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Petrina Fran, Founder of Harvest Health, Talks About Her Past Eating Disorder + Shares A Beloved Family Recipe

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Petrina Fran, Founder of Harvest Health, Talks About Her Past Eating Disorder + Shares A Beloved Family Recipe


By @HarvesttHealth, Petrina Fran


 I always had a love for movement; Sometimes it was gymnastics, BMX, and dance. Other times it was softball, cross country, and swimming. Basketball and soccer were fun too, but growing up the activity didn’t really matter, as long as I was moving.

It wasn’t until the end of middle school where I became aware of my body and I began to make a shift. I continued to play sports in high school, but I started to explore running to change how my body looked. Despite my initial motive, it eventually became a way to clear my mind and escape the reality of my family’s divorce drama.

Running along the ocean made me feel free, gave me peace of mind and allowed me to have time alone.

It wasn’t until the days where I didn’t have time to run when I started to understand the connection between my mental state and exercise. On the days I didn’t run, I felt overwhelmed, anxious, and scatterbrained. After recognizing that moving my body on my terms was the mental relief I needed, I made sure to make time for daily movement because it helped me be present.

However, although I did find peace of mind to begin with, I began to run religiously, thinking that what I was doing was not enough, and I experimented with several diets. This eventually led to an eating disorder, starting in my early high school years through to the middle of college.

My eating disorder was rooted from the belief that if I was skinnier, I would be more beautiful and happier.

At the time, I didn’t understand that eating healthy was a lifestyle and that change happens over time. Instead I wanted to be thin within the next week or if I had it my way, yesterday. I began eliminating foods from my diet and decreased my intake. I saw quick results; however, it wasn’t enough. Each week I would ramp it up and took it to an extreme where I ended up running on fumes.

Through the process I lost myself, my passions, my curiosity, my zest for life and in return formed an obsession with how I looked. My mood and day were dictated by how my body looked when I lifted my shirt in the morning and stared at myself in the mirror. I felt alone and unable to escape the bully in my head.

All I wanted was a reset button.

I didn’t want to be me.

This wasn’t me.

I wanted out–I felt imprisoned in my own mind.

My mind constantly raced with the questions of what I ate, how much I ate, when I would exercise, if I exercised enough–it was exhausting.

I didn’t want to live this way anymore.

I stopped menstruating; I felt like I couldn’t go on. After reaching rock bottom, I slowly sought help because I knew I needed support to fight this battle. I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. I was depressed and anxious. I would be lying if I said I didn’t care what my body looked like anymore–because I did–but I cared more about having mental freedom. I wanted to think freely and not feel enslaved to the false reality I created for myself.

After several therapy sessions, self-help books, daily affirmations, internal battles, crying marathons, journaling, solo-traveling and more, I learned that I had all the tools inside me to set myself free.

My journey in relationship to food, my body, and my mind has taught me that real food and movement have the power to change your life and your mind.

As a part of my journey, I created my brand Harvest Health initially as a platform to share simple recipes that highlight real ingredients because I saw the positive effects real food has on our bodies and our minds.

I am still learning what works for my body and mind in each of its seasons, but now I choose to move and eat [in a way that is balanced- nothing in excess-] to feel physically and mentally healthier. While I recovered I saw there is more to life than my body, there’s a whole world ready to be explored inside and out of me.

As I continue my health journey it’s clear to me that mental health starts with your plate and your body, but expands to all the relationships you have in your life.

Mental health is a daily practice.

For me it took a lot of unlearning and tuning in to understand what my body, mind, and soul need to feel good on a daily basis. I used to define myself and my worth by my body, my eating habits, and my eating disorder, but those are the least exciting parts of me, yet felt the most real at the time.

Now I think the most beautiful part about me is my mind and desire to enjoy life.

We are magnificent multifaceted beings and health is merely a vessel to achieve our highest self.

Let’s celebrate our abilities and cheers to this

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Petrina shares a well-loved family recipe with us below!!

Salmon with L’agghia

Salmon with L’agghia


Recipe for Salmon with L’agghia

With my family origins deeply rooted as Sicilian fisherman, it was only normal for my entire family to gather at my Nonna’s house after my Nanno and uncle’s returned from their fishing trip in Alaska.

They would bring home wild Alaskan salmon that would then be enjoyed for months, but to celebrate their homecoming and success my Nonna would prepare my favorite salmon dish, barbecue, breaded salmon with l’agghia.

L’agghia in our “hillbilly Sicilian” dialect, as my Nonna likes to say, simply means “with garlic”–and when I say with garlic I mean guaranteed garlic breath. Despite the incredible amount of garlic, it’s a classic dish I always enjoyed and still enjoy, just with my own healthy twist.

This Mediterranean meal pairs well with a leafy green salad, asparagus, or roasted fingerling potatoes. Salmon with L’agghia Serves 5

Ingredients:

Breaded Salmon -5 4oz filets of wild salmon

½ cup almond flour

¼ cup chopped parsley

1 tbsp garlic powder

½ tsp salt OR to taste Pepper to taste

Extra virgin olive oil to drizzle

Sauce (l’agghia)- 1 cup parsley

5 large garlic cloves

¾ cup fire roasted tomatoes (I use the canned Hunts brand, but you can use fresh tomatoes too)

Salt and pepper to taste

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

More extra virgin olive oil to drizzle

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 400F.

