Finding Inner Freedom

How can you find your freedom right now, in this moment? For those of us lucky enough to not be working on the front lines of this pandemic, we might be struggling with a myriad of emotions on a daily basis. You might be feeling sad, angry, hopeless, guilty or even rageful. And you also might be experiencing joy, peace, and gratitude. It's likely that you're vacillating between a few of those states.

It's important to remember that none of these feelings are wrong. No emotional experience is wrong.

During times such as these, it can be useful to have a mantra such as, "This too shall pass," or "This too belongs." This serves as a gentle reminder that, "No feeling is final." When we have the awareness that emotional states are temporary, this can serve as a gateway for more internal freedom.

The Mother of All Transitions Part Three: Opening Up to Feeling it All

The first time I held our little son in my arms my heart expanded to ten times its previous size. It might be a cliche but it is also true; there is nothing as powerful as a mother's love. Before having Sam (who's name means "God has heard" in Hebrew) I didn't know that I was capable of feeling a love that deep and that wide.

The first days and weeks after Sam's birth were like a second honeymoon of sorts for my husband and me. There wasn't tons of intense lovemaking (hahaha) but there was a feeling of deep connection, joy and gratitude that permeated our lives and got us through the tough moments.

And of course there were many tough moments! I don't mean to make it sound as though having a newborn is easy. We definitely had our challenges between lack of sleep and trouble breastfeeding. But the overall mood was dream like. I had wanted a baby for SO long and he was finally here. I was floating on a cloud of maternal joy.

The feeling I can liken it to most is the honeymoon phase of a relationship. I was gaga over Sam and so was my husband. Every coo, smile, and gurgle filled me up with waves of joy which saw me through the tough moments of overwhelm and lack of sleep. For the most part, I was riding on a wave of love and I didn't feel the tiredness and overwhelm that some people feel in the days and even months after giving birth.

I can credit this to the help I had from my husband who was able to take a couple of weeks off from work and who has had a natural gift from the beginning for being a  great "Dad." Sam and he had an immediate bond and it has been wonderful to watch their relationship grow and evolve. I was also fortunate enough to have support from my mother who came to stay with us for a couple of weeks in the first month of Sam's life.

I also continued bi-monthly meetings with my therapist, which helped to ease and reframe any fears that were coming up. Furthermore, I had years of inner work to help guide me through this motherhood transition. Having this strong foundation helped me to remain present to the gift that Sam was (and is) and not get sucked down the rabbit hole of worry and anxiety.

However there was a shadow that nipped at my heels, even during this time of whole-hearted loving. In the cocoon of our home, everything felt picture perfect. But when I tore myself away from the gaze of our little one and opened myself up to what was going on in the country and world, my chest started to tighten and I felt myself retreat from my heartspace up to my head.

Sam was born just after Trump was elected president and it is no exaggeration to say that I was devastated. Between the extreme right-wing immigration policies, the destructive environmental policies, and the lack of any meaningful action on gun control, it seemed as though bad news was everywhere. And slowly and steadily, this bad news started to worm its way into my consciousness.

Fear and love are close neighbors in the heart. It seemed as though the more I loved my son, the more fear I felt about the world we humans were leaving for him and all the children of the world. The grief, anxiety and powerlessness I felt around this was sometimes overwhelming. I could be sitting next to Sam reading him a story and feeling his soft body curled into mine and suddenly be overtaken by guilt and terror for the world that he could one day inherit.

It was often the case that when my heart would open up to the vulnerability of loving Sam and our family, that fear would slip through the opening that I had created and steal my joy.

Cognitively I knew this was no way to live, but emotionally I couldn't seem to break through the cycle of fear, anxiety, sadness, numbness-- wash, rinse, repeat. As much as I wanted to find answers and comfort "out there" from my husband, therapist, books, friends and community, deep down I also knew that the only answer that I'd ever truly be satisfied with would have to come from within.

After the birth of Sam, my consistent inner work practices had largely fallen away. I was simply too tired and expending too much time and energy taking care of this little baby that I had forgotten about taking care of myself. I had forgotten that taking care of myself was also taking care of Sam. And that I would be a much better mommy if I invested in self-care.

