A portal of rebirth: a One year reflection

Looking back to one year ago

August has been all about reflecting, resetting, and grounding into the places I have expanded into this summer (you can watch an instagram live I did about this here).

This week I felt deeply emotional multiple days thinking back to a year ago and how much has shifted since then. Late August through early October last year I hit some of my lowest grief moments. The shock of my mom’s death started wearing off more (I have learned to not underestimate shock in the grief & loss process - it lasts much much longer than we realize), we had just moved into our first 100yr old home that we were pouring love and energy into to make it our own, a place where my mom would never visit (physically), and a lot of other details of life were stirring the anxiety pot like never before. It was combination of deep joy, gratitude, pain and grief.

It took all of my energy to move through the day in as grounded of a way as I could without collapsing, which inevitably happened often too.

It wasn’t my last rock bottom grief moment, but it was yet again a point of surrender, or a million points of surrender of control, of my fears that that’s how it’d be forever, surrender of fears that I’d never have energy again or mental clarity or creativity again even though I new there was so much to experience and offer in life still. Surrender of all relationships, plans and hopes and dreams, because I only had capacity to move at an hour-by-hour pace. Surrender to the reactions my body was having to the level of stress hormones that had likely been circulating for so long.

I was still learning how to find the words to even talk to loved ones about what it felt like. I’m so grateful for the people that sat with me on the phone or in person while I spoke, or cried, or just sat in silence on numb days.

There were many more moments, easier and hard lived, before a bigger shift was ready to unfold and a lot more support along the way, but it’s pretty amazing to be here today feeling ALIVE, with a deep desire for life, inspired to share, create, and carry out pieces of the mission I came to offer, grounded into myself in a renewed and calm way, open to grief and also open to life. Surrender is still a daily piece of the puzzle, and I’ve leaned that there is grief in every layer of healing (which likely isn’t concluding anytime soon).

And this home has held us through so much, with so much love, light, coziness and expansiveness all at once. Supporting us with trees in every direction, a lush and breathtaking park just a few blocks away for daily conversations, tears or dance parties with the trees, birds, and flowers. It’s almost like this house’s soul smiled at us and opened its arms for a welcoming embrace, saying “it you love me and all of my quirks, I will abundantly love you and hold you in all of your moments”, and it has.

It has offered space for our Chileans to come for months at a time, enough stability for my nervous system and enough project opportunities for my visionary husband, space to rest, play, read in the hammock, introduce many new plant friends, our first holiday season without Mom, and so much more.

The unraveling is deeply painful, and learning to be with myself in love through it has been one of my biggest challenges to date, AND the magical portal of transformation and rebirth it offers never ceases to amaze and humble me.

Now to look forward to one year from now, knowing I could never even grasp the possibilities of all that may unfold, but I can look forward with love, excitement, openness, surrender, and freedom to trust I will be held and can hold myself and others beautifully through it all.

If you take a moment and a breath, what has this last year been like for you? How have life’s wild unfoldings transformed your being?

The Power of Deep Coaching + walking a path of committed limitless becoming and transformation

This was originally written on July 14th, 2022

It’s been an intense last few days of all of the feels (I see you full moon) - grief, resisting my grief, self doubt and criticism, blah-ness, tears and more tears, fear, irritation… - feeling the overwhelm of it all, releasing each piece and part as I am ready, and then opening to and allowing the energetic shift that is ready to unfold.

This week has been a practice of recognizing new layers of my deep and long-lived survival patterns and being able to finally observe them from a new lens and energy - instead of reacting our of a survival loop, finding more peace in simply holding and being with the reactivity this patterns stir up in my mind and body. I am immensely encouraged by this, as this feels like a ground for healing on this new layer and level.

And as I always do, I have landed in a place of clarity and open heartedness once again. A place from which I can my make clear, aligned decisions and offer myself grace, permission, and immense love and compassion once again.

