Flowdreaming Podcast 599: Lost (and Found) Inner Children

Sweet child of mine!

What does that inner baby inside have to say to you? How much attention have you given them? Do they come out into your life and play, or do you keep that ‘little you’ locked up in your parental jail? Let’s find your lost inner child and let them out to create some sparkle and joy in your life.

Spend some time with me as we coax out that little boy or girl in you who wants to skip, dance, jump and sing. We look at our inner child as not someone who needs fixing, but as someone who’ll fix us.

Then help your own kids with the Playlist Flowdreaming for Children at Flowdreaming.com.

Flowdreaming Podcast 595: Estrangement

You haven’t spoken in a year (or years). You feel so guilty. You feel so mad.

Why do we become estranged from the people we love, and will we ever forgive or accept each other? We play with the energy of estrangement—that dark little family secret— and see how we can open up our love and shift the balance toward acceptance and support. Go deeper with the My Happy Family Playlist at Flowdreaming.com.

8 investments that changed me as a woman

I’m jumping on a trend here before it gets too big. It’s just so good that I can’t pass it up! It’s the “8 Investments That Changed Me as a Woman” post.

The idea is to put down the 8 things you’ve done, bought, or allowed yourself to have that have massively upleveled your life. (And yes, it’s “for women,” but you fellows may resonate to this list too!)

The list is materialistic because it’s about things we acquire. But it’s also a huge lesson in receiving.

As someone who practices Flowdreaming, I’m always thinking about what I want to manifest/make/create/have/be/do next. So this concept fits right in.

Here are my Top Eight.

 

1. Retreats for My Own Personal Joy, Creativity, and Wellness

It took me forever to allow myself to go on spiritual or creative holidays. I had so much resistance to it. For one, my husband would be upset that I didn’t invite him. For another thing, how can I justify spending the cash on myself like that, when I have no idea if there will be any “return on investment” for it?

I used to be so ridiculous about this. Sure, I’d take a regular vacation and not worry  about “ justifying” it. But if I wanted to go off and do art for a week, or meditate for a weekend? Uh uh, that had to become a work expense or I’d find some other way to make it “ok.”

No more. Now I take one to two pure “me” trips each year. I choose things that I want to do or learn. I don’t invite anyone to go with me if I want to just be inside myself for the week. I’m not beholden to making anyone else happy when I gift myself these treasure weeks.

And you know what? These weeks infallibly end up cracking me open like a coconut. The point of these trips is to see what gets opened, exposed, or grown in me. I want to experience something that I don’t already know about myself.

These weeks accelerate my inner journey, which in the end, makes me far richer and more productive in my life. My well rarely goes dry as a result.

Junior high, getting intimate, and Daddy Longlegs…yeah, it’s all here.

It’s 5 a.m. and I’m sitting here writing you. I’m up because the pain in my hips woke me. It’s pain from the chemo drugs.

Funny things happen this early in a suburban house. There’s a newborn daddy longlegs spider running across my keyboard (fresh hatch of the day?).

My cats lay on my desk looking at me, mystified. Why is the human up?

I try to text my friends, but no one texts back. (What’s wrong with them? Don’t they know I’m up?!)

And this morning’s crop of email is not especially interesting. I unsubscribe from much of it.

I flash back to 12 years ago, when I was also typically up by about 4:30 a.m. to work on writing my first book.

Back then I was hugely pregnant with my daughter. I was also tired and aching, and I had to be at my 9 to 5 job by 7 a.m. on-the-dot each morning.

Now here I am about to take that baby from 12 years ago, Lexi, to her first day of junior high three hours from now.

We stayed up in bed last night going through her classes, her schedule, which friends were in her classes, and importantly (but devastatingly), which “hot guys” were not.

And it got me thinking how life is a continuous craving of new experiences.

A pool party and a fire-balled car…my Saturday night

Last night, my husband’s car caught fire and blew up in the street. It was parked in front of our house.
 
Around his car were twenty other parked cars owned by the parents of most the kids in my daughter’s 6th grade class.
 
What the heck happened?

The backstory:

Our daughter Lexi is in Cotillion.
 
In San Diego, at least, Cotillion is a Madmen-style 1950s-1960s last-ditch attempt to teach our kids wedding dances and manners before they head into middle school.
 
The kids suffer through instructions and dances in hot stuffy suits and scratchy dresses and pantyhose at a very classy racetrack ballroom.
 
I offered to host a little swim party after the kids’ first lesson to help break the ice, since few 6th grade boys relish wearing ties and dancing with girls. I asked all the parents to come too, to help us get to know each other.
 
So the kids are having a great time cannon-balling in the pool, my husband is mixing margaritas faster than the parents can gulp them, and the front and back doors to our house are wide open with parents and kids spilling from front-yard to back.
 
At around 10 pm, one dad says, “What’s that?” and points out the front door.
 
My god, that’s a fireball in the street.
 
That’s my husband’s car.