The Hefty Price of Good Health

Last Thursday I had a procedure to test the lining of my uterus for any signs of cancer. This one procedure is going to cost me $2,700 out of my pocket. And that is with decent insurance. An insurance I already pay $329.00 for every month.

It’s overwhelming and paralyzing at times. Did you know that medical bills are the number one reason people file personal bankruptcy? I’ll say that again. Medical Bills are the number one reason people file bankruptcy.

I’m not telling you this because I want something. I’m not telling you this because I expect anything.  And I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel sorry for me. I’m telling you this because this is a very big reality for many people.  I am one of so many who has to figure out how they are going to scrape up the money to pay for something that just may save their life.

As much as I don’t want to put a price on my life I often find myself wondering where is the line I have to draw. How much can I really afford when I have to do these tests and procedures every single year all while still trying to have some kind of life. What's the give and take? Do I sacrifice living a life to save all my money to pay for these tests and procedures? I feel like I'm already pretty damn thrifty and frugal as it is. And at the end of the day, if this does come back with a vengeance don't I want to look back at my life and know that I lived too? 

These procedures and tests aren’t something I have the luxury of missing. Believe me, I tried talking myself out of this one after I found out how much it was going to cost me but I just couldn’t because...what if this is the one. What if this is the one where they find my monster? What if this is the one, because caught early, saves my life?

Last week at my pre-op appointment with my oncologist he reminded me that this is still serious. He told me that two other people he treated with the same rare diagnosis, their monsters did eventually show up and believe me when I say this, the kind of cancer that eventually appeared would make just about anyone cringe.

And the truth is, if I can catch things early, then I can save myself from a whole lot of pain and suffering in the long run but at the same time, I’m doing this all by myself and I only make so much money and I can only afford to pay so much. As my mom always says, you can draw blood from a turnip.  

And although I’m more than certain I’ll be just fine, it’s all just really fucked up sometimes. And as positive as I try to be about all of it, sometimes I sit in the bathtub and cry because I feel so alone with having to figure out all the details involved from procedures to payments.

And this is where I trip up. This is where a little bit of the pity party starts to creep in because I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.This is where I start to feel guilty for living my life and not saving every single penny for a rainy day. This is when the anxiety and overwhelm catch my breath and I crawl in bed and pray for something, anything to take the fear away. 

But really this rant stems from the reading of another person committing suicide and me wondering if they had access to proper healthcare, to the proper dialog of mental illness, to proper care from people who...care. If so, could this have been prevented? Would they still be here? How much are we missing that could be prevented from mental health to physical health if we just had better care in general? If WE just cared more?

And I get it. If you’ve never been through something you just don’t think about it. I totally get it. But you guys, something has to change and in all honesty, we are the ones who have to demand the changes.

Something is really wrong when those of us that need these procedures to potentially save our lives are considering canceling them because we are wondering how we will pay for them.

Something is really wrong when people are losing everything because they can’t afford to pay for rising cost of healthcare.

And something is really wrong when someone is struggling to find hope and meaning in life and think killing themselves is the only answer when we should have more discussions and solutions for them. We need to have more dialog around the fact that there is nothing to be ashamed of if you struggle and suffer from mental health issues and you can't just affirm it away or paint some positive over it. We should be creating a safer world for people to share openly instead of feeling like they have to put on a fake smile to make everyone else more comfortable. 

And for fuck sake, there is something incredibly wrong when we are more concerned about our right to bear arms over creating a system that truly works and where everyone has affordable, I mean truly affordable access to all forms of health care.

Every day people are having to make choices about their health and well-being that will affect their lives in significant and potentially deadly ways based solely on whether or not they can pay for it. Yet, our government doesn’t even blink an eye at shoveling an obscene amount of money towards, in my opinion, unnecessary military expenses or the potential funding for a frigging wall along the Mexico border. And now our president is threatening to shut down the federal government in September if Congress does not provide more funding to build said wall? Mr. President, I beg your pardon, but I do believe we have more pressing issues you narcissistic weasel.

Like people dying because they can’t afford to truly take care of themselves. People in so much frigging pain but can't do anything about it because they don't know where they will come up with the money to pay for it. So forgive me if I don't give a shit about your damn wall.

I am in a lot of chronic pain down my left side of my body and I just cancelled my physical therapy appointment for this week because I don’t know how I’ll continually pay my $70 copay plus whatever else they charge me every time I go to these appointments on top of the $2,700 medical bill I’m about to get. This doesn’t even cover all the other appointments and screenings that I have throughout the year. Again, I tell you this to paint a reality that a lot of people have to deal with. It's no wonder depression and anxiety and massive overwhelm are so prevalent. 

This is the part of cancer and illness and disease no one really wants to talk about.

We like to just wear our colored ribbons and throw a few bucks at The American Cancer Society but it’s not truly getting to the issue. WE need to care more about our fellow human beings and what they are going through even when our own shit seems like too much to bear. 