From achievement orientation to process orientation

You see, walking a path of committed limitless becoming and transformation, and meeting and guiding others on their version of that path, does not release anyone from the human experience and the healing available in fully embracing it. Quite the opposite actually. Personally, in many ways I feel it intensifies the journey, reconfirming over and over again that I am willing to walk through my darkest valleys, no matter how short or long, to reconnect with my light. That I am willing to stand in the fire, lay down and surrender, open and receive, over and over again. Each time on a new layer, a new level. 

Part of the reason I love what I do is that is challenges the status quo on growth, personal development and coaching as the world knows it currently. 

We are conditioned to focus purely on the achievements, measuring ourselves and others against what is and isn’t accomplished, but when that is all we focus on, we are missing so much of the magic of life! The truth is that there is no “there”, no “arrival” on this path. We may reach new levels and states, but there is no end to all we can grow into and become.

The theme of moving from "doing-ness" to "being-ness" is something I explore a lot with my clients, and as that transition happens, we naturally begin to move from what I like to call moving from "achievement orientation to process orientation".

When we open and shift into process orientation, we can take in and allow all of the gifts that bloom along that path, instead of being so tunnel vision focused on the outcome. In my experience, it truly opens us to life fully and there is magic and beauty even in the really challenging and trying times.

The Energetic Shift

As I have worked with this transition in my own life in the past 4 years, one of the most powerful shifts I have observed is that the way I interact with myself and life is SO DIFFERENT than it used to be, and because of this, I love being me. Even though there are of course hard days, I love who I am today. I love this version of me, this “open and here for it all” Ellie.

I see that in my clients everyday as well. Even when nothing is “figured out yet”, resolved, or clear - even when the relationship with someone is difficult or strained, even when uncertainty or grief hits harder than ever before, even when pain arises once again - the shift in being that Deep coaching and transformational work facilitates and supports truly opens us to a powerful relationship with all parts of ourselves, life, others, and beyond that is filled with possibility, with freedom, with energy, and with LOVE.

It facilitates an energetic shift that changes everything. How we feel with ourselves. How our inner life feels. How our body feels.  How our outer life feels. How our relationship to God feels, as well as our own humanness and divinity. Nothing goes untouched. 

One of my mentors of the last few years, Pilar Lesko, a woman the feels like a deeply connected soul friend, recently wrote in one of her beautiful newsletters, “Life doesn’t become ‘perfect’, absolved of difficulty, contrast, tension, mistakes, and pain. You do not get everything you think you want. But rather, you become more available to interact with life, as it is - and through that, meet the wise, sacred and meaning-filled energy that permeates each moment. You receive the lessons, transformation, and healing that’s available and reality consistently re-orients to that devotion. You naturally generate more authenticity, kindness, and generosity. You experience more peace, joy, play, flow, and clarity. Everything seems more beautiful.”

Those words ring so true and depict this never-ending experience of becoming and transformation so well. 

I often say to one of my friends, “As we expand into one part of ourselves, all parts of us expand - even when we can’t see it all yet.” Despite what we must walk through, the fullness and the beauty only multiplies if we are willing to make room for it.

Being with Yourself (+ Free Meditation)

A few weeks ago, shortly after revealing Ellie•Flow, I found myself going through all of the meditations I have created over the last few years on my computer.  There are A LOT of them, so I pressed play on each one, listening to the tone of my voice and the connection of heart and mind carried through in every practice. 

I found some I had forgotten about and still really love - meditations that still ‘hold up’ – a loving and powerful energetic invitation is felt from the moment I press play.  Others I enjoyed finding and listening to again because they felt a little less energetically full, which allowed me to, yet again, reflect on how much I have deepened, evolved, and grown in my connection, gifts, and leadership over the past few years.

Within seconds of pressing play on each meditation, I could feel the energy I had created it from. Sifting through each recording reminded me of every stage of the few years. I remembered weeks where I made things happen through ‘push and force’ energy and sheer determination to not give up. I remembered weeks where my heart had been peeled (or cracked) open on yet another layer. I remembered that through that pain, I had opened, connected with myself and beyond, and felt feelings deeper than I had ever allowed myself to feel. I remembered how from that soft and vulnerable inner place something beautiful was always born, no matter how tiny it felt in the moment.  In the tone and frequency of my voice and words, I remembered it all.

