A lot of trees have been falling where I live.
With massive winds and relentless storms here in Northern California, many big, beautiful, ancient, trees have been taken down. It's been awe-inspiring, sad, and quite humbling to see the root systems of these trees when they fall, so complex and strong that they take entire driveways and roads with them.
And contrary to how I set this up, I don't think these trees should have been more deeply rooted or stronger in order to survive these storms - they are exactly how they should be, because nature is endlessly wise.
And yet, it's got me thinking about roots.
The invisible things we do that make the visible parts of us possible.
How what we do to nourish ourselves in the good times is going to be the thing that grounds us through the bad. How healing can feel pointless when it's not measurable or observable, and how easy it is (especially as women) to talk ourselves out of prioritizing our own nourishment.
Time for self-nourishment doesn't always equate to a measurable outcome, but our root systems matter. If we don't attend to our own soil, we risk becoming ungrounded during the chaos of life.
Questions to consider as you weather whatever storms or stillness you might be facing...
How am I nourishing my own roots?
What does support feel like to me?
How can I prioritize the practices and people from whom I feel support?
If you identify as a woman or love one that could use some extra support, I’d like to invite you (and her) to the next virtual women's circle to plant more firmly into 2023:
January 29th 2023
11-12:30pm PST on Zoom
Because sacred connections with truthful people are nourishment.
The time we spend in open-hearted conversation, authentic connection, and in attendance of our own healing is like planting underground roots that stabilize us throughout the inevitable storms.
Speaking something aloud, hearing another's share and remembering that you're not alone, and engaging in the breathwork practice I'll lead us through to integrate all of it is akin to rooting deeply as we plant ourselves into 2023.
There will be sunshine this year, there may be children swinging from our limbs, and there will also be storms.
Let's tend to our soil and plant roots together on January 29th, returning to life more peaceful, awake, and intentional versions of ourselves.
Please feel free to share this with any women you know that might want to come: the friend who is struggling, the one you just miss, or the long distance friend you've been longing to go visit but can't actually make a trip to see yet.
Gather your women friends *or* come for the comfort of anonymity in a supportive group where nobody knows you. It's all welcome, and all of YOU is welcome too.
xo
Melissa
PS: I will be capping attendance to this circle to ensure that those present have the chance to share. If you know you want to come please come sign up now and protect that time in your calendar - I'd love to have you.
ARE YOU ASKING THE QUESTIONS YOU’LL WISH YOU HAD?
The Questions You’ll Wish You Asked journals are designed to build connection and legacy between parents and children. Consider writing down answers for your kids, asking questions of your family members, or sending one of the Questions You’ll Wish You Asked journals to a person you care about today. Find them here.
If you know a motherless mother, I made a few journals for her.
Learn more about them below.
Order yours here and here