This week has been all about my inner child.

Because last week, I hired a sex coach. (“Wait, what is a sex coach and what does that have to do with her inner child?” I didn’t know either, stay with me.)

For years, I’ve known that I have blocks around sex. I’m nervous just talking about it here. What will they think of me? Well, I hope by the end of this post, you will think, “wow, I hadn’t thought of it that way. I didn’t realize I was cutting myself off from life.”

Growing up, I got the message loud and clear that sex was dirty and gross. Even as adults, sex is something we keep “in the bedroom” and struggle to talk about. But if we keep it locked away, try to pretend it doesn’t exist, and try to pretend the parts of our lives and our bodies it’s connected to aren’t important, we’re not whole. 

Maybe you’re not like me. Maybe there’s no hint of stigma or dirtiness about sex for you. Maybe you can comfortably talk about dicks and pussies all day long and you live in a world of infinite sensual pleasure. I know people like that. They trigger and challenge me and I am so grateful for them. I am not one of them.

What I discovered on the consultation call with my sex coach, is that my issue, at its core, is that I cut myself off from pleasure. Sexual and non-sexual pleasure. Whether it’s telling myself I don’t need to eat something sweet, ignoring masturbation as an option entirely, or immediately upon feeling delight or satisfaction in the session with my coach, my brain intruding with the thought that I should stop and make sure she’s okay.

After telling her what I was experiencing, she observed, “it seems like you can easily access the negative, uncomfortable feelings in your body, but you’re less practiced at experiencing the pleasurable ones.”

This hit me right in the heart. Right in the soul. I had never thought of it that way. I’m a sadness ninja. Give me all the sadness, I know exactly how to feel that. So much of what I do is helping others feel their emotions, especially the hard ones, so they can get to the bottom of what their souls are really telling them.

Well, my soul is like, ENOUGH ALREADY! We know you can feel the hard stuff. WHEN DO WE GET TO HAVE FUN!? 

This is where my inner child comes in. At some point, prettttty early in life, she learned that it’s more important to take care of the people around us and manage their emotions than notice our own.

This shows up in just about every relationship in my life, including my relationship with myself. There’s a very small, very young part of me that is holding so tight to what she thinks is her job. To be vigilant and responsive to others and aggressively suppress her own emotions. To perform happiness and gratitude on top of disappointment, rage and hopelessness. My desires, my pleasure, my SELF, did not matter. I did not exist. 

So now, my work is to unearth that precious, stunted being. To lift her up and make it safe for her to express desires. To recognize them. To say no to the parts that want to keep them unmet, and to be present with her while she enjoys them.

Lucky for me, this does require my hard emotion ninja-ry. There’s a lot of anger to express and there are a lot of tears to cry to get to the wanting underneath. But we’re already starting to look at life differently. Little Muunie is sitting next to me, getting excited about things and feeling confident that Big Muunie won’t shut her down. Big Muunie is here, to cry AND play with. Her anger is important. Her sadness is felt. Her joy is celebrated. Her pleasure is essential.

The other day at ecstatic dance (a sober dance event with a DJ that’s about moving how you feel) I overheard someone telling his friend that he loves it, but stopped coming for a while. He said, “sometimes I deny myself the things that bring me the most joy.”

YES! WHY DO WE DO THAT?! Why do we resist things that feel good?

There’s the classic, “I always feel better after a workout, but I struggle to get to the gym.” This makes sense. Exercise is hard. But what about things with a lower barrier to entry that JUST FEEL GOOD?

Newton’s Law of Inertia says that an object at rest tends to stay at rest. (And an object in motion tends to stay in motion.) I think this explains why in the gym scenario, it helps to get up and put your shoes on. Now we’re in motion. 

The exact wording on Wikipedia is: “Every body continues in its state of rest…unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it.” 

There has to be a significant enough force to change states. 

Okay. We want joy. Why isn’t that enough? Psychological inertia? If we’re sad, or bored, or numb, or angry, it takes a significant force to shift into something else. An object that’s sad tends to…stay sad?

Maybe there’s also fear - “what if it doesn’t work?” From inside an emotion, it seems like whatever’s happening will continue. 

Okay. Let’s introduce a force.