Maybe about 10 meditations in to my memory lane listening exhibition , I came across a 6 minute audio titled “Being with Yourself”.  The title alone surprised me, as the practice of being with myself is so integrated into who I am today that I don't really need to consciously think those words anymore.  But it wasn’t always this way, and simply seeing this title brought the memories of all of the years I didn't know how to be with myself; all of the years I disconnected, distracted, denied what felt true within me, rushed to the forefront of my mind. This title brought back the hundreds of times that the simple practice of reconnecting with myself - layer after layer - felt hard and heavy with resistance.

Yet with intention, desire, and deep deep KNOWING that there was more to live, I returned.

Layer by layer, I practiced inviting in breath, inviting in sacred love and attention to each part of my being. I practiced inviting in willingness, to come back to feeling and wholeness when I felt myself hardening from fear, anger, grief, pain, or uncertainty.

From the moment I found the practice on my computer, before I even pressed play, I felt excited to share it with you. What a gift it would have been to past me to have a 6-minute practice I could turn to every day, no matter how or where I found myself. Something so minimal, just to help get the ball rolling in the direction of reconnection when everything felt hard and empty.

A simple and accessible offering and invitation to re-arrive in your body, in your Self - to come home, over-and-over again. 

I of course needed to listen to it again before sharing. So, I pressed play and heard this stream of consciousness intro: 

"The theme of this week’s meditation is ‘Being with Yourself’. Often when we are in times of stress, chaos, or feeling unsafe or having lots of uncertainty, we look for things outside of ourselves to sooth and calm ourself, instead of simply being present with what’s going on with in us, with our feelings , and with what’s coming up. So making a small space for yourself everyday to literally sit in silence, in love with yourself, to hear yourself, and to be willing to allow what desires to surface, to surface so you can be relieved of it, is a powerful daily practice. And this will be a light way to do this for 5 minutes at a time, and lead you into it. Know you are not alone, I am holding space with you, I am here with you breathing along side you, and you do not need to journey through any of what you are walking through alone."

There is a lot coursing in us and around us right now, and I believe that taking moments to be with yourself, with the fullness of all you are and feel, has never been so important.

The art of being with ourselves isn't just for hard moments - it is powerful and important to fully be with all of our joy, delight, fun, play, and beyond too - but learning to open to the hard moments and pain is where the depth of my transformative walk began, and I know that may be true for others as well.

If this practice calls to you, if a guided 6-minute practice would feel like a supportive gift, then I invite you to press play and begin now:

(Please Note: this practice intentionally does not have any music to help guide you into a place of stillness and presence with the totally of your being)

Soon I will have multiple longer meditations and recorded practices (options with and without background music) up for sale on my website, to be purchased individually or as a bundle.  Keep your eyes peeled if that is your sort of thing!

I will leave you with this: 

I like to imagine a planet where everyone simply had or created 6-minutes of space to be with themselves before heading out into the world.  I like to imagine how different things would be if we knew how to hold ourselves, to let ourselves FEEL and connect before we act. If we individually and collectively knew how to feel the pulse of our own energy moving through our bodies and beings - if we felt clarity on what isn't really ours and how to release it with love to reconnect with the truth of who we are.

I am holding a vision for that world, for all the possibilities alive there, for all of us. May it begin now with 6 loving minutes of opening today.

If you are ready to dive deeper, I would love to welcome you into a coaching session. Learn more and book here.

I don’t simply want to be alive, I want to LIVE.

I have been led on a sacred path of opening to the daily unfolding of life, of connecting to the essence of life and engaging with it a little bit more fully each day, for many years now.

My pain led me to the water of living. More specifically, my pain carried me to a point of  internal collapse in 2018 where I found myself saying “I can’t live like this anymore”, over and over again. 

Despite my deepest fears, in order to consciously choose life, I had no other option but to open to my pain – to open my arms to it, and embrace it fully for the first time ever. I could no longer run from it, block it, push it down. If I wanted to live fully, which I did (even though I didn’t really know what that meant or felt like), I no longer had room in my being to ignore it. 