And yes, I know that everyone has their stuff. I truly get that. Life can be really expensive. Life can be really hard. But there has to be something more that can be done when it comes to people’s lives being at stake if they miss or can’t afford the care they need.

And maybe I'm missing something? Maybe these things do exist? In that case, we need to make them more available and known to everyone. Not something you have to ask for. 

I know there is no easy solution here but in order for us to even come up with one, we have to really start to look at the problem. And not just when you are faced with something and it becomes a part of your own reality. We have to look at it from less of an ‘I’ perspective and more of a “We” perspective.  We need to take care of each other people. We need to care more than just wearing a pink ribbon or throwing a few bucks at an organization and going about our day.

We have to, as a collective whole, stand up and say WE deserve better treatment and not just "I deserve better treatment." We are all born the same. No person should be treated better because of what’s in their bank account.

So I'm here to say that if you are going through something and don't know how you are going to get through it or pay for it, write to me. Let me share this with you and possibly our two minds together can create a solution. Becuase the last thing you need when going through all of this is to feel alone on top of it. 

I'm here. 

Ah, Cancer...it's been awhile.

"I do not understand the mystery of grace -- only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us." -- Anne Lamott

Well, I'm pretty sure the title of this post says it all but just to be clear...

On Friday, March 17th, I was diagnosed with metastatic cancer with an unknown primary source. 

For those of you who are a little uncertain what metastatic cancer means, it is cancer that has spread from a primary location to another location in your body. 

Yeah, it's still a little hard for me to wrap my head around too. 

However, if I'm honest, it really wasn't that shocking given the golf ball size swollen lymph node in my groin. Hearing the words come out of my doctors mouth was still, needless to say, disheartening. 

For me, the last six weeks have been filled with doctor appointments, antibiotics, ultrasounds, CT scans, a colonoscopy and upper endoscopy, biopsies and waiting.

A lot of waiting.  

And you probably want to know the story, where I'm at and how I'm moving forward with this very strange and unfamiliar diagnoses. 

I've been debating on whether or not to share and how much to share because there is so much unknown still. Part of me wants to keep this tightly wrapped in my protective bubble of a handful of family and friends because it makes me feel safe. Ultimately, I think there is great power in vulnerability. I think there is a power so mighty and fierce in the collective whole, and that in some strange way, that by sharing, something great will come from this. 

In some strange way, from the moment I was diagnoses, I've felt this, in an almost unexplainable way, was a gift that will unfold with time. And part of my purpose in this life is to share, with the hopes that someone reads something that may help them. 

So here is the story, where I am at with all of it and what I am currently doing about it. 

THAT LYMPH NODE IS HUGE!

About six months ago I went to the doctor for a swollen lymph node in my left groin. It was big enough to be concerning and it was painful and also coincided with another infection but my doctor didn't seem too concerned. Even when in my gut I wanted to press for more tests, I ignored it and kicking and screaming, got on the antibiotics she prescribed and the infection and lymph node went away with a seven day dose. Two weeks later, I was climbing Mt. Whitney and my swollen lymph node was a thing of the past. I didn't really think much of it other then my initial gut feeling of, "Something feels off here."

Then at the end of January I developed another infection and the lymph node became swollen once again and started to become extremely painful. I decided to go back to my doctor and see what she thought. However, this time I went back to my OBGYN instead as I had a better relationship with her and I knew she would be fully on board to do anything to get to the bottom of this. 

 We decided to put me on stronger dose of antibiotics for 14 days because there was a chance that if this was again an infection, it could be contained in the lymph node. So, again kicking and screaming, I started this gnarly dose of antibiotics but when nothing changed, we both became concerned and decided that we needed to explore this further. 

The following week I went in to have an ultrasound which showed that there was definitely an abnormal growth. Duh. I'm no medical professional but the golf ball size lymph node in my groin was a pretty good indication that something was abnormal. 

Then came the biopsy; which, let me just say, I've been poked and prodded so many times in my life and I usually barely blink and eye, but this one got me good. More so emotionally then anything.

And then it was back to waiting. Lots of waiting. Which is always the worst. 

Then on Friday, after an emotional week of doctor calls and waiting, I got the call from my doctor with the final pathology report:  Metastatic Cancer. I had cancer, it had spread to the lymph node and we have no idea where it started in my body. 

hey, what's up your um....?

Serendipitously, I had already had my annual colonoscopy schedule for March 21st and my mom was flying in March 20th to take me to my appointment and spend a little quality time with me. My colonoscopy is a part of my yearly screening for colon cancer, which I had when I was twenty-four. 

Part of me thought this was going to be it. I was almost sure of it. But after my upper and lower scope showed no signs of stomach or colorectal cancer, I was rather shocked (and relieved). We could cross those off the list. Can you see the excitement in my eyes right after my procedure. ;)

Then on Thursday, March 23rd I got a CT scan with a barium contrast to indicate if the primary cancer was anywhere from my lungs down to my reproductive organs. Other then the lymph node in my groin, the scans revealed nothing. No masses or tumors here either. 