It took falling into a pretty dark hole to realize that I needed to do some deep re-investment in myself. But where was I going to find the time? I was teaching, coaching and "momming" all the time. By the time I got done with work, I was exausted and "inner-work" was the last thing I wanted to do!

What I have come to realize is that inner work and self-care can take many forms. Resting and napping when Sam is sleeping has been a key piece of the puzzle for me. I have taken the advice that I heard from many mothers to "sleep when the baby sleeps" to heart. Fewer things affect my mood more deeply than a lack of sleep. And there are few things sweeter than curling up with my now three year old to rest-- even when a pile of dishes or a client's email beckons.

I've also had to remind myself that I can show up for myself in small ways. At the moment it feels impossible to commit to a daily 20 minutes meditation practice, but can I pause and take one deep breath before getting out of bed in the morning or when I hear Sam calling for me? Of course I can. Inherent in that one mindful breath is the opportunity to reset and to come back to myself.

Throughout my adult life journaling has been a touchstone for me that has allowed me to express my pain and bring me back to center again and again. Since Sam has been born, it's been harder to find the inner discipline to write. However, when I do make the time, I feel the difference-- big time! When stuck in resistance (which shows up for me mostly as a feeling of tiredness) it is helpful to make and keep small promises to yourself. Maybe it's that I promise to do one minute of journaling or that I just write a simple gratitude list.

Any time that you carve out for stillness and inner work is a plus and it is normal for that to look very different than it did before you had a child. 

Sam just celebrated his third birthday and I am profoundly aware that becoming a mom has absolutely transformed me. I have little doubt that motherhood will continue to transform and break me open again and again. What has shifted is that I know see this breaking open as a gift. When my heart is broken open by fear or worry and I drop below the story of the fear, I see that there is an enormous opportunity in suffering. Suffering is an opportunity to heal at a deeper level. Suffering is an opportunity to release and transform old stories and beliefs. Suffering is ultimately a part of the deal of being a human being born on this planet. The key for me has been to meet this suffering, get curious about it, and even welcome it with compassion and acceptance.

How has being a mother changed you? What practices have served you in the motherhood transition? As always, I would love to hear from you!

The Mother of All Transitions Part Two: Birth

The birth experience was very important to me. I had it all planned out. I had a mid-wife and a doula. My husband and I had created a "birth plan" which was an unmedicated, vaginal water birth assisted by the mid-wife and with the support of a doula. It was going to be the perfect "hippy birth," but our soon-to-arrive son had other plans...

He was breach. I found this out about a month before his due date, however he had been breach for a long time and somehow my midwife had missed it... she had mistaken his tush for his head. I was so distraught when I found out he was breach. I set out to do as much as possible to turn him around naturally. I listened to tapes, did yoga poses, went to a chiropractor but nothing seemed to help. Every time I went back to the midwife he was still breach.

I was devastated. I knew that our soon-to-arrive son was likely going to be our only child. And partially because of that I selfishly wanted the "whole birth experience." I had a false belief in my head that if my son wasn't born "au-natural" that that somehow made me less of a woman.

I was also worried because I knew that the science said that it was better for the baby to travel through the birth canal. When babies are being born, the physical action of them traveling down the birth canal develops their lungs. When they travel through the vagina, the bacteria that is present actually protects them against disease.

I wanted the best for our baby and I already felt like I was failing at providing that. 

Desperate for a solution that would give me and our son the best chance for a natural childbirth I decided to opt for an external cephalic version. This is a procedure that is done in a hospital. The doctor (and in my case assisted by the midwife) attempts to turn the baby from a breech position to the head-down position preferred for a vaginal birth. This is done by the doctor pressing on the outside of the mother's belly to get the baby to flip in the womb. As this is being done, the babies heart is being monitored and an ultrasound is used to help guide the process.

The day came for my husband and I to go to the hospital to get the version. I was nervous and cautiously optimistic. I knew that versions were successful fifty percent of the time. There was a good chance we could be in that fifty percent. But I also had a nagging feeling that it wouldn't work. That I wouldn't be able to have the birth that I wanted and that felt like a huge loss. I'm gamely tried to bat away the anxious thoughts nipping at my heels, "What if it doesn't work? What if I have to have a C-section?"