I turned toward my pain with fear at first, afraid of what it would do to me. But the irony is that when I actually found the right support, and allowed myself to look at it and hold it with love, I began to see it with beauty and tenderness that not only allowed healing, it also began to transform my way of life.

I kept this journey private on many levels for many years, marveling at the possibilities of reaching new states of living as I encountered or approached them time and time again. Over time, I’m sure the magic of this process started to bubble up and spill out out of my Ellie fountain. Others around me observed and felt shifts they couldn’t pinpoint, and I couldn’t quite find the words to share fully yet. 

leaning into the shifts in being

Even when the days and weeks felt dense, each month offered new teachings. The deeper and deeper I dove inward, following the calling of the Spring of Life, the deeper I could breathe.

I felt clear and open, connected to an energy inside that I learned I could tap into any moment, knowing my heart and God within was all right there. The feeling was was indescribable – an undeniable energy of being and becoming led me forward with hope, to an empowered passion to guide others to the possibilities of living, even though I still had so much to walk on my own (and perhaps always will).

I thought, “Oh the possibilities for the world if everyone had space to feel their version of this inside of them.”

It was beyond wholeness; it was living wholeness.

Perhaps it was meant to be a private journey until now, until I could process, understand, and hold it on new levels. Until I could truly embody and dance with the powerful platter of sweetness, rawness, pain, joy, peace, divinity and humanness all combined into each moment. 

I am still being initiated into new layers and levels of living everyday, and even though I need moments of pause to play and rejuvenate along the way, I hope it never ends. 

I’ve dreamed for years of sharing this process. This week I found a special reminder I had written on a sticky note at a business retreat in 2018. While doing a meditation around connecting with our businesses and selves, I tapped into a vision of what my spirit felt like and desired for the first time; I saw myself dancing down an empty street and as I passed the houses, people started flooding out, joining me and welcoming more and more people to join us as we grooved forward together.

Afterwards I wrote: “Spirit: A leader, dancing through the street, having fun, inviting + encouraging others. Leading the way.”

I was years from connecting with Ellie Flow, still very much at in the infancy of my own process, just arriving to the point of collapse I referenced above. And yet the energy that I aim for Ellie Flow to hold was already alive inside of me: an inviting place for encouragement, expression of the soul, and dancing through life together.

There is so much alive inside of you, I promise. Maybe it’s ready to pour out now, or maybe your soul is ready to leave you a clue for later - for the perfect future moment when you will be fully ready for it.

If you feel called, book your first session and let’s tap in, explore, and dance forward together.

The internal grief clock (a poem for compassionate witnessing)

I wrote this poem in the summer of 2021, a raw 5ish months after my mother’s passing (Feb 19th). This expression explores and puts words to the quiet hardening that often happens as any anniversaries or important dates approach when living with grief and loss.

In my experience, grief can can creep up or come on suddenly, and now almost a year later the way it makes itself present in different than when I wrote this, but my body remains powerfully synched with my internal grief clock.

I have learned, and am still learning every day, to treat my internal grief clock with deep respect, honoring, and sacredness, even when my mind tendency is to want to bypass this process and overcome it.

For me, Grief is a never-ending initiation into softening and surrendering yet again, into opening and listening yet again, into feeling with my whole heart and body, even though protective patterns in of my mind want to keep me from the potential pain.

My hope in sharing this poem and experience is to extend compassionate witnessing and holding to others experiencing deep grief of any kind, as well as space and love to invite the sacredness back in to your process.

Today I grant you an invitation to tap in and listen to your inner grief clock, and remember, there is nothing wrong with you no matter how you feel your grief today.

The Internal Grief Clock

Like clockwork

Even when my brain doesn’t realize it

My body can feel it.

The heaviness comes

The helplessness

The numb, dull, stay-in-bed depression.

This again?! Grief is this you?

I can’t even feel the answer.

Everything feels so dark

I go searching for every other reason I could feel like this, yet again

Disconnected

Hopeless

Stuck

Dead inside.