This super 'delicious' stuff is what you take before a CT scan. I kept saying it was my "banana milkshake" to my mom while singing, "my milkshake brings all the boys to the ground..." as I chugged the chalky paste down. 

So now what? 

An interesting thing happens when you are diagnosed with cancer. You want answers and you want them RIGHT NOW. You want to know exactly what you need to do right this very instant to make this thing go away. 

Time stands still yet everything else is moving so damn fast around you. 

Its like in the movies where the main character is standing in a busy intersection and everything is racing around them at lightening speed and you are just standing there staring. How can life really be going on around you when YOU just found out you have cancer? 

The big "C" word consumes your every waking moment. If you are extremely proactive like myself, you are researching any and everything you can. From possible forms of cancer that metastasizes to this specific lymph node, to holistic and natural treatments and protocols I can start incorporating right now to get the body ready for whatever may come, cancer is on the brain at all times. 

More then anything though, this has been a huge exercise in seeing how far I've come and leaning into the unknown. I've been forced to dig deep and bring forth everything I've learned over the last few years about coping and thriving through the unfamiliar waters of the unknown without completely melting down. 

And throughout this all, I've felt a sense of calmness and peace I've never felt before. As if, everything tool I've learned, from mediation to self-love and forgiveness, to eating in a way to support my body through this, to asking people for exactly what I need, has armed me with everything I need to get through this patiently. 

Because unfortunately, there is a lot more waiting ahead of me. 

And that is where I am at now. 

My case has now been turned over to the Moore Cancer Center oncology department at UCSD and is being reviewed by the oncologist on staff. I hope to get an appointment with them in the next week. 

But for now I wait. 

I imagine next will be a PET scan to indicate potential hotspots and possible surgery to remove the lymph node.

So now the big question. How am I emotionally with all of this?

Initially it was hard to hear that once again, cancer had found it's way back into my life. Being faced with it at such and young age and watching members of my family and friends go through it for several years, I'm no stranger to cancer. But here's the thing, no matter how many times you hear the word, it's still just as shocking when someone says, "You have cancer."

Then throw in the word metastatic and it can send you into a bit of a panic. 

However, after the initial shock wore off and as my colonoscopy and CT scan came back clean, I'm optimistic that this isn't as bad as I had originally thought. That hopefully, it's just some weird rare cancer that is confined to my lymph but looks like metastatic cancer.  

In the meantime I've put myself on a super strict Alkaline diet, working with my natropath/Chinese medicine doctor incorporating as many holistic and natural therapies as I can right now to get my body and immune system as strong as possible.

I strongly believe the body can heal itself when given the right tools. I also believe that sometimes Western medicine is needed and this is one of those times. So I'll be using both to heal from whatever is going awry in my body. 

As I wait to gather more information I'll fight like heck to do whatever I can in the meantime to start the healing process. And that looks a little something like this:

Immune supporting therapies
Alkiline, organic diet ONLY
Colonics and enemas to properly detox
Therapy and Reiki
Prayer
Visualization and mediation
Essential Oils (Frankincense and Myrrh) and many others
Laughter - lots of it!
And I'm reading and talking to EVERYONE I can about all my options. I'm not going to rush into anything until I know everything I can. 

Below is one of the books I'm reading. 

And the lemon tree my mom bought me... when life gives you lemons...you drinks LOTS of lemon water for detoxification. 

I know some of you may role your eyes at this but there are countless stories and research out there that support the incredible benefits of Integrative Medicine and that is the only way I'll be comfortable treating this. 

At the end of the day, it's very personal. Although I choose to share openly because I believe sharing and connecting with others is not only healing for myself but could possibly help someone else, this all comes down to one thing; what feels right and the best to me. 

And I truly hope you learn to apply that same idea to your own life. 

In the meantime, I have a favor to ask all of you. Whether you pray, meditate, think positively, climb big mountains to feel closer to your source, please keep me in mind when you are doing all of it. 

Keep me in your thoughts, your prayers, your meditations, your light. When you are doing things that make you happiest, I hope you can radiate that joy my way. I believe in miracles. I believe in the power of the unknown. And I believe, more then anything, that I will get through this with your love, laughter, and light shining my way. 

I plan to document this journey as much as I can through this blog and videos. So if you want to be apart of it, please check back regularly. 

Until then, so much love to all of you. 

Love, 

Amanda

Depression, anxiety, darkness and the light: the process of becoming

In the middle of the journey of our life
I found myself within a dark woods
Where the straight way was lost. 
-- Dante Alighieri

I believe there comes a point in everyone's life when you feel lost and utterly derailed. There is a  moment, a season, a year or even years, where we are being asked to let go of what is known and step into the unknown, exploring ourselves on a deeper level. Will you listen? Will you answer the call from within and walk through the door of the unknown? 