We checked into the hospital around five and we were led to the room where the procedure would take place. Soon after we were told that the doctor was running late he would be there in two hours. My husband and I sat in the hospital room counting down the minutes and hours until he arrived. We then received another phone call... he was running an additional two hours behind! My anxiety shot through the roof. How could I be expected to sit here for four hours just waiting to find out if our baby could successfully be turned. I honestly can't remember how we passed the time, but somehow we did. Finally at almost ten o'clock at night, the doctor and midwife arrived.

I had been told that getting an epidural would increase my chances of having our little guy turn through the manual version. Reluctantly I had agreed. A anethetist with the bedside manor of Oscar the Grouch administered the epidural. Then the doctor, assisted by the midwife began trying to turn the baby. As they tried to turn him, he was being monitored by ultrasound. There were able to see him and monitor his heart rate.

All of a sudden his heart-rate dropped. He was going into distress. I felt panic rise in me. Hurting our baby was the last thing I had intended! The doctor and midwife stopped trying to turn our little man. Thankfully his heart rate returned to normal. I exhaled a huge sigh of relief. Grateful that no permanent damage had been done.

The mid-wife came over to us and said we had three options: 1) Get a C-Section right now. 2) Go home and return for a C-Section in a week. 3) Go to a doctor she knew in the city who would deliver a breech baby naturally. In my mind there was only one option: get the c-section right away. I couldn't imagine going home and waiting a week-- terrified the whole time that the manual version had caused stress and his heart rate would plummet again. I also wasn't up for taking the risk to deliver breech with a doctor I didn't know and hadn't formed any kind of relationship with. Emergency C-section it was!

Brian and I looked at each other. Little had we guessed when we came to the hospital this afternoon that we would be meeting our little man this soon!

The "Mother" of All Transitions Part One: Pregnancy

When we got pregnant-- after over two years of trying, I was over the moon with happiness. The previous two years had been fraught with tension, monthly disappointment, and the gnawing tick-tock, tick-tock of my biological clock, which seemed to be speeding up as the months and years went by. After getting a positive pregnancy test (on Mother's Day, no less) it felt like I had an incredible secret that I wanted to shout from the rooftops. I cannot recall many times in my life where I felt more happy or alive.

However, because I'm on the sensitive-anxious spectrum, my joy was soon overtaken by worry. "What if I miscarry?" became a frequent refrain in my head. Now that I was actually pregnant, the possibility of loss seemed too terrifying to imagine and also too possible. I was scared to breathe for fear I might miscarry this beautiful wish that I had been longing for. The possibility of loss had never felt so present and so scary before.

It wasn't until my dear therapist Sheryl Paul suggested that I get into nature and go for a walk, that some of my anxiety dissipated and I was able to rein in the specter of fear enough that I could breathe again. Over the years I've found that a surefire way for me to regain my center is to take in nature in one of its many forms-- be it gazing at the moon and stars, sitting by the sea, or walking among tall and silent firs. When I'm in places such as those, the inner chatter dissipates and I'm able to hear my Big Self. The Self that is connected to something greater than the "little me" who sometimes gets caught in the web of worry and discontent.

After that day of bathing in nature, the anxiety receded. When the anxious part of myself would pipe up with a "What if..." I was able to turn inward and do the work of soothing that part of myself who has a hard time sitting with uncertainty.

It is a strange thing to be growing a human in your belly. I could see the outward manifestation of my belly getting larger. I could feel what started off as butterfly flutters and what transformed into real honest-to-goodness kicks, but I couldn't see my baby. And because of that, I had to trust that no matter what happened I would be okay and our baby would be okay.

Aside from sensitivity and being prone to anxiety, my "advanced maternal age" (as doctor's like to call it) contributed to my fears that it all could go horribly wrong. I had just turned 38 when I got pregnant and had heard all the stats about fertility going into decline after the age of 35 and the risk of complications skyrocketing.

However, when I tuned into my Inner Wisdom the refrain was always the same, "You are safe and it will all be okay." Over the days and months of my pregnancy I had a few daily practices that really helped me to ground and stay connected to that "still-point" that lives inside all of us. Perhaps one or more of these practices will be resonant for you.