I see the date on my phone - the 16th, not the 19th

It mustn’t be grief this time, I think

It must be me.

No matter what I do

Here I am again.

The next day passes, and then the next

Glimpses of light and lightness

Moments of feeling alive again, but mostly

I am constantly weighing how to move through the day, what I can muster the energy for.

Until I can’t fight it anymore, and I roll over and stay in bed

Surrendering to the nothingness

To the missing motivation

To the missing desire.

Then I see that date again

The 19th.

I ask again, could this be grief?

At first I shake my head, but then

The tears begin to fall

My voice returns, and I can

Speak my thoughts and fears.

I miss my mom

I talk to her

I call my sister, text my dad

I tell my husband it’s been 5 months.

I ask him if it feels longer or shorter to him and he replies

“Some days it feels closer, and some days it feels further away.”

And he is exactly right.

On the 19th she feels so close, yet so far away all at once.

On the 19th’s and the days leading up

My body remembers first, even when my head can’t connect the dots

And there is nothing to do or change, even when it doesn’t make sense.

Then the 20th comes, and I feel

Half human again

Half alive again

Able to breathe again

Hungry again

Awake again

Able to move again.

And everything still hurts

But it all somehow looks brighter too.

The juicy process of Transformation (brought to you by my daily walk through the park)

For the past 6 weeks, I have been contemplating the threshold of winter and spring on my daily walks through the park near our house. There have been days sprinkled with sunlight, days when I can feel spring rising up so powerfully inside and out, and there have been days blanketed with snow or gloom. While the snow holds its own beauty, at this time of year it continuously draws me to the frozenness that hasn’t fully thawed yet - a reminder that winter is still present even though I hear the hunger for spring renewal rumbling deep within.

I have watched the dead of winter slowly transition into spring, starting at the ground level. Each day there is a touch of new green, or a new flower or bud sprouting at the base of the Earth. But the moment I raise my eyes again, everything still looks dead - appearing to still be fully devoted to hibernation and restoration, where energy is still being gathered for the coming season.

On every walk I feel the unpredictable pace, wisdom, and shifting of my inner seasons reflected back to me. The sprinkles of green on the forest floor, amidst bare trunks and branches, remind me of the transitional phases between different states of being or seasons of life - the moments when the anticipated signs of the future are peeking through, yet we continue to live a known/old reality. I am reminded that only when we make space for and cultivate trust in the whole, full process of growth, can holding what is still dying or dead while simultaneously embracing the hope for life that is to come feel like a joyful, awe-inspired daily adventure.

the threshold of the inner seasons

Exploring and embracing our current inner seasons, and releasing any conditioned expectations to be somewhere we are not, is an extremely liberating and poetic journey I lead my clients through and have walked through many times. On my personal path, the past few years have included drawn out periods of inner fall’s shedding, followed by prolonged periods of cocooning and restoring through long inner winter(s). For a few years, this inward flow felt much more familiar than the bouncy, outer energy of spring or summer.

However this year I have experienced inner spring fiercely bubbling - finally feeling the steady energy I craved for months, potentially years. Much has been invisibly building and I can finally feel the sprouts about to break through the surface.

And yet, many of those sprouts have still not made themselves outwardly visible, but my daily walks through the park have once again reminded me of the beauty, worthiness, and power of holding the pieces of our inner terrain that still feel barren or frozen with honor, awe, gratitude, and even delight. Even if spring is all I want to focus on, the lingering winter reminds me the there is still more sacred tending to hold space for - and to trust that doing so will only cultivate the energy of my inner spring even more.

I am reminded that I mustn’t fear the daily reminders of winter, and that transformation doesn’t blossom from one day to the next; the threshold of winter and spring is like my walks - a treasure hunt for new beauty, new life, colors and plants I haven’t seen before.

If I allow it, it brings awe, reminding me to slow down, to take in every moment of sacred presence that I can. To fully BE with the process of shedding (fall), entering a hibernation or void space (winter), and from the darkness witnessing the light and life that starts to break through when it is time (spring), and the ferociously flourish (summer).