---

Many people don't know this about me, including some of my closest friends and family, but I've struggled with depression and anxiety for most of my life. I'm actually pretty sure I came out of the womb in the middle of one giant anxiety attack and it never went away. 

Its varied over the years from crippling, can't get out of bed, massive amounts of fear and tears and paralyzing stillness and worry, to feeling just numb enough to put on a fake smile and exist. I'd show up and contribute to life all the while trying my best to hide my pain from others.

I've analyzed myself a lot over the years, questioning when and where this all began  At one point I feared I suffered from bipolar disorder after someone very close to me was diagnosed with it when I was in my teens. I've never admitted that out loud to anyone. But getting honest with yourself can be hard and I'd often shut down after getting to a certain point. 

But over the last few months I've dug deeper and had an incredible shift. What I have come to realize over the last few months is that my depression and anxiety stem from a lack of self acceptance and love for who I truly am. I have spent so many years wearing various masks trying to gain acceptance and validation from everyone else.  

Through therapy and Reiki over the last few months I've learned a tremendous amount about myself and have felt a beautiful shift within. It's subtle, but incredible and different. Its like nothing I've experienced before.  

 I'd like to share my story a bit more with the hope that maybe it will help you in some way. If you need it that is. 

I was a wildly dramatic child that felt everything. I was curious and full of wonder. I felt things much deeper then most people did and to this day, still do. I naturally watched and observed people with a fine eye and often knew things about them without them even having to tell me. I could feel and pick up on their energy very quickly and would take on their emotions without knowing what was happening. I had no idea what this meant back then but learned years later that I am an empath. 

Growing up I regularly heard from people closest to me that I was too sensitive, dramatic and emotional. As someone who already felt incredibly different then most kids around me, I was desperate to belong and be accepted and what I heard was that this side of me was unlovable. 

I too began to view this side of myself as unacceptable and unlovable and thus, shut er' down. The problem with shutting down one side of ourselves is that we replace it with something else. We replace it with what we think others will love and accept. That something else is built out of fear, a persona that was everything a sensitive person was not; hard, stoic, moody, and angry.

You don't want me as sensitive, kind and loving, well, okay then, maybe you'll love me and give me the attention I crave this way. And that was the mask I put on. 

Now, none of this was on a conscious level mind you. And, I don't believe those who constantly told me I was too sensitive meant any harm by it. They were merely uncomfortable with it for reasons that only they may, or may not know.  However, as a child or adolescent, we are just seeking love and acceptance, we are impressionable and trying to find meaning in the world and we'll mold ourselves in any way we possibly can to get that. 

However, at some point, and I do believe this happens to everyone, our authentic self is so desperate to be seen that this facade, the masks we put on so long ago, start to feel uncomfortable. So now we are caught in that middle place, fighting the in-between of what we know is safe and what we know to be real. 

So we grow anxious and worried and fearful and confused. There is a war going on inside of us and at this point, who wins depends on if we are truly ready to accept who we are ourselves. More or less, it depends on how aware we are of the fact that we are aloud to change. We are aloud to take off the mask and be who you were born to be. 

This is terrifying at first.

When you first realize you have the right to change, to grow and evolve. It's really f*&King scary. A lot of people stay right here, unable to move forward. Believe me when I say that I know this place very well. 

At a very early age I dabbling in self-discovery and personal development because from some intuitive place, I knew this was the way to the truth. This was the way, for me, to understand myself more, to heal and grow and overcome the darkness. I was, very much, lead down this path. I'd move forward, stay there awhile, then jump back to my place of comfort. 

Over the years I'd have moments of happiness, of feeling light and alive. This was when I felt connected to myself and my decisions and my choices reflected that. However, the darkness would always find it's way back in, creeping in like a fog rolling off the sea in the early morning. I would be left wondering if this was what my life would be like. Feeling lost and confused, desperate and unfulfilled. Would happiness always be fleeting? Would I never understand why I felt this way? 

I drifted forward in life, walking around in a confused state of wondering and questions started to surface. A lot of questions. Maybe you are or have been experiencing this too?

However, I had never experienced what I went through over the last few months. I guess the only way I've come to understand how to explain it is that is was some kind of awakening. A major shift on some level. All these questions were coming at me full speed and I finally had to courage to answer them truthfully. 

Whether you choose to start answering them depends on a lot of things but one of the greatest learnings I've taken away from the past few months of healing my depression and anxiety and from living with it for years is this; YOU HAVE TO FEEL IT TO HEAL IT.  

And this means feeling into some dark places. 

Abandonment, resentment, fear, lack of acceptance, betrayal, rage, not feeling enough, failure and the list goes on. 

But this is where we often stop. Right before we start to truly feel.  I mean, who really wants to feel? As a collective whole, we do just about anything to NOT feel. Human beings are incredible at not feeling. We have alcohol, drugs, sex, caffeine, sports, social media, gossip magazines, reality TV, and so on. 

