Things To Remember:

Breakdowns are not to be feared. Today’s breakdown leads to tomorrow’s epic productivity and general satisfaction.

(Here’s looking at you, Wednesday morning.)

I’m allowed to do things that feel good and stop doing things that don’t.

(Like Facebook. Why am I still doing something that? My god, why?)

Read books on paper.

(It feels so much better. Like an actual, physical sensation of betterness. Kindle is great for $3 romance novels but the experience of reading on my phone is like the difference between reading Facebook and talking to a good friend in person.)

Eat some goddamn vegetables, Amber.

(You have energy when you do that, and energy is something you greatly enjoy.)

Don’t be lazy about exercise.

(I know it’s tempting but don’t.)

Water helps everything.

(When in doubt, drink some, shower in some, sit in some, go to the beach and listen to some.)

Pause and appreciate what you have as often as you can.

(Petting the cats, drinking the coffee, listening to the fountain, basking in the sun, staring at the oak trees, reading next to the man. Notice it, appreciate it, be in it.)

Taking Each Moment As It Comes

I’m sitting on our freshly-planted grass and hoping a bee doesn’t land on me. I like bees, I just don’t like them anywhere near my skin with their stingers.

Sonoma County just re-opened its beaches for properly social distant activities and this excites me even more than the buttermilk I bought for Saturday’s pancakes. Sand and sea keeps me sane and showers and rubbing salt all over my skin haven’t been sufficient.

I was off the internet for almost a full month to make some big life decisions. Getting off social media helped a whole lot more than expected. I love social media, but sometimes it’s like taking a cheese grater to my soul.

(If the internet drives you crazy too, here’s something that will help.)

In the midst of those big life decisions, I had to get very present. Sometimes that’s the only way to curb the anxiety spiral. Be fully in each moment as it’s happening, and trust the future to take care of itself.

Taking each moment as it comes is practically a requirement when the world is spinning enthusiastically off its axis. It soothes the nervous system to just notice what’s going on around you - the sound of the sprinkler hitting the grass, the smell of barbecue, the cat hiding in a flower pot to better stalk rodents. From that point of peace, we have a better connection to the small voice that knows what’s next, and can guide us there.

No mouse is safe.

Meditation Broke Me

All I did yesterday was lie on the couch meditating.

(Where “all I did” also includes eating, petting cats, falling asleep while meditating, and watching Outlander.)

For the past few days, I kept getting “go in” “time to meditate” and “stop procrastinating, Amber”. So I finally collapsed onto the couch four separate times and went down into the quantum layers of my being. Which is a fancy way of saying “lying on the couch doing nothing.”

Here’s what I interpret as Quantum Being Layers: I would shut my eyes and be taken somewhere - to a crystal cave, to the depths of my shadowy here’s-where-I’m-going-to-stuff-everything-I-don’t-want-to-deal-with, to a field where my guides would show up and say things. Basically, I just try to shut up my brain and let my soul take the wheel and show me what needs to happen.

The first meditation was great - I loved all the orphaned pieces of myself until I felt whole again. The next two meditations were murkier - I fell into old patterns of feeling like I had to manipulate light and fix myself (implying that I am broken) and generally just working really hard, rather than resting and receiving.

After I trudged into the kitchen after the third meditation - looking a lot more bedraggled than before I started - my boyfriend said “I think meditation broke you” which was fair.

So for the last meditation, I did my best to just love all the bits of myself that I want to shove away and blame for the parts of my life that I don’t like so much.

This is a time for us to quiet. To rest. To return to ourselves and the deepest layers that are asking for love and attention.

(It’s also a time to watch Outlander and pet cats.)

There’s no way to do this strange moment in time wrong. Just keep asking to be shown and given what you need, and trust that it will show up in the right way at the right time and, yes, I really hope that also works for toilet paper.

How To Thrive In Social Isolation

I’ve been reading up on the coronavirus and COVID-19 and it seems like these extreme-feeling social isolation measures are absolutely the best thing we can do to support each other right now.

Luckily, I’ve spent the last year and a half preparing for this exact moment in history.

Weirdly extreme social isolation: check!

Constant grinding fear about money / resources: check!

Incessant Netflix streaming: check!

Since “the universe was preparing me to be of service in this moment” is a much better thought than “Amber does life wrong,” I’m going with Being Prepared By The Universe. Always go with the thought that feels better rather than the thought that feels worse.

So How Do We Thrive In Unprecedented Times?

