What are yours?
If any of the themes below resonate with you, I’d love to hear from you.
with love ✨, CATHERINE
Observations on moving, breathing and being. These are mine.
I’ve been writing them down since 2020.
I took a long pause. I’m back now.
On connection
I often don't allow myself to lean into emotion the way I did last week. I tuned inward, into my body and its sensations. Into the heaviness and emptiness alike. My yard becoming my medicine, my solace.
This week, my yard remained my medicine, but in community. The weight was light, the space full.
On smiling
I’ve been smiling (and laughing) a lot lately. It’s been through connecting to people, places and activities that bring me joy. It’s been through releasing that which doesn’t through journalling, meditating and walking, e.g. Through it all, I’ve turned more inwards than ever before, noticing how “alive” I feel from allowing myself to be in the present moment—smiling and laughing and experiencing that which is around me.
On the hills we climb
Inspiration can come at many different times and from many different sources. For me, most recently inspiration came on Inauguration Day from the steps of the United States Capitol by way of the words eloquently written and spoken by a young woman born in 1998 in Los Angeles, CA—now a household name, Amanda Gorman.
As did many of us, I found her poetry to be so moving and so in tune with the love and healing messages heard earlier that day from Vice President Harris and President Biden. Within her lines, the ideals of unity, of healing, of grief and of hope echoed loudly.
A reflection on the importance of the hug
Virginia Satir, often referred to as the pioneer of family therapy, highlighted the importance of physical touch overall—and specifically hugs—when she equated modes of life (survival, maintenance, growth) with the number of hugs received per day (4, 8, 12).
The need for touch is real. It is a significant part of the human experience, connecting us to self and to others. Without it, we can feel deprived, even starved, for physical contact with another.
A reflection on breaking open your heart
For many years, I kept my heart closed in an effort to protect myself. After enough hurt and disappointment, I decided that my fear of pain was more important to protect than was my desire for connection to nurture. And so it went. For many years.
And then I found therapy. Similar to my first few years of my yoga journey, I showed up each week, rolling out my mat or sitting on the couch, thinking that that was “the Work”. All the while, I sensed these undercurrents slowly signaling to me that there was more to it. I ignored as much as I could, convincing myself for some time that just showing up was enough.