Maybe we go for something quick and dirty. Low barrier to entry, a guaranteed fix. Like the raw cookie dough my partner keeps buying even though I tell him not to because I don’t have the force to resist eating it. It doesn’t make me feel good long-term (or even medium-term), but it’s definitely going to taste good right now.

Sometimes cheap joy get us in motion and reminds us that the other kind of joy is possible. But usually, I just eat the cookie dough and feel gross.

I know that. You know that. So let’s address an opposing force at play here: self-sabotage. We all have an inner “fuck you.” A shadow. A little devil on our shoulder that wants to fuck shit up.

We want to feel good; our brain knows that cookie dough (or your cheap joy of choice) requires minimum force.

Then in comes the little devil saying, “you already feel like trash, eat the cookie dough.” An object that feels like trash tends to stay feeling like trash. 

Underneath the desire to feel good, we also have a trash feeling. The part of us holding onto guilt and shame. The part of us harboring a secret feeling that we don’t deserve happiness. That we’re the one person joy won’t work on. That we’re insignificant and bad and it doesn’t matter anyway. 

Mr. “fuck you” can use this internal inertia to strengthen his case. Then it takes even more force to overcome.

But the good news is, if we stay and dig deeper, underneath the trash feeling, there is an even deeper desire for everyone, including us, to be happy and at peace. Like an emotion sandwich: desire to be happy, desire to be sad, desire to be happy.

If we can tap into that, knowing we’re up against inertia, we have a better chance of mustering the required force to get back in motion.

An object dancing tends to stay dancing.

Right now, everything smells like smoke after a much needed smudging of the apartment. 

(If you’ve never burned sage to clear the vibes and don’t know what I’m talking about, hit me up and I will share this magic with you.)

Traveling for 44 days, I was without my toolkit for so long, I’d forgotten what a difference it makes. 

A room that felt heavy and sad five minutes ago (and a me that matched) now feels light and bright.

When I go back to Mexico in a couple days, I will not forget my essentials. Tarot cards, something to burn, a crystal or two, and my new Laughing Buddha.

I bought this little statue in Philadelphia Chinatown. He is shiny, warm gold, with the trim on his robe and his lips painted red. He has a big smile, a big round belly, and is carrying an overflowing basket of treasures.

When I saw him, I knew this was an energy I was missing.

I consider myself a minimalist (and a recovering control freak). I truly believe less is more, and that a simpler, less cluttered life, is a freer, more alive one. The more you have, the more you have to spend time, money and energy caring for. For example, I just cut all my hair off. I am no longer pouring my energy into it, worrying about how it looks, maintaining it and feeling the weight of it on my head.

I love living this way. There’s room for the people and things I really care about.

But this energy, too, can be out of balance. I’ve leaned a little too far in this direction. Pouring too much energy into stripping away and letting go.

Minimalism alone doesn’t force you to focus on what matters. You also have to let yourself enjoy the fruits. That’s what MAGNETIZES you to juicy, abundant deliciousness.

Being depressed for most of my life, growing up with money I didn’t earn, I didn’t feel like I deserved joy or richness. I was desperate to evict myself from entitlement, and ended up with deep unworthiness.

I was so afraid to be the excessiveness around me, I made myself excessively small.

But my Laughing Buddha isn’t worried about being too much, or having too much, or…anything. He’s just full. He radiates joy and abundance, and shares it generously.

That’s what I want. To be so full as to be effortlessly generous. Not to be empty because I’m afraid.

Thank you, little Buddha, for reminding me to be GOLD. Now, get in my backpack, we’re going to Mexico.

Two days into renting a camper van, it’s pretty clear van life isn’t for me. I spent the weekend confidently telling everyone at my sister’s 50th birthday party that my partner and I were planning to build one so I can live between LA and Mexico. 

Probably not.

Major respect to people that make van life work. Personally, I can’t stop hitting my head on the ceiling, finding Internet to do our jobs is its own job and although we can cook because it has a fridge, a stove top, a microwave, a sink and a pantry, they just take up space because all we want to do is escape to the sweet, sweet sanctuary of a restaurant. 

I thought having everything in one small, well-designed space would make life easier. But in trying to do everything, it’s doing nothing.

