cover my whole family at less than the cost of year’s membership at a yoga studio. I began taking Vinyasa yoga classes once a week for an hour and a half and I realized that, while rusty, I could still do a lot of the poses that I used to do. Like the headstand, although I was still uncomfortable doing it in front of others in class, I could easily show my friends from the comfort of my own home. “Hey, look! I can still do a headstand!” I’m sure I amused them. And my friend, Beth told me not to dim my light in front of others, so I began doing my headstand in class, too. 🙂

I took some time off from yoga during the holidays as Season Affective Disorder came upon me. So, I upped my meds and pushed through. Once I felt better, around the middle of January, I picked up my yoga mat and began again. I did yoga almost daily in February and March, stopping on occassion to take care of a sore wrist. Daily down dog with a little extra weight on my frame will do that. So, now I’m back on track to getting my yoga teaching certification. I went back to see my doctor at the end of February and told her how great things are going with my lifestyle change of regular yoga and an 80/20 percent of plant to meat based diet, and she agreed that I can go off my depression meds at the beginning of summer and begin again in November to address the chronic Seasonal Depression I get most winters. So, yay! I prefer to be as med-free as I can be, but I am willing to take them when nothing else works. And I do not want to fall down into the dark hole again.

Which leads me to this weekend. I’m doing a yoga workshop this weekend. The workshop is at a cool local yoga studio and will count as hours towards my teaching certification. I look forward to going deeper in my training and making new friends who enjoy yoga as much as I do! I will report back when my weekend is over to share about all the lessons, insights, and joy I have experienced.

With Grace and Love,

Kiersten ❤