Give yourself a minute. You don’t need to immediately learn Danish or to play the medieval lute. Let yourself rest. Let yourself process. Let yourself cry. Let yourself grieve. Let yourself watch Netflix for hours. A lot of “Shakespeare wrote King Lear during the epidemic!” has been going around the internet lately, to which I say: If you diving into your novel or screenplay feels good, fan-fucking-tastic. Write things for us to read. If not, please allow me to remind you that you aren’t responsible for writing King Lear right now.

Don’t judge yourself for having feelings. You’re allowed to have feelings! You’re allowed to cry! Feel them as sensations in your body without thinking about what the feeling means. Breathe with them. Move with them. Yell them into a pillow. Shake them out.

If panic or fear sets in, soothe yourself. Our brains have been trained to panic our entire life. When you feel your thoughts careening around the hamster wheel of crazy, take a moment to soothe your nervous system.

• Breathe into your belly. As much air as you can hold, then let it all out. Repeat.

• Tap the top of your head and over your heart while saying or thinking “I have everything I need. I am safe. I am well.” Use whatever words feel the most supportive in the moment.

• Anchor yourself into the present moment. Look around at the room you’re in. What do you see? What color catches your eye? How does the air feel? What do you smell?

• Lie on the ground. The ground is a constant. It’s always there to hold and support you. Lying on the grass or putting your back up against a tree will reset your entire system. But if that’s not available, lying on your living room floor will also do the trick.

• Drop all your thoughts into your heart. Imagine all your thoughts and feelings funneling into your heart space. Your heart will dissolve anything you don’t need, and return anything you do need at a time when you can look at it more easily.

• Treat your feelings like a toddler. It just wants some attention. Ask it what it needs and how you can help. It may even give you some randomly profound message.

Let things change. We are living in unprecedented times. But we humans are incredibly adaptable. Let yourself pivot. Invite in the idea that you can thrive in this moment, whatever it looks like for you personally. That you can have more than enough (without hoarding toilet paper). That you can do great work. Love and be loved. Enjoy your life even in circumstances that look deeply limiting.

There are answers beneath the noise. Let yourself get quiet. Your inner wisdom / higher self / whatever-you-like-to-call-it wants you to tune in so it can help you out with whatever you need and want.

Own your power. You are stronger than you know. You are more innovative than you realize. You are more powerful than you ever imagined. Start tapping into that deep vein of SWEET BABY UNICORN, WE’VE GOT THIS.

Send your words in the direction of health and wellbeing. It’s easy to doubt the power of words, especially if you’ve ever repeated “I have a million dollars, I have a million dollars, I have a million dollars!” and were not immediately serenaded by the nearest leprechaun as he hands you bags of cash.

While your immediate experience isn’t under your control - that does seem to be what this time is about - the way you view it is 100% your choice. See what fresh perspective is available to you in this moment.

This morning, I got quiet for the first time in a 72-hour Netflix binge. Almost as soon as I let myself be still, I heard this: “I now accept any healing and cellular upgrades that are in the highest good of my physical, mental, emotional, and energetic bodies. I now radiate hope. I now radiate light. I now radiate love. I am peace. Thank you.” As I repeated those words, I felt them rearranging me on a deep level.

Let yourself rearrange on a deep level. It’s time. We got this.

End Times

As of midnight tonight, a shelter in place order will be in effect for the San Francisco Bay Area. What does this mean?

It means that there’s no toilet paper or rice to be had across four counties. 

Our grandparents fought in a world war; I guess I can use less toilet paper.

Where I live in Sonoma County is technically exempt - or at least hasn’t made the order official yet - but never leaving the house is how I live my life, so I might as well keep doing that. Only now I get to call it “helping humanity.” 

You’re welcome, humans. 

In my adult life, I’ve lived through 9/11, the stock crash of ‘08, Hurricane Sandy on Staten Island, the election of Trump, and multiple Sonoma wildfires. Add that to so many personal life upheavals (breakups, miscarriage, death, severely uncertain finances) that I have a very “wait and see” attitude toward looming disaster. I’ve also learned recently that one of the signs of trauma is to become eerily calm when everyone around you is panicking. I do this. It’s a safe bet that the only time I’ll be able to successfully meditate is when the zombie apocalypse is upon us.

So from my state of eerie calm and “we’ll see”, the question on my mind is: at what point during the lockdown will it become socially acceptable to ask Twitter to moderate arguments? 

(Can he get mad at me because there isn’t enough butter in the cookies when he made the cookies but I wasn't in the kitchen to stop him from doing it wrong, Y/N.)

The other question is, how many pictures can I share of the cat before it gets obnoxious? 

Social distancing means helping the kitties with their Tinder profiles.