The process is potent and sacred. The seasons are working together, in natural progression, and I can choose to respect, honor, and be in flow with their rhythm, with my rhythm. And when I am, I will be carried into my next season in perfect timing, with all of the tools and wisdom I need.

The juicy process of Transformation

Over the years I have fallen deeply in love with the process of transformation, which perfectly mirrors this threshold and progression of the seasons reflected in the park: the beauty and magic of allowing one’s Self the space to unravel and shed what isn’t truly theirs to be or hold, creating and allowing a held emptiness and willingness to just BE, trusting that in perfect time, new energy, vibrancy and states of being will take root and sprout.

We often want to jump from the shedding to the budding, but if we can slow down enough to sit in the emptiness space that is created between each season, we being to hear and feel our soul and essence humming, expanding, playing, coming forth more palpably. In this open field, not yet identified understood perhaps, our Divinity vibrates, and there is space for a relationship with our deeper, vaster, loving being(ness) to take root. We can listen and receive, and being to see and feel what energetically is moving its way into being.

This process happens on a micro level in single coaching sessions, and on a macro level in longer containers. No matter how it unfolds, holding space for what wants to emerge with and for my clients, and in my own life, is one of the greatest gifts of my work and life. It is JUICY AS ALL GET OUT!

It is a journey filled with tears and laughter, often in the same session or moment, and while it isn’t magic, it feel magical, liberating, grounding and empowering all at once, reminding us of who we are, the possibility of our being, and the intersection of what it is to embody our Divine-Humanness.

If this resonated with you and feel called to more, you can explore my coaching offerings here.

2021: a year of Loss, deep grief, & reckoning (Part 1)

Introductory note: In mid-January 2022, as I was starting to create this website and open space for my work to be shared again, I felt the need and calling to sit down and write my 2021 story. I had no choice but to journey into the deep throws and upheaval of loss and grief in 2021, a process that, for me at the time, demanded pulling back from much of life as I had known it. As I prepared to step forward and share again, something felt missing – so much had changed within me. I had contracted on all levels and then exponentially expanded and taken new form over and over again, and I continue to; it felt weird and disconnecting to share EllieFlow without also sharing the pain and process that opened me to this creation, and the many creations that are to come.

So I sat down to build you a bridge through my words, a bridge that would carry you from who I was when you perhaps last knew me as the founder of Deeply Nourished for Life, to who I am now. As I began to write, the following poured out:

I am opening to 2022 after a year I will never forget. 

I welcomed 2021 with a panic attack on New Year’s Eve. I had never had a panic attack before, but after watching a movie at home with my husband and then heading to bed before midnight, my body began to tremble and my breath shortened. I was brushing my teeth when a cold-to-the-bone feeling washed over me. 

I told my husband I was feeling anxious and he asked, “What changed in the last 10 minutes? We were just laughing at the movie and you were ok.” I felt irritated by the question, partly because it was true – I had been contently watching the movie moments ago, so what had happened? I distracted perhaps, or just…disconnected from myself?

I crawled into bed and the moment I tried to lay down it got worse, feeling frigid and shaking uncontrollably no matter how hard I tried to hold still and get warm. 

Ironically I was simultaneously running the most aligned program I had ever run before, sharing daily videos, meditations, writing prompts and teachings with 14 amazing humans on how to connect with their own authentic energy and selves as we walked into 2021.

During the day, as I prepared, guided, and taught each day through the program, I felt so alive and excited to open to what wanted to be birthed. My passion for exploring the depths of our beingness and holding space to feel into all of it freely poured out of me. And yet here I was that night, sitting on the edge of my bed on New Years Eve at 11pm, unable to even lie down. 

As I clenched my husbands hand, I tapped into one of my favorite teachings of the program, a teaching on creating and understanding safety within ourselves to create a basis for healing and connection. As I tapped in, I knew on a deep level that I was physically safe and spiritually safe, despite my body’s intense physical response. However, on an emotional level a deep fear had overcome me and I didn’t even know where it stemmed from. 