One of the most powerful conversations I had in therapy so far was about this idea of feeling my pain. I believe we don't go to that place because we are so afraid that if we do, we'll never find our way out. We'll be eaten alive by the horrible pain.  

That was my biggest fear and why I avoided a lot of my pain for years. Admitting and ultimately, accepting the truths meant I could no longer settle to live within those stories anymore. It meant that I had to drop that mask, drop the act and find a different way of existing in the world. It meant possibly discovering things about those I love most that would change our dynamic, shake up our normal and who wants to be the person who does that? 

I knew I could survive with the way things were. Even with, at times debilitating depression and anxiety, I could survive because I had done so for most of my life. But something had shifted inside of me and I knew I couldn't avoid it any longer. 

This was a HUGE awakening for me because it shined a light on why I struggled with depression and anxiety. I had spent so many years wrapped up in so much anger for never feeling accepted for who I truly was. People closest to me wanted me to be different. They were uncomfortable with me being who I truly was, sensitive and emotional and too expressive, that I drowned out one of the most beautiful parts of me for one that I thought would be more lovable.

I realized I had so much subconscious resentment for others and for myself and I was scared to let that go. I was scared to drop the act because then I'd have to drop the story I have known my whole life. If I let go of that old story and accept the real version, it means that I was going to have to let them off the hook, forgive them and myself and truly show up in the world as me, whether people like it or not.  

The potential risk, the unknown, once again, feels so scary but so did staying where I was. The  old was too uncomfortable now. I'd grown out of that mask and I just couldn't bare the thought of putting on another one.

For the first time I want people to see me for who I really am. So here I sit, naked and raw, exposed to the elements ready to see what happens next. I don't want to go back and put on those old masks. 

And here is the thing, self-discovery isn't easy. Most, if not ALL of the time, it starts with a lot of pain. We are so afraid of the pain, aren't we? We will do anything to numb out the pain, thus, staying where we are. We'd rather live with our depression, anxiety, fear, and numbness then be seen for who we really are. 

It reminds me of this quote I stumbled upon:

Transformation isn't sweet and bright. It's a dark and murky, painful pushing. An unraveling of the untruths you've carried in your body. A practice in facing your own created demons. A complete uprooting before becoming." - Vicortia Erickson. 

 

But now the fun begins my friends; the becoming. Are you ready?

The Highest I've Ever Been {Part 1}

(Recently I was told by my mom that my blog posts are a little too long. Out of love, I know she wants me to keep the readers attention long enough to finish my post. My intention with blogging has always been, and always will be, more of a journal with the hopes of sharing, inspiring and above all, connecting with others. So, sometimes it means that the story takes a little longer to get out, the details, to me, are all important. So, I've decided to break this one up a bit so it's shorter, maybe you'll read all of it and while still keeping the integrity of the piece. - Here ya go Ma! Love you!)

"We must take adventures in order to know where we truly belong."

It's 12:30am and I wake to the clicking sound of someone lighting the propane gas stove twenty feet from my tent. Its pitch black and cold but not nearly as cold as it soon will be as I snuggle down further into my sleeping bag. "Just a few more minutes." I say to myself. 

I roll over, knowing very well that I have twenty-five minutes, exactly, to get up, brush my teeth, get my coffee and change into my black fleece-lined running leggings which I've chosen because of their warmth, my grey swiftly tech long sleeve crew that is quick drying and surprisingly warm, and my dark grey running jacket. The one with the little thumb holes and giant hood. I make a mental note to pack my North Face down jacket and of course, my black and red checkered flannel in my pack in case I get cold. 

I've already been wearing my black Graced by Grit sports bra for the past three days and crack a smile at how uncouth I am. All of this accompanied by my new REI hiking socks, my low top hiking boots that I got before I backpacked around Mt. Hood, and of course, my green 'Be Hippy' hat. She goes everywhere with me. 

I hear Robb climb out of his tent and realize I am running out of time. It's now or never. 

"Do you really want to do this Amanda?" I quietly ask myself as I thought of all the reasons to bail out last minute, all little while lies of course. I got my period? No, girls do plenty of stuff on their moon cycle. I twisted my ankle on yesterdays short hike and it's just too painful? No, they would have been well aware of anything like that happening yesterday. I'm too sensitive to altitude? Nope, you've been acclimating for two days just fine. There are bears and mountain lions and I really do like my face. Ugh, Amanda, toughen up.  

And then the real reason starts to bubble up from deep within and I could not ignore it any longer. I'm just plain f&^king scared.

I crawl out of my warm sleeping bag and unzip the tent door making a mental note to go to the next REI sale and purchase one of my own all while simultaneously feeling very grateful for neighbors who had a small tent I could borrow.

