Writing has been a massive part of my recovery. In 2021 and 2022, I wrote daily—files, pages, and word count in the multiple five figures.Â
I punched out emails, poems, prose, and essays on my keyboard while twilighting as a DJ, double-fisting my two favourite hobbies. A metaphoric head-on collision happened in late winter. The rubble and remains made their way into an entirely unexpected level of recovery, words and playlists lost out to extra long walks and the art of staying present in my body. A catastrophe could be a good thing.
Last weekend, I spent four days tucked away in a cabin, at a writing retreat for high-control survivors in rural Vermont. Loaded with fear and wet feet, I bravely returned to the possibility of writing. Guided by my dearest writing coach, Gerette, I wrote through tears, laughter, awe, gutwrenching pain, truths I have never told, moments of beauty I couldn't see, and came out the other side with a sensation, something I have never felt.Â
The evolution of words gathered on paper scratched into a Moleskin notebook came from my body. Yes, this body, this place I have lived all my life, but only now, through the pain of recovery, found access to new hovels of words, through the pain of trauma and accepting incredible new-found pleasure I have seen in returning to explore my darkness with dignity and grace.
I hope to share more. Â
from the body, with love,
Ps. Super quick—I have room to take on one new client, so if you, or anyone you know, would like to work with me for Integration Coaching...hit reply and say 'ME' (and/or forward this email to a friend) and let's see if we're a fit. Â
Pss. I also decided that karaoke wearing a Kirkland brand shirt, Adidas sneakers, and a sequined skirt, is my fashion. Finally, I feel cool!!
You got to know when to hold 'em. That outfit is 💯!