At the time, I chalked it up to fear that I had given my family COVID over Christmas, even though no one was feeling ill and I hadn’t been sick. Now I look back and I believe that my panic was brought on by a soul knowing that my mind at the time couldn’t comprehend. On some level I knew that all was not well as an enormous wave of fear and anticipatory grief crashed through my body. 

In my depths, so much was stirring…

What was happening? What would happen? Was Mom going to be ok? Would we make it to our month-long California getaway in a few weeks like we had planned?

Would I ever find the courage to tell her some of the things that were on my heart, some of the ways I felt pain and desire for more in our relationship?

Would I get to see her have fun and laugh many more times like I dreamed? Would she still be spunky and vibrant in daily life, as I believed she was at her core? Would I get to be her silly daughter again, or convince her to dance with me like I dreamed? Would we ever get to be free together, totally us and totally free of the weight of the cancer again?

As the shaking progressed, I miraculously found a homeopathic remedy (categorized as a remedy for fear of death and dying even though in that moment I believe I was most afraid of my mom’s death, not my own) to help move me out of my panic state that night.  I fell asleep and January began. I continued with my program, but once it ended I felt restless in my being.

I had all of these dreams for my business and yet everything felt so off inside. I had spent years in exploration of who I really was and what I was called here to do, and I KNEW (and that knowing is still there) that there was so much that wanted (and wants) to be shared through me. 

I often became irritated with myself, feeling myself holding back for reasons I couldn’t comprehend. Some days I was able to tap into the river of life and Spirit flowing through me, other days I was unable to move. I felt stuck in a fog of lethargy and depression.

And then more scary little moments started to unfold, as if they had popped out of my worst nightmares. Notes from my mom’s best friend saying how hard it was that my mom didn’t feel well enough to go to Chemo that week. Texts from my sister saying, “Are you planning on coming to Mom and Dad’s anytime soon? I think you should plan to come next week.”

Just like there had been at Christmas time last year, there would be hours where my mom was alive and attentive. She baked cakes from new recipes that intrigued her to take people with new babies or friends that had birthdays. She did Qi-Gong for hours a day, and went for walks in the cold Minnesota winters. And we’d talk on the phone – I can still hear her attentive “hmm mm”s, and “oh yea”s on the other end as I updated her about things in Milwaukee. Or she’d call to ask me to order her some more supplements or to discuss nutrition or fertility resources for one of her homeopathic clients. 

But there were also many moments everyday when she was in pain, when nothing tasted good and it became hard for her to eat and sustain her weight. There were weeks when her chemo side effects caused so much water retention in her belly and legs that finding clothes and shoes that were comfortable was nearly impossible. 

Around January 20th, after a very scary night of pain, my dad took my mom to the hospital where she stayed for a week due to an infection in her abdominal fluid. My sister had been texting me and asking me to pray, and updating me as they called her doctors and made the decision.

Taking her to the hospital terrified us all, especially after 9-months of a world-wide pandemic. But as they treated the infection and as the pain subsided we found hope. If you knew my mom, you know she was a fighter that found purpose and energy for life over and over again, even in the toughest mental and physical times of cancer treatment and life.  My Dad’s voice rings in my ears as I write: “We think if she can just get home to rest, and we can get a lot of good food in her, she can recover from this.”

She returned home, and we were all relieved.  Yet the daunting uncertainty of her recovery loomed over us. We postponed our trip to California, and my sister and I started to rotate being at my parents’ house to support to be with our mom, and support Dad in the care taking.

There were days when she stomached her meds and vitamins and ate full bowls of soup, for which we cheered and celebrated. There were also many days where we all felt hopeless and helpless trying to keep her comfortable, vibrant, and healing. 

She never stopped chiming in with her intelligent thoughts and mental attentiveness. In early February I remember her saying, “Your Dad is hovering again. I hate when he does that!” I am chuckling now remembering her exact position and annoyed expression as she stated this to me. But the truth was it was so hard not to hover – it came from a deep place of love and concern.

