Body Reconnection

How lucky are we that we come equipped with the best navigation system ever? Our own bodies. For the past several months I have noticed a huge shift in my life as I reconnect to my body. The best way I can describe it is that as I feel sensations of joy, love and excitement I REMEMBER. I remember that my body doesn’t lie the way my brain likes to. 

An example in my life is a job interview I had recently. My brain wouldn’t shut up about what a wonderful opportunity it was. My body, on the other hand, was contracted and I felt like throwing up from the time I got the interview call all the way through the interview process. And as much as I tried to convince myself that it was a good fit for me, I just couldn’t shake off the warning signs of my body.

And so I tried something new, I listened.

I’ve found that my brain promotes fear and worry while my body promotes trust. For a long time I let my brain rule. I let what I assumed to be rational thought rule. When I felt something was wrong in my body, I let my brain step in as the navigation system.  I’d make lists of why something was good for me when clearly my body was screaming out NO.  I rationalized many of my decisions. I overlooked all of the body warning signals and I went ahead anyway.

I was driving with my check engine light on and it got me in a lot of trouble. It resulted in a lot of tears, loss, disconnection and sadness. And then I had to turn all that shit off, so I stopped feeling altogether.  And when you don’t feel the shit, you don’t really feel the love and excitement either.

I was disconnected from myself, and as a result disconnected from everyone around me too. And now that I am reconnected, now that I REMEMBER what it feels like to have your heart open to that warm, fuzzy, chest expansion feeling.

I’m trusting.

It’s not always rational.  Actually a lot of the time it feels completely counter to what I should be doing. But as they say “Don’t should all over yourself.”

Instead, as two wise women recently told me:

TRUST OR BUST BABY!

It’s the only way to live.

'Other' Aboriginal

I have said it before, I’ve even written it before, I struggle with identity.

Who am I?

White, Red, Pink? English, Metis, Cree, Mohawk?

I was recently reading over a report by the Government of Alberta which categorized Aboriginal people living in the province as consisting of First Nations, Metis, Inuit and ‘Other’.

And there you have it. That’s me. If I really have to define myself, and for some reason I do, this is me.

‘Other’ Aboriginal.

It’s not too catchy and it doesn’t command the status of First Nation or Metis or Inuit but for me, I finally feel like I found a spot, written out in black and white and formalized by the government.

My struggle with identity is a reflection of me, a piece of a larger challenge of self-acceptance, worthiness and ultimately love. I’ve tried all different ways of fitting in. I tried to wish away my blue eyes. I grew my hair. I took every Aboriginal university class I could. I read books authored by Aboriginal writers. I attended Cree language classes when I was told that understanding language was fundamental to understanding culture. I’ve attended ceremonies and community events. I lived on reserve. I spent my whole career working with Aboriginal people, communities and organizations. I married a status man and birthed two status children.

And most of the time, if I am really, brutally honest, I shut off the inner part of me, the knowing part of me. In my quest to be good enough I shut off the part of me that provides guidance and assurance, the part that kicks in warnings to stop and step away.

I heeded the words of others and the teachings of others because I thought:

WHO THE FUCK AM I? Little white girl. Who am I to question the authority of others in a place where I have no authority? 

And after all of these years of struggle, I am choosing instead to surrender. I’m letting go. I am going to stop defining. I am going to stop paining myself to find the answer. Because there is no one way of being an Aboriginal woman. When I connect with Creator we speak the same language because I came from Creator and because I am Creator. Because no language can truly capture the essence of spirit. It is unspeakable.

But it is feelable. However you feel it. Whether it is out in nature or in the giggle of your children, or with a group of friends. That is what has become more important to me.

To feel and to trust.

Because here`s the thing. I am enough.

If I only speak English. I am enough
If I never attend another ceremony. I am enough.
If I never work on a reserve or with another Aboriginal community for the rest of my life. I am enough.

ENOUGH. ENOUGH. ENOUGH.

In my career I`ve heard it over and over and over again.

Our youth today struggle because they don`t really know who they are.

True? Maybe. I’d hazard a guess that its not just the youth who are struggling.

Maybe we should all start with ENOUGH.

You are enough. Right where you are. Right in the middle of all of the glorious fucked upness you find yourself in (or not).

You, my friend, are enough.

To Be 20 Again.....

My 20’s were a rush. Actually, I was in a rush. I thought I had to squish in everything before I was old, and by old I mean 30. I watched friends get engaged and  married (while I was still single) and I worried. Other friends attended graduate school, got promotions, started businesses, bought houses and started families. While I panicked. I felt like I was standing still.

On reflection I wonder how much of my 20s I actually enjoyed. I didn’t live in the moment; I was propelling myself forward desperate for what was to come next. Desperate for some sense of credibility which I looked for in relationships, credentials, titles and the accumulation of things.

I didn’t fully enjoy the jobs I had because I was waiting for the next promotion. I didn’t fully enjoy my freedom because I was anxious for what was to happen next. And if there was ever a time of freedom (no kids, no mortgage, no bills, no responsibility – except in my head) it was my 20s.

Not that I fault my younger self, but if I could go back or send her one message from the vantage point of my mid 30s it would be:

RELAX.
BREATHE.
BE.