On the heels of the Super Bowl of family time, two weeks into traveling and cohabitating, and now squeezed into a van while on my period, I watched myself contract into someone unrecognizable. Except, I recognize her as who I used to be. Someone living for others at my own expense, while trying to be invisible.

It didn’t work.

Hearing old thoughts bouncing around my brain again is scary. I forget that it’s only temporary, that we can weather these emotions, and that we know exactly why we’re here. This whole trip is about revisiting the past to clear the wounds those thoughts were born from. 

But it’s hard to keep the flame alive in these suffocating environments.

In a much needed session with my coach, I got a message:

Wide. Open. Magic.

She needs breathing room and connection. To herself, to others and to the bigger universe. To remember herself as a carrier of joy, spontaneity, inspiration. To feel her part of nature, emotions flowing, undammed and free.

Thank God I can lie down, diagonally across the mattress, stretch and feel the sun on my face through the tiny window above my head, and remember what I am. 

Last week, I pushed through the discomfort of telling people I had a blog. It’s the worst part of having a blog, aside from writing it. 

I got some really exciting and heartfelt responses. It reminded me why I bother. And it activated the part of me that is afraid to let you down. I think that’s called…caring? So, with my heart beating just a little harder, here I am, writing and caring.

In one of the responses, a friend asked for “words of wisdom for upending your life.” The life coach in me is tickled. 

As it turned out, there was something very specific that I needed to hear. I was grateful to her for drawing it out.

Sometimes, I get stuck in ‘efficiency mode’: let’s only do what is necessary and avoid wasting time or money.

En route to the East coast, my partner Ike and I are currently in a little Colorado mountain town between two halves of a train ride he insisted we take. The train is twice as slow as driving. TWICE. This excursion and this whole mode of transportation were entirely inefficient, which I reminded him often. 

But, it was essential.

It’s essential to take the long, windy road and leave room for life to surprise you. Those are the days where you get to the end, because you spent the afternoon relaxing in a huge, geothermally-heated public mineral pool and then stumbled into an unbelievably corny vaudeville dinner show, and you go, wow. That was weird. I am satiated. 

You feel it in your body. You sleep well at night. You wake up, shrug your shoulders because it’s all a question mark, and get ready to do it again.

But all this mirth and togetherness and spending money has the part of me that thinks I’m being frivolous and neglecting my responsibilities very nervous. 

This morning, I opened my emails and started to respond to things that had piled up, including my friend’s email. 

I told her, “document how you are feeling along the way and reflect on where you were.”

Until deciding to move to LA in 2018, I was lonely, depressed, and made pretty much every decision based on my future and career. I’m still unwinding that program.

Soon after making a change, you focus on the next set of problems. You forget the ones you solved because they're not there anymore. Traveling with Ike, having fun and being together all of the time has solved my longest standing problem: loneliness. But if I don't take time to recognize and appreciate that, a week in, I’m back in efficiency mode, worrying I'm doing something wrong.

This is what it feels like to change, to stretch my capacity to enjoy myself. There’s tension between the old way and the new way, arguing in my brain as I walk my new walk.

It doesn’t feel perfect all the time. It isn’t supposed to. But it feels right.

Joy. Ease. I had major breakthroughs with them this week. There were still parts of me holding onto fear that I’m not doing my best if I am living my joy and living with ease.

The truth is: BECAUSE I’m living my joy and living with ease, I embody my purpose. I know because I FEEL IT. I am exactly where I need to be, doing exactly what I need to do. There is no question.

channel a poem in 2 minutes

i said

is it possible

could it be any good

is there any point doing it

is there any point brewing it

without sitting down and stewing in it

AH! I caught you! part me that shows up no matter what

first guest to the party

mr why bother

the impossible imposter

i could give myself all the time

and i’m greeted by the same guy

i will ever be enough

so why not, open a portal

in the time it takes to take a shit

take a little word shit

sit on the typing toilet and let it ride

you can push or just let it slide 

let it go

let it flow

after all, you’ll never know

who might read it and think

ha! i’m glad this little turd exists

my day is a little browner for it

no need to edit, no need to stare

just wave goodbye

as it takes flight

and feel the way it feels

to just be light