Grabbing my headlamp, I switch on the light and navigate my way to the picnic table twenty feet away from my borrowed tent and say good morning to John and Robb who are busy making coffee as I walk past them to my car to change into my hiking attire. 

As I fumble back to the picnic table, the hot water is bubbling and the coffee is steeping and I finally give in to the fear and the excitement that I am, in fact, going to climb the tallest mountain in the lower forty-eight. 

I grab my toothbrush and walk about thirty feet away from camp, more for one last moment of reprieve then to follow the rules of camping.  I am filled with the feels that come with facing your fears; a mix of excitement, wonder and nerves coupled with a slight numbness and an overwhelming feeling that I am exactly where I need to be. That every experience, for better or worse, has lead me to this very moment. And I crack and faint smile as I think back to how it all began. 

When I was somewhere around ten years old, my dad took me up my first mountain. Tiger Mountain sits east on I-90 about twenty minutes from the home I grew up in. My dad, the epitome of fit in my small and narrow world, was beginning to train for Mt. Rainer and I thought he was nothing short of the cat's meow. 

Together, we jumped in his blue Chevy pickup truck, barreling down the road, we sang along to Randy Travis, "He wore starched white shirts buttoned at the neck, and he'd sit in the shade and watch the chickens peck. And his teeth were gone, but what the heck, I thought that he walked on water." As we drove and sang I stole sideways glances and smiled at the man who in my world, walked on water.  

I started the hike with a burst of energy, running up ahead shouting back at my dad to hurry up as my spiral strawberry blonde curls danced frantically on top of my head. I don't know why I remember my curls but they were big and everywhere and a vivid part of this memory. I also remember wearing a white shirt splattered with a mix of red, blue and yellow paint and dollops of sparkly puffy paint that matched the same colors of the regular paint. All paired with navy blue loose fitting cotton pants with an elastic waistband and white tennis shoes. Be nice, it was the late eighties, early nineties after all. 

At some point early on, I grew tired and my dad ended up carrying me on his back for a good portion of the steeper parts of the trail. Despite my exhausted effort, I was hooked. The sweet smell of vanilla scented pine trees and morning dew was like a hit of crack; intoxicating, inviting, invigorating. I was hooked and little did I know then but my soul would always fiend for more.

The quiet, which is at times almost eery, sends you into an almost meditative trace. Every noise is pronounced, every moment seems heightened and whatever thoughts are dancing around in your head and emotions in your heart are exaggerated, whether you like it or not, you feel things and think things you spend all your other time trying to ignore.

When the wind rustle through the trees or the branches creak around you, you feel it throughout your body. Ever foot step inviting more as rocks and dirt crunch beneath your feet. And the soft lullaby of the bird's who perch high above, watching, observing your every move, are forever etched in your memory. 

My heart was stolen, all those years ago, by the timeless wonder and mystery of the mountains and now by the bittersweet nostalgia that each dance in the wilderness brings, when I remember  a time when to me, he still walked on water.  

I always think of that morning as I set out on another adventure in the mountains. I always think of my dad, who  most likely unbeknownst to him, inspired this deep love, this connection to a part of myself that is the most wild and untamed, raw and inspired. It was my dad, all those years ago, who first instilled my longing, my deep and at times reckless need, to be wild and free. 

I shake the memory off as we climb into the rented maroon Kia Minivan I told Robb was a 'chick magnet.' "Girls just love dudes who drive maroon Kia minivans Robb. It screams babies." I said laughing as we sipped on our hot coffee and loosely chattered about nothing much at all.  

"The mountains are calling and I must go." I said over and over quietly to myself as we drove down the road that lead to the tallest mountain in the lower forty-eight.

I needed my latest fix. I needed to get higher then I've ever been.  

Part two coming soon...stay tune.

"I am willing to see things differently" -- a story of breakup, growth and understanding.

"It takes courage...to endure the sharp pains of self discovery rather than choose to take the full pain of unconsciousness that would last the rest of our lives." - Marianne Williamson

Lately, my mornings have begun like this. At the first sign of light, my body becomes restless, twitching ever so slightly as it slowly comes out of a deep and intense dream filled sleep.  I can already tell by the lighting that it's early, probably between six and six-thirty in the morning. The downside of being a lark in a world full of owls is that no matter what time you go to bed, your body wakes with the rising of the sun.

 I shift ever so slightly in bed until I become conscious that I am, once again, awake. I lay there momentarily until I have a good grasp on how I feel. My dreams have been filled with interesting story lines lately, ones I can only imagine Freud would have a heyday with. The monsters are playing tricks with me again. Monsters that can only be stirred by heartache and loss and leaving. 

I open one eye, then the other, blinking uncontrollably as I patiently wait for them to adjust to the dim morning light. I move my body in a more direct and aware manner now, noticing how I feel. Sore and achy seems to be the norm lately, all for good reason though. Then it hits me, that undeniable feeling of heaviness that smacks me in the middle of my chest. And I remember. 

