41

Recently I turned 41, and this past year has felt like such a shift in energy. Whenever I feel on the cusp of something new, of something unknown, I feel myself teeter in an uncomfortable space. It’s a space full of excitement, exploration, focus, and a deep knowing. But it is also filled with uncertainty and a part of me that hums along, reminding me that we can just stay in the familiar, we can play it safe, we can just keep going as is. The problem with that voice is, I don’t want to keep going as is.

Over the years, through all the grief and death loss I’ve had to witness, I’m ready to feel alive again. I mean REALLY FEEL ALIVE. The decade of my 30’s were filled with a precious amount of joys and contentment, but if I’m being very raw and honest, it was dominantly filled with an almost decade long recovery, body and spirit, from birth trauma injury, 5 significant death losses that felt like ripping an anchor out of my life during a time I needed it most, and just trying not to lose myself into motherhood and barely having capacity for myself let alone my spouse. Was it like this every single day? Absolutely not. It was not the roller coaster quality of life I’d like to continue on with though.

The decade of my 40’s just feels like a symbolic marker of flourishing into the brave unknown, while simultaneously being rooted in everything I still love and miss about myself. It feels like a reclaiming, and a willing leap into the unknown. In fact, right now I’m writing this blog at a local cafe. It seems like a simple thing, but it’s been something I’ve been telling myself I’d do for YEARS - come to local cafes, write & post blogs, drink coffee, and run my private practice in an old school, organic way. When my kids finally both went to school full-time I thought everything would drop into place with all the time freedom, but I realized after several months of distracting myself, that I was faced with a mindset block that I had largely attributed to a lack of time to myself. I immediately recognized this part of myself as familiar, the one that plays it safe - the one who doesn’t try 100%, so I never have to say that I failed if I don’t give it my all in the first place. I realized no one was going to push me through the door, that I had to be my own biggest amp woman for my own aspirations. So I stopped waiting and gently pushed my own self through the damn door, in the most loving way possible!

This past year I reignited my love of learning the piano, which had greatly fallen off when my dog and then MIL fell sick and both died. Suddenly, there was just no time, again. And really, there was not. Some seasons really are just like this. I’ve also had the strong desire to join an adult dance class, which has always felt so intimidating!! I have tried many new adventurous things & classes over the years, and largely do not feel like I hold myself back anymore, but there are those couple things that feel so high stakes, and funny enough dance is one of those. It has been something that has connected me to my body from an incredibly young age. Looking back, I think it was a huge outlet (unknown to me at the time) to move through my grief, losing a parent so young. It gave me movement, it gave me fun, confidence, and it gave me joy and connection to myself. It gave me something to escape and get lost in, to feel weightless from all the stress of the world. I felt the most alive when I danced. I never actually joined dance classes as a child though. It’s a pretty big joke in my family that I used to dance all the time as a kid, but somehow instead of dance classes, my mom enrolled me in a bowling league instead. Talk about missing the mark…To this day I actually still hate bowling! LOL But it never stopped me from making up dance routines in my basement with my best friend, who later encouraged me to do talent shows together. When I sat in uncertainty, she was fast to be my confidence to say yes. Fast forward to current day and I recently completed my first round of Zumba classes! It felt like a good ease in to dust off the cobwebs and I loved it. I was also in my very first dance flash mob with my 6 year old daughter during her arts festival! It was SO fun, and it brings me an indescribable amount of joy to reconnect with something I love, with my child, while also setting her foundation with much more courage and support to try new things.

I suppose all my ramblings encompass what it’s like to embark on a new journey, to hold on dearly to the things we do love about ourselves and harness them in such a loving, open way, and kindly hold & ask the old parts of ourselves, that will always entertain caution in our decision making process, to gently step to the side sometimes. As I move towards the half way point of life (unless life decides otherwise), it feels like another season of my life that requires shedding and emerging. My kids are both in school, and my husband, family, and friends are wildly supportive. I am throwing myself out into the unknown to connect with my new community now that we’re settled into our home for the foreseeable future. I have no excuses to hide behind, and honestly, I feel like I want to run with this feeling as fast and as long as I can because, I too, fear when the next death lurks behind the corner. But what I have learned in grief, is that I don’t let that fear hold me back anymore, I let that fear propel me, until I’m ready to take flight.

If you’re here, if you’re reading this ~ you either know me personally, and/or you connect deeply in grief. I don’t know where you’re at in your life, in your grief, but I hope the fears that exist in you ignite your soul to propel, heart wide open, into this insanely complicated world, to root in yourself, to find your people and hold the heck out of them. And live a life that when you take your last breath, you think, “damn, it was all worth it.”

Thank you for all the love & support over the years. It’s a tremendous gratitude I could never fully express, but I know I’m a better human because of it. Here’s to the wild & unfiltered ride 41 will inevitably bring!

Cheers & Hugs,

Amber