Here is the ultimate secret to having the life you’ve always dreamed of: To have the life you want, you have to be clear on what that is.
 
Most people either don’t know or are too terrified to admit what they really want. Others think they know what they need - only to find themselves with a full house and garage, but an empty heart and soul.
 
Getting super clear on what you want your life to look like is the crucial step to having it - the more clear you are, the better your chances are of getting it. 
The rest is left up to how hard you are willing to fight for it - and staying consistent especially when it gets uncomfortable.

Clarity

Resistance Training

na`au:
                     Refers to your gut or your ki or chi — the place where your soul resides just below your solar plexus. The place where you “know” things and hold the entirety of life’s experiences.
 
There’s a feeling in my stomach I cannot ignore. No, it’s not gas or a bowel movement, it’s something deeper. It is my core sending me a very important message. It’s my gut letting me know something is brewing, something is stirring, and it’s something that is somewhat out of my control. It is my path getting paved. It’s my glow igniting. It's my na`au. 
 
Momentum has begun and I have total butterflies. I’ve said it before, and it will probably be etched on my gravestone, “My accident gave me everything I ever wanted”. I have a purpose, a reason to be on a stage spreading an important message, I have a son who knows compassion and awareness on a whole other level, and my relationships have enriched beyond what I could have ever imagined - most importantly the relationship with myself. I was never meant for the stay at home mom life, or the office life, or the corporate life. I was destined to have an audience. Problem was, until 6 years ago I had nothing worth talking about on that stage.

What’s Brewing

A couple weeks ago, the whole state of Hawaii was on high alert for Hurricane Lane. The stores ran out of water and other supplies, the Red Cross had arrived, the Governor had issued a State of Emergency and every family was in emotional distress as we anxiously watched the 24-hour news coverage. Even if the hurricane was not a direct hit, we still expected tropical storms and flooding. 
 
My mind was racing as I thought of ways to keep Charlie safe based on my physical limitations. I packed an emergency backpack, stocked up on food, water, flashlights and other supplies and even parked my car across the street at the top of a hill in case our parking lot got flooded as it’s known to do. I had officially bitten off all my cuticles, a bad habit of mine when I’m anxious, and once there was nothing left to bite, I turned to food.

Breakouts & Blemishes

What we wear is such a statement of who we are. I believe with my whole heart that what we put out is what we receive, and the same goes for our appearance. What we put out there to the world is how the world will receive us.

Fancy Schmancy

When I used to think of health as a teenager, I would think about how skinny I was. If I was fitting into my jeans without a bulge around my waist, then I was healthy. 
 
Fast forward to the onset of the wheelchair tummy as it’s lovingly referred to in the disability community. As you can imagine, I was not healthy compared to my teenage mentality. This tummy seemed to come out of nowhere. One day I saw of photo of myself in a swimsuit, and not only did I see a bulge, I saw a sad face behind the smile. It broke my heart. It was around the beginning of the year, I had just eaten my way through the holidays and I was in the depths of my emotions. I had just begun to see a therapist, and I was beginning to drum up some deep feelings. On top of it, I wasn’t bringing my best (or even my mediocre) self to any area of my life, and it showed

I took a series of steps towards my Wellness Trilogy.

Trilogy of Self: 12 Steps to Transformation

I like my brain. I like the way my mind processes life, my ability to sort things out and the way it journeys when my pen hits the paper. I think about how it developed in my early years, and how our lack of money would provide a catalyst to that development. I remember watching my dad fix the VCR and other things around the house because replacing them wasn’t an option. I loved going to thrift stores with him and sifting through all of the things that were no longer serving a purpose to their previous owners, but were a total treasure to me. There is an art to thrift store shopping, and I’m weirdly proud to say I’m extremely talented in this arena. My brain sees the potential, rather than the damage. 
 
My dad. Oh my dad. God, as a child I looked up to him so much. I thought he was the greatest person in the world, and I loved making him proud.  When I was 8 years old, my parents divorced and my father made his way out of the picture. Let’s just say the relationship would be limited and tumultuous from then on. I bring this up not for pity, but because it was a pivotal time in my life on a multitude of levels. There are some things I have a love-hate relationship with, my parents’ divorce being one of them. I loved my dad so much. He was everything to me, and I hated how it felt went he left me. However, I hate to think of how my life would have gone had my parents stayed together. If I was anyone else, I don’t think I would have chosen to have him in my life. He was the great and powerful Oz to me as a little girl. To everyone else, he was the most difficult person to get along with. Love. Hate.

Shaped for Success

One thing that has driven me crazy since my accident, is when a restroom is completely handicap accessible - I’m talking perfect toilet height, safety rails, ample space in the stall, even having automatic door openers - and then I go to wash my hands and I can’t see myself in the mirror! It’s like the business has put so much thought into bringing the restroom up to code, but failed to see the people it would be servicing. 
 
With that said, I am beginning the hashtag #SeeMe and I really hope to make this a movement. See my strengths, see my needs, see my worth. See me.

#SeeMe

Lately I’ve been told I’m glowing. And I’m not talking one or two people, I’m talking more like two or three - per day! All with the same word, “glowing". Each time it amazes me that others can see it because I honestly feel like I am glowing. I feel bright, determined and alive. 
 
It has officially been a year since my baby, Vertical Blonde, was born. I remember on Mother’s Day last year being so excited to publish my first blog. The words flowed out of me like a gentle river, still a little hesitant, but not lacking passion. I wrote about being a “Disabled Momma”; something that has really been the catalyst towards the gratitude for the MANY blessings that have come from that life-changing moment as I flipped through the air on a four-wheeler. Holding on tight, feeling like I was screaming as loud as I could, yet only hearing the cracking of my bones breaking with each flip. Terrified, waiting for it to be over, yet not realizing the magnitude of my injuries, assuming I would walk away healthy. 
 
Today I am still screaming, sometimes in shear panic as I embark on an intense amount of vulnerability with myself and others, and other times screaming in pure joy as I speed downhill after a victory. Butterflies in my stomach, and feeling the exhilaration of overcoming some kind of defeat, I’m amazed at just how much I can handle once I make it out alive and thriving on the other side. I guess not much has changed since that fateful day.

You Glow Girl

In the grieving process, there are five steps. From what research says, everyone will go through each step for every loss - no matter if it’s losing your favorite jacket or enduring a major trauma like mine. The steps can take anywhere from seconds to a lifetime to go through, but the steps remain the same. 
 
Step 1: Denial 
Step 2: Anger
Step 3: Bargaining 
Step 4: Depression
Step 5: Acceptance
 
I can almost pinpoint where and when I have transitioned to each step, sometimes teetering back and forth between them. Bargaining and Depression had me in their grasps for some time, bringing a feeling of waiting with them. I was waiting for someone to go do things with me, waiting for permission to be ok with what happened, or waiting for someone to tell me I didn’t have to be ok with it all. I was just waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for someone, something, somewhere, somehow. I was letting it kill me, it was getting to me, and I didn’t realize I had all the control to step out of it. 
 
After working with my therapist for a few months, I asked her how long the process would take. I wanted to know when I could expect to be “better”. I just wanted to know what to do and how to do it, and I expected her to give me the game plan. Unfortunately, her response caught me completely by surprise. She told me, with all the compassion she could offer, “There’s a part of you that may never be over it”.

Vertical Blonde

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