Two weeks have gone by and it's slowly starting to fade and I find myself in an interesting position. A mix of holding on and letting go. The never ending battle between the head, and the heart. 

I want to roll back over and go back to sleep, I long for the reprieve from the battle within. An eight hour break from feeling...anything. When you are a person who has finally allowed yourself to feel everything deeply, sleep becomes a welcome escape every now and then. Not that I condone numbing or escaping, I fully believe in facing your feelings head on. However, sometimes the reprieve is needed, even for just a day or two.  

In my morning fuzz, I remember the excitement of yesterday, how good I felt, how free and full of possibility. How my friend and I were talking and laughing about life's little mysteries on our bike ride. How when one door closes, it means others are waiting to open in its place. And then, in the matter of twelve hours, you can wake with that sinking feeling in your chest again, grasping for what's familiar once more. 

We want to hold on to the potential, especially when it's someone who we could see and feel something real with. When it's someone who gives you that feeling that only comes once ever so often. The chemistry.

We want to hold on to the little moments, the treasured inside jokes, the sweet somethings they do just to show they care, the mornings filled with laughter and stolen glances of admiration. You long once again for the "good morning sunshine" texts and wonder why you didn't completely cherish and appreciate them in the moment. 

As human beings, it's hard to let go of something that feels good, something our heart wants. We are in a constant tug-of-war with our resistance to change. We waver every day, between multiple feelings and extremes. We hold on to the known because we are terrified of what the unknown may bring. Even when it very well could be better for you. I am no stranger to this truth.

I shake my thoughts off and push back the covers forgetting that my four-legged companion was curled up, deep in his own dream world, at the end of my bed. Startled awake, he gives me a dirty look, one he's perfected perfectly. So much so that it feels like a tiny danger right through my heart. He jumps off the bed, running to the closed bedroom door and begins to scratch gently. A signal to me that he wants out. I really do not think people give cats enough credit for their keen ability to train humans. 

I sit up in bed and stare back at him, my dearest companion of ten years, as his quiet pawing at the door has now become a frantic mix of body slamming and deep, guttural cries. All with the occasional pause and glance back towards me to make sure I've taken notice and I'm in pursuit of doing something about it. 

"Jeeze Oliver.." I say as I throw my legs over the side of the bed scratching my tangled mix of overly processed, dry curly hair.  "Calm down. People are going to think I torture you or something. You are so stinking dramatic." I say as calming as I can, as if my tone just may ease his fears of being trapped in our bedroom. He glances back at me as if to say, "Look lady, if you don't let me out RIGHT NOW, I will destroy you and everything in this room!" And then I swear he bared his teeth and growled at me.  

Ten years. Ten years of perfected attitude. Ten years of knowing just how to get me to do what he wants. 

I stepped onto the faded brown carpet that lined my bedroom floor. "Oliver, one of these days I really hope you appreciate what you have. You could be a mangy street cat who's left to his own devices. Try that on for fun." I say with my sassiest tone as I open the door. He barrels out, running as fast as he can into the sliding glass door. I stare on in mild disbelief. "Payback." I mutter as I walk to the sliding glass door and give him the very thing he longs for; freedom. This irony is not lost on me as I reflect on my recent breakup. 

I watched as he sprints out the door, panicked and needing air, only to stop six feet away and sit on the stones that adorn the backyard patio. With his back to me, I can tell his eyes are closed as he feels the light breeze against his fur and the warm morning rays of sunlight beginning to poke through the trees that line our backyard, and I can tell he has found his peace. He finally feels free.

And it hit me; we are more alike then I've ever realized. 

The anxiety that was bubbling in my chest from the moment I woke needed to be released, it needed to be free.  

I quickly changed out of the night shirt I had wore to bed, throw on my purple leggings and a black and white tank top I find in my closet and deem clean enough to wear out in public. I throw on my green 'Be Hippy' hat, standard attire for most of my outings if I'm honest, and slip into my favorite black flip flops and head out the door, grabbing my keys and ten dollars on my way out. 

I drive to my favorite coffee shop and grabbed my black cup of inspiration and head down to walk the beach. 

Over the last few years one of my daily practices has be trying to listen to what I need and want more and convince myself of other things less. I mean, that is pretty much self-love 101, right? What does your heart want Amanda? What do you NEED right now Amanda? How are you feeling in this moment Amanda? All questions I try to infuse moment to moment, situation to situation and experience to experience.  

However, this doesn't mean it does't come without painful experiences or feelings. Not everything we need is what we want, at least on a conscious level, and not every decision makes you feel great in the moment or for the weeks that follow. However, learning to listen to yourself and trust what your intuition is telling you will always lead you to the truth. 

As I walked along the beach I observed the heaviness in my chest and feel the longing to understand. "I am willing to see things differently." I mumbled to myself. "I am willing to see things differently.

