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.