In a shallow medium bowl or dish add your almond flour, chopped parsley, garlic powder, salt, and pepper and mix until combined.

Set the breading mixture aside.

Rinse and pat dry the salmon pieces.

Drizzle the salmon with olive oil and rub to lather.

Place the salmon flesh side down one at a time into the bread mixture and gently press down.

Remove fish from mixture and place the skin side down onto a baking sheet pan.

(A parchment paper lined or unlined baking sheet pan works)

Sprinkle and press more breading onto the salmon flesh if needed and repeat for all the fish.

Once all the fish are breaded then bake for 16-20 minutes depending on the thickness of your fish

(I generally bake mine for 17-18 minutes)

While the fish is baking, make the sauce:

In a food processor add the peeled garlic cloves and parsley.

Chop or pulse until both the garlic and parsley are roughly chopped.

Add the tomatoes and chop or pulse until a chunky sauce.

Add the olive oil, salt, and pepper and pulse until combined.

You want a medium chunky salsa consistency.

Remove the sauce from the food processor into a bowl and add a drizzle of olive oil and more seasoning to taste. After your fish is cooked remove from the oven and spoon the sauce over the fish.

Squeeze some lemon juice over the top if you want and enjoy!



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Recipe created by Petrina Pinto founder of Harvest Health

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Astrology + a New World Shift

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Astrology + a New World Shift

The REAL AGE of Aquarius!

 

By Corina Crysler

@corinacrysler

@themoonshineco

 

As I sit in isolation with my dog and watch the spread of a virus penetrate us on a global level, I am reminded of how we are so closely connected. Regardless of distance, race, gender, or social demographics, we are all in this together.

 

As a transformational astrologer I look for opportunities of change, not necessarily the prediction of our future. Yes- it is nice to know when you will make money or meet the love of your life, but my Scorpio/ Uranian moon seeks information for true change and growth. 

 

What is needed for transformation to occur? For the most part, it’s awareness.

 

Tapping into the interconnection of Pluto and Saturn over the last year has been my focus. Not only for my clients on a personal level but what this could mean on a global level.

 

Currently, this is what Pluto represents:

Pluto- The Transformer

Pluto rules Scorpio. Many astrologers look to Pluto as the planet that brings up “dirty” and “dark” things (due to the nature of the Scorpio energy).

I look at this completely differently. 

Darkness is not devoid of light, rather a concentration of source energy. It holds all the information that you are seeking and can ignite the transformation process with the right container. 

In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the Kidneys hold this energy which processes fear and holds the universe inside of us.  That “inner knowing” you feel comes from this place- but most of the time we are too afraid to go there as it holds uncertainty, shadows and the truth.

Pluto asks us to look at our fears to open our hearts. It provokes creation energy but also the energy of destruction. But really, we need both to transform

In order to begin something new, something must die. The reason we think it brings up negative and “dark and dirty” things is because they must come to the surface in order for change to happen. It’s a part of the process. Pluto (the Transformer) has the power to do this.  (We can actually see its work in the emergence of some very serious crimes in humanity from the last 2-3 years).

So- what is happening right now?

Pluto, the ultimate transformer, has been in alignment with Saturn. 

 

What does that mean?

 

Saturn is the planet of structure, rules, and how things operate; it’s the infrastructure on which our lives sit.

For example: Think of our government. It has sat in Capricorn (Saturn’s ruler) which has given Saturn some extra power. 

The downside to this?

Saturn can typically put up walls or barriers to “keep us safe”- but as a result this can also keep us small. 

These walls and barriers are embedded in our subconscious and have serious implications as to how we live and make decisions. This is essentially what is happening right now for our planet.

(My work typically focuses on how to break down these old walls that don’t work anymore). 

 

So what can we do?

 

It’s time to assess how our infrastructure has been operating for decades and look at what can be changed.

For example, Patriarchy has created segregation and misguided use of power. 

Processes are corrupt. 

We are killing our planet.

The way we coexist is disconnected.

Our priorities start with our smartphone. 

 

It all needs to change.

Amidst a global crisis we are forced to look at these things. 

Everyone is being affected by this one way or another. 

 

Pluto is creating this transformation and deeply addressing the wound that is among the collective.  It’s like dropping a bomb on the crappy house we have built in order for us to rebuild a stronger one- and with more wisdom of how to build a house.  

 

 Saturn in Aquarius.

 Saturn rules structure and has a lot of karma attached to it; but I also view it as the "bridge" that brings the outer and inner planets together. 

The outer planets move slowly and are harder to bring into your reality, but they hold the key to unlocking many subconscious patterns. 

Pluto is the transformer and works closely with “Chiron”, your wound. 

 

What does this mean?

 Use this time to shift your perspective on the foundation you have created for yourself.

 

For the last 2.5 years, Saturn has been in it’s beloved Capricorn, which rules structure, rules, authority, and ambition. On Sunday it will move into Aquarius. 

The energies could not be more different. 

Aquarius is about the collective. It is about the visionaries and predicts what we need to do for our future; it is inventive and super intelligent. It has zero patience for rules that don’t make any sense and will not tolerate suffering. 

 

It is the energy and awareness of how we need to rebuild.

The opportunity is to build a new structure with the