I am currently in a time of letting many things fall away in my life. Relationships, obligations, my ideas of who I am supposed to be and where I am supposed to be. I am letting go of my attachment to credentials, bank account balances and things I am supposed to have. And as I let if fall away I find I have a deep gratitude for where I am.

It is not perfect by any means, and yet it is.

Right here, right now, the craziness of change swirling around me and I am in a place of SURRENDER and
TRUST knowing I am HELD and SUPPORTED.  

Like riding a horse on the edge of a mountain trail in Peru. Or walking on hot coals. Or just waking in the morning and knowing I am safe and I am cared for.

For this I am grateful.

Hail My Inner (and Outer) White Girl

                                Daughter: Do you wish you were more Cree Mom?
                                Me: Sometimes.
                                Daughter: Maybe if you just spent a little more time in the sun.


If only it were that easy. I’ve struggled with my identity for most of my life.


Who am I? Really, at the heart of me, who am I?


The product of my First Nation, status card holding Dad (who happens to be light skinned and green eyed and obviously not 100% Native), and my French/English/lordknowswhatelse Mother.  Raised in small town Alberta. I’ve always longed to come home. To find the peace of connection.

I know it's inside of me. I know no one can give it to me but me. I know it will only come when I fully embrace who I am. But its been a long road to get here.


At one point in my life I was actually considered Métis, I even had a card to prove it. And then some of the rules changed and I no longer qualified. I get it. My family is from a reserve, not a settlement and maybe you need to draw the line somewhere?


But I have to say that card gave me some space to breathe, some proof that I thought I needed.


So who am I? I have no legal entitlement to status.  I actually don’t have a land base either. All I have is this deep desire within me to connect.


The thing is it’s a connection to all of me. An honouring of every part of who I am.


When I first started my spiritual journey my Grandmother appeared to me in a dream. We only know each other in the Spirit realm. She was a little Kokum and she hugged me close and stroked my hair and told me I belonged to her. I knew it was because I was struggling. I needed my little Native Grandma to come to me, to hold me, to give me a sense of belonging. I needed her to breathe her love into me.


And then my maternal Grandma came. And she came in strong. Stormed in actually, broke a few dishes to get my attention, but that’s another story.  Maybe she was pissed off that I’d been yearning so much to be Native enough that I’d forgotten who I am.  I am a mixture. And this Grandma is important. She witnessed my childhood from her house up the street and had been my first connection to the wildness of Spirit. She’s always here. Guiding me. Loving me. A constant source of strength. How could I deny her? Why would I deny her?  How could I pretend her impact on my life was any less because she happened to be English? How could I dishonour her?


And in the process dishonour myself. We can't cut away pieces of ourselves, that's not the way it works.


Who am I?


I am Teresa. I am a woman. I am a Mother, Sister, Aunty and Friend.  I am English, French,  Cree, Mohawk, Métis and likely a bunch else. I am Human. I am Spirit.  I am so much more than any label could ever describe.


I am me. And I am ready to come home.

Shaman's Path Part 1

For quite a while in my life I have floated on the coattails of healing the sexual abuse in my life. I gave myself a pat on the back for facing such hard work and wondered why the high, the excitement and the feeling of completion didn’t really last.

Enter this weekend. The first weekend of Shaman’s Path, a program lovingly created by my mentor Sarah Salter Kelly. Weeks before the class began I feel my world start to shift. I am not grounded. I can’t find my footing and I am fighting everyone in my life. I want to escape. I can’t seem to find space for myself. I am most angered by those closest to me, my mirrors, my children and my husband. I also know that all of the chaos is likely related to my commitment to the program. I know it is going to change my life and I am both excited and terrified by the process.

At the program, I find myself struggling. In every sharing circle I see myself mirrored to me in different ways. The story that starts to emerge for me is making room in my life for me. Being heard. Feeling comfortable in my own power. And, hardest of all, loving myself.

I had fooled myself into thinking that I never felt good enough because I was feeling the shame of sexual abuse. But what happened when that story lifted away and I was still not loving myself? This weekend I came face to face with ME. My biggest critic, my biggest doubter. The person who never feels good enough. The person who has written several stories about why I can’t fully step into who I am. I am not supported enough. I am not educated enough. I am not Native enough. I am not skinny enough. I am not healed enough. I shouldn’t be in this room because I AM NOT ENOUGH. I am not worthy to be taking part in this class.

And yet here I am.

And it was really fucking hard to be there with myself mirrored back to me by everyone.  That is the power of circle work. You cannot run away because your stuff keeps being brought back to you in the story of others.

I found myself asking, if I can forgive a man who abused me, who altered the path of my childhood why can’t I forgive me? Why am I not on my own team? Why am I being so fucking tough on myself?

It was hard. And beautiful. And hard.

Today I am in gratitude. For everyone who got real and let themselves be seen. For the facilitators who held us in patience and love.  I know this is only the beginning.

 

My deepest gratitude to Sarah for bringing this program to life. For more information on her programs please see her website www.sarahsalterkelly.com

And to her co-facilitator Heather Lapp for holding space so beautifully this weekend and offering her insights. For more information see her website http://www.seeingwithinhealingcenter.com/?fb_ref=Default