Journaling: Over the course of my pregnancy I kept two journals. One in which I poured out my fears and connected with my own Inner Wisdom. And another, in which I sent letters to our unborn son, letting him know how much he was loved already. The first practice helped me to steady my anxious thoughts and connect with my own source of guidance. The second practice helped me to connect more deeply with my growing belly and to feel more of a connection with the little baby that I had yet to meet.

Reiki: When I was pregnant I would give Reiki to both myself and our unborn child. I would place my hands on my belly and send my little one light and love. During these times of silent communion, I was able to feel a deep connection with the little person growing inside of me.  Even now, I have a daily Reiki self-care practice that helps me to connect with my breath, ground, center and soothe. It is non-negotiable time for me to turn inward, connect with life-force energy and revitalize.

Prayer: At the end of the day, when I'd curl up in bed and the dark thoughts would sometimes overtake me it was helpful to simply pray. I'm not a religious person (in the sense that organized religion doesn't resonate with me) but I do believe in the power of prayer. Sometimes all that was needed was some quiet time, with closed eyes and a silent prayer that my husband and I be guided and supported as we embarked on this journey into the unknown.

When I was pregnant, little did I know how much my world would be rocked by the birth of our little guy. Stay tuned for The Mother of All Transitions Part Two: Labor and Delivery.

I would love to hear from you in the comments. What was your pregnancy journey like? Or if you hope to become pregnant what have you been struggling with?

Watering the Plant of Intimate Relationships

Today I want to talk about connection. It's something we all want more of and something that in today's culture, many of us are lacking. We lack real connection with friends, family members and even the people who are closest to us: our partners.

Our society doesn't set us up for making connection a priority. Sure there's phones, text messaging and social media, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about heart to heart connection that can only happen when the phones are put down and we can slow down enough to really take one another in.

If you have children, it only gets more challenging to create the space to connect. But what happens when we don't make connection a priority?

Our relationships are like plants that need proper nurturing to grow and without tending they whither and eventually die.

Recently I've been struggling with connection. My husband and I are the parents to an amazing (and rambunctious) two year old boy. I have a coaching business and also teach at a university. My husband has his own demanding job. Sometimes it can feel as if we are simply tag-team parenting and passing like ships in the night.

What we've realized is that we need to make more time to slow down and connect-- even if it means that the blog post doesn't get written or the house doesn't get cleaned. It's important to let go of perfection and make time to water the relationship.

Watering your relationship doesn't have to look like going out to a fancy dinner and a Broadway show (although it can). It can also be about taking ten minutes at the end of a busy day to sit down next to each other, check-in and have a few minutes of heart connection. It's can be about taking the extra ten seconds to hug and kiss your partner good-bye, rather than rushing out the door and yelling, "Love ya bye!"

When we make space for connection with our partners, everything gets easier. The connection lightens our load and helps us to remember that we're not doing it all alone. It helps us to reconnect with what made us fall in love with this person in the beginning. And it brings more of a lightness to the routine of every day life. It helps us connect to gratitude and when we are grateful for what we have, we see the world in an entirely different way.

What's one action you can take this week to slow down and connect with a partner or friend? Notice how it shifts your perception and makes you feel more full inside.

I'm Back!

Hello dear audience! I haven't posted to my blog in about two years and during that time, I've undergone massive changes both professionally and personally. The biggest thing that's happened in my life is that I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy-- who is now entering toddlerhood! Professionally during this time I completed a Transformational Coaching program with Leadership that Works.

With all of these changes, my area of focus has changed radically. Through lots of self-inquiry led by a longing for more fulfillment as well as an inner knowing, I've switched my area of focus to guiding highly sensitive people through periods of transition. I've been doing this work for over a year now and find it immensely gratifying and fulfilling.

My intention is to become more active in creating more content for my blog and website so that you, dear reader, have a sense of who I am and who I'm becoming.

In that vein, a poem of sorts came through me today that the fearless part of me feels compelled to share. I hope that it resonates with you and perhaps even gives you a moment of peace.

Inner Space

Can  you find stillness even in the chaos of living?
Can you allow the world to swirl around you...
And still remain steady?

If you can't... okay
Be with that.

Remember Rumi:
"This being human is a guest house..."
Wherever you are is okay.
Your awareness makes it okay.

When you don't allow for what is,
You get stuck.