The first week I was with her, after she made it clear she hated the hovering, I perched over a table a few feet away from her recliner while I dove into the hardest puzzle we had ever attempted. The puzzle had been sitting on that table since Christmas when we deemed it impossible, but this time I was determined to make her proud and give her something she loved to focus on.

It was hard to know what to say in many moments, really just wanting to be present and connected without wasting the energy she needed to heal, so I’d ask if I should put on music. She would surprisingly say OK. I will never forget those nights, looking over my left shoulder at her as she half slept while I hummed and sang along to my favorite Beautiful Chorus albums simultaneously in search of the next perfect puzzle piece. 

The intimacy and sacredness of her last few weeks of life feel unmatchable. A beingness, a togetherness, a lovingness seemed powerfully present in our family as we journeyed through the hardest days of our lives.

A few weeks in we sat on the couch together. Knowing that she wasn’t getting better she said “I’m so sorry sweetie”. And I replied, “I’m so sorry too, Mom.” Then between sobs, “But when I look at you or think of you, all I feel is love. So much love.” 

Our hands were clasped together and I rested my head against hers. After a few minutes of sweet silence I felt her drifting off, so I asked if she had fallen asleep. She didn’t respond right away, and when she did it came from some connected and peaceful place, “I’m just soaking in the love.” 

So there we sat, soaking each other in. I left a few hours later, and  sobbed the whole 3.5 hour drive home. 

The next day I recalled the moment while speaking with her older sister, my Aunt Mary, and she reflected back to me something like, “That is probably how she has felt for 32 years, just soaking in the love since the day you were born.”

Many of the other most impactful moments from her last weeks of life still feel too sacred and intimate to describe fully in words, like when I gave her a bath that turned into a deeply healing moment of grace and love for us both 6 days before she died.

Or when my sister and I braved a traumatic night trying to keep her comfortable with the help of the hair dryer (she liked feeling the hot air blown on her weak legs) and alternating doses of Morphine and Lorazepam.  That night was also the last night we heard her laugh and say, “Love you, El. Love you, Syl” despite the state of delusion she was in. It was the hardest night of my life to date.

Maybe someday I’ll be able to share them more in writing, but for now words just can’t communicate the depth of pain, love, fear, peace, connection, rage and despair that were all bundled into one moment.

She died on Friday morning, February 19th, 2021 around 9:10am, surrounded by my Dad, my sister and myself. We were only 50 days into 2021 and our world had been turned upside down. 

In ways there were moments of weird relief that followed, and feelings of aliveness I struggled to connect with again months later. Moments where my sensitivity and creativity dial was turned way up and I’d write beautiful poems or channel new business plans.

I even somehow found the energy to do a miraculous packing job before her funeral, fitting enough clothes for her funeral, Shiva, and 3 weeks in California into a carry-on. Two weeks after she died my Dad and I drove from Minnesota to California with his dog to finish out whatever we could of our Airbnb reservation from the family trip we had planned with Mom. We got to the Pacific in 2.5 days and I’m still not sure how we did it.

My sister and husband met us there, and that trip was such a blessing (I now highly recommend a bereavement trip after someone passes at home, if that is a possibility financially and otherwise). In that Oxnard, California Airbnb I could feel my mom everywhere - it felt so right and refreshing to be there, yet heartbreaking she didn’t join us physically. It was also where I collapsed for the first time a few days into the trip, no longer being able to hold it all together.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but it wasn’t until I returned home in late March that the shock began to wear off, and the darkness of grief started to set in.

As I slowed down and tried to return to work and other day-to-day responsibilities, I started to feel like I was living in a dream (some days felt more like a fog).

What had just happened? Who was I now? How was I supposed to pick up life and keep moving after watching my beloved mother wither away as she transitioned out of this world? What was even the point of everything I had witnessed and lived in the past two months if I was just supposed to pick up where I had left off?

It felt like a cruel joke. 

Pieces of me felt like they had died with my Mom. In other ways I felt like I was coming to life more than ever before. Yet it all felt heartbreaking.

Part 2 will be posted soon.