The Beginner’s Guide to Meditation

Tiny Buddha statue on a mossy rock

It’s becoming pretty obvious that our ridiculous full voicemail, texting, Netflix-watching, desk job, blue light, to-do-list-filled lives are screwing with us. We’re all anxious and depressed and overwhelmed and floaty-feeling because the last time we weren’t plugged into some kind of device, Bill Clinton was in office.

So, of course, the ones with all the obnoxious wisdom have spoken. It’s time to forest bathe, do yoga, and most importantly: meditate.

You know, sit in a quiet place, focus on your breath, practice mindfulness…pull your fingernails out one by one and try to boil yourself to death in a half inch of water. ‘Cause really, what’s the difference?

I hate meditating. God, it’s hard for me. My mind is a tireless athlete whose running inner monologue is essentially:

“Hustle, hustle, hustle, don’t end up like your mother, hustle hustle hustle, ooh, that’s a good idea, write that down, hustle hustle hustle.”

My “distracted ambition” (patent pending) is kindling for panic attacks.

So I visit the Pinterest boards filled with perky chicks wearing tank tops that say “Namastay Grateful.” I try so hard to read these posts, which are all soothing and helpful, and I can almost make it through one before the heat of irritation bubbles up into my soul and I go, “Ahhhhhhhh, I can’t even read about meditating, let alone meditate.”

So what do you do when you feel disconnected? Like you are a passenger in your own life? When you feel anxious? When you get that feeling that time is either going at a crawl or speeding by like lightning…or both?

Unfortunately, you fucking meditate.

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Here’s a guide for my lovelies who want to want to mediate: Continue reading “The Beginner’s Guide to Meditation”

Today, Be Anything but Happy

A pineapple on the beach

Sometimes I read stuff like this article called “Why Pursuing Happiness is the Greatest Goal” and wonder why traditional advice doesn’t seem to apply to me.

I just absently blink at 90 percent of the “awesome truths” that “change people’s lives.” When I try to apply them to my own life, I end up totally dissatisfied, living in a yurt with a mouthful of chia seeds dribbling down my face, yelling positive affirmations into the mirror.

I’m pretty sure if there is anything that makes humans miserable, it’s chasing happiness.

Knowing that it’s The Goal of almost everyone I know is so tragic I can’t. Hardly. Even.

Before you get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with happiness…It’s just not a goal. And exalting one emotion doesn’t sit well with me

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Continue reading “Today, Be Anything but Happy”

The Beginner’s Guide to Positive Thinking in Three Difficult Steps

A woman against a sunset at the beach

Confession:

When I am with a client and they start to “go off,” I mean really make a spectacle, a part of me relishes it. I go to my happy place four hours into the future where I waltz into the bar, plop my purse down on the table, and tell my girlfriends, “You’re. Not. Going. To. Believe. This. Shit.” I then revel in their shocked faces while the shit-talking pours freely from my mouth like some kind of Mean Girls-style verbal diarrhea. Lord forgive me.

Like most women with a lot of sauce, the idea of embracing “positive thinking” summons images of girls in skirts made of wheat, singing Kumbaya around a campfire or literally stopping to smell flowers and staring up at the sun to bask in the radiance of the day. Basically, a fucking nightmare.

But…

There are a few mental habits that I have embraced of late, and I feel better for it. So this guide is for my down-to-earth ladies who would like to bring a little positivity into their lives without having to learn to play the ukulele.

Continue reading “The Beginner’s Guide to Positive Thinking in Three Difficult Steps”

Hippie Shit That Actually Works

A woman's hand on a cup of tea

Ah, hippie shit.

Who among us can resist its siren call? After all, don’t we all want to live in a world where the solution to every problem we have lies in our pantry? Child not doing well in school? Rub em down with cornstarch. Dismissive husband? Simply dab some apple cider vinegar behind his ears (organic, of course).

There’s nothing quite so delightful as the smugness that comes with rubbing oil of oregano onto our feet while drinking chamomile tea and explaining to our girlfriends that western medicine just doesn’t compare when it comes to treating gangrene.

I like to think of myself as a wise woman of the world. But I have a confession: I’m hippie on my mother’s side (so half hippie) but I have a highly tuned bullshit-o-meter. So this means I will stick a clove of garlic up my hoo-ha to get rid of a UTI, but I will not use crystals to alleviate my allergies. Ya feel me?

Here are five Damn Girl tried and true’s:

Continue reading “Hippie Shit That Actually Works”