What would it be like to accept your life
As it is?
What would it be like, to not need
The externals to change?
Can you allow yourself to breathe into
The swirling movement of life?

What would happen if you could let go?
What would you make room for?
Happiness...
A ray of joy perhaps....
More comfort with imperfection...

Make a bit of space for that right now...
What happens?


Sending you light and love,

Sarah

Five Ways to Get Creatively Un-Stuck

I'm currently teaching a scene study class in Manhattan and a lot of my students speak to me about feeling "stuck." They feel unable to make progress in their acting career and find themselves spending lots of time in unfulfilling jobs that pay the rent but leave them little time to fill their creative wells. The good news for my students is that taking a class is one great way to get unstuck!

When you take a class, you're recommitting to your artistic path and telling your fear-based mind that you're going to do something creative and good for your well-being. Fear is what keeps us feeling stuck, so ANY positive action we take to nurture our creative selves tells fear that it's not in charge anymore.

One of my favorite quotes about the relationship between fear and creativity is from Elizabeth Gilbert. She writes:

I understand that you are Fear, and that your job is to be afraid. And you do your job really well! I will never ask you to go away or to be silent, because you have a right to speak your own voice, and I know that you will never go away or be silent, anyhow. But I need you to understand that I will always choose Creativity's ideas over yours. You may join us on this journey — and I know that you will — but you do not get to choose the direction in which we will walk, and you will not stop me and Creativity from making plans and decisions together.

Fear is always going to be with us. It is part of what makes us human, but fear should never be in the driver's seat. It can go along with us on our creative journey, but it can't be a decision maker. Too many of us allow fear to make our decisions for us. We choose what is known, what is safe and what will pay the bills. We sacrifice the very things that make us come alive because they make us feel too vulnerable, are too hard, and often don't pay the bills. There's a big cost to this; the cost is our sense of aliveness and creative fulfillment. Below are some ideas that you can implement to get you out of that stuck place and back into a state of creative flow.

• Take a Class. As I mentioned earlier, taking a class is a good first step to reconnect with the creative expression we love. It creates an opportunity for us to find community with other like-minded artists and offers us the chance to learn something new, sharpen our skills and get inspired. That being said, make sure you aren't taking a class to avoid participating in your art! Classes are great, but not if they serve as an excuse to avoid putting yourself out there.

• Do Something Every Day for your Craft. Commit to doing one thing for your artistic self everyday. This could be something like practicing a new monologue with a friend, going on an audition, seeing a play or sending out a submission to that agent you've been wanting to meet. We often feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work it takes to keep an artistic career going. It can help us feel more in control by committing to doing one thing per day for our artistic self. 

• Keep a Log. Write down (either in a journal or on the Notes app on your phone) a list of what you've done daily for your career. At the end of the month, you can look at the list with a sense of pride at all you've accomplished. It's also a good way to help take stock of what actions bore fruit and what actions did not. For some people (and I count myself in this group), the action of writing down what you've accomplished each day encourages you to keep honoring your commitment to yourself.

• Find an Accountability Partner. This is someone with whom you meet with on a weekly basis to encourage each other and to talk about what you've done for your artistic career. This is not the same thing as getting together with a friend and kvetching about how terrible the acting industry is! It's a scheduled weekly meeting where you get together specifically to strategize about what is (and isn't) working in your artistic life. Your partner is someone from whom you get support and give support. Finding a good accountability partner can be one of the most powerful things that you do for your creative life because it gives you a sense that you're not in this alone.

• Log Off Social Media. I know you're probably saying: what does social media have to do with being stuck? Often what keeps us stuck and inactive is comparing ourselves to others. Self-comparison is one of the primary by-products of social media. It's hard to move ourselves to act if we feel like we'll never measure up to what everyone else is doing. It's helpful to take a social media fast for thirty days in order to reboot and focus on taking positive steps rather than comparing ourselves to others.

We all get stuck from time to time, it's part of the human experience. The key is to recognize that you're stuck and to take that first step towards getting unstuck. The first step is always the hardest. We as humans are naturally lazy and tend towards complacency. However once you get the proverbial "ball rolling" it becomes easier and easier to keep making strides toward your creative goals. I would love to hear from you. What do you do to get unstuck when you find yourself mired in complacency? Feel free to respond in the comments!