The truth is, any time something comes to an end, whether that is a romantic relationships, an opportunity we thought we really wanted, a job, a friendship or so forth, there is an undeniable pain and feeling of loss that comes with it.  A sadness, a disappointment, a longing for what was and what could have potentially been. But a long time I go I was told by a wise person to never date potential. Always trust and work with what is right in front of your face. 

Some can stuff their feelings down. I know this because I use to be incredibly skillful at stuffing myself. So good in fact that I thought I was dealing with whatever was happening but the truth was, I was stuffing. 

You numb yourself perfectly to the point where you feel...nothing. No feelings come or go. No real happiness and no real sadness. In an attempt to not feel the lows, congratulations, you now feel nothing at all. 

It will however, always resurfaces in some way, at some point, in some form, usually as some complicated mix of anxiety, anger and sadness and you will be left feeling more then if you would have just dealt with it in the first place. 

You have to deal with life head on or all those issues with continue to resurface until you do. Please believe me when I say this. You will continue to be met with the same situation, the same person, the same scenario over and over until you get to the root of why you are attracting that in the first place. This has been the greatest lesson this past year for me. 

You end a relationship with someone for a reason. Compatibility. Life goals and values. Bad timing. Betrayal. Lack of respect and communication. And sometimes something ends out of fear. Fear of being hurt, fear of the unknown, fear of growth, fear of change, fear of being challenged into a new way of existing, fear of old wounds resurfacing. Fear of never being enough for someone. 

And sometimes you don't even want the breakup but you know you have to and it takes everything in you to cut the ties and slowly, but surely, move on. Because you realize that deep within you, you want more for yourself. You deserve better. You deserve to stay true to what you know exist but needs time to manifest.  

And so, once again, you are left feeling the feels. Deeply. It's taken me a long time to allow myself to really feel an ending, no matter what that ending is. How long the relationship lasted is irrelevant to what the relationship brought you. You can experience something more deep and meaningful with someone in three months then someone you've been with for two years. It's about chemistry. It's about connection. It's about friendship. And when that is gone, it hurts. Deeply. 

When they are no longer in your life, mourning is an important part of moving on. I would advice against trying to avoid this process. I would advice against trying to fill that void too quickly with things that bring you momentary happiness or excitement. Feel. The. Feels. All of them. That isn't to say wallow in your pain. Please, surround yourself with love and laughter and happiness. Find gratitude and appreciation for those pure moments of joy. But don't try to cover up those quiet moments when you are alone, feeling the feels. 

When I was going through my divorce I was told by many people that the best way to get over someone was to "get under someone else." I know most were joking. However, I know it's a common practice. Why feel the pain when you can feel the pleasure with someone else? Multiple times in one night.  Come to think of it, you actually get a lot of really interesting advice when you are going through a divorce but that one piece has never sat right with me nor will it ever be a way I work through a break up. I need to feel the feels. 

As I walked the beach and repeated "I am willing to see things differently," I felt the heaviness in my chest begin to lift as something profound and vital to my evolution as a person hit me. This isn't necessarily an ending, this is an awakening. It's a loss and a gain. 

As my mom always says, people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime, and when something is so short-lived, it's usually for a reason, a lesson, a quick smack up side the head to say "Amanda, seriously. LISTEN ALREADY, will you?"

I was being gifted an opportunity. I was being cracked open so I could see where I still need to heal, to grow, to learn and to "see things differently." Ultimately, I was given an opportunity  to shift perspective, to do things differently, to acknowledge damaging patterns, to understand my pain, my triggers, my fears and myself even better, and to continue to figure out how to forgive myself and ultimately, love and trust myself deeper.  And that my friends, that is a truly a gift.

Losing someone is never easy. Actually, it sucks. Plain and simple. I feel like I've lost an extremely close friend. I feel like I've lost something that meant a lot to me. I feel like I've lost something that had all the potential to be magical. A confidant, a closeness, a person I turned to. An attraction, a chemistry, a deep something.  You spend all this time with a person and then wham! In one day they are gone, no communication, no response to a momentary weakness when you send them a "I miss you" late night text. Nothing. And you are left spinning. Feeling completely abandoned. But I promise you, it's all FOR you. It's all for your growth...and theirs. 

Over a year ago I got 'wild and free' tattooed on the inside of my left bicep and six months ago I got "eudaimonia" on my rib cage, both as a daily reminder to always listen to myself, always strive to step up and live from a genuine place and always ask myself what it is I truly want. Mostly, I use it as a compass for my life. Are the decisions I make leading me towards feeling free or further away? Are certain situations in my life leaving me feeling like a trapped cat in a room where it feels like the walls are closing in on me, or do they contribute to feeling the wind on my skin and a sense of overall freedom? Are they based on true love for myself or a feeling of lack and neediness? 

So yes, breakups and loss are painful. It's not always what you really want. However, trust that if you are truly listening to yourself, life will start to unfold FOR you. If you are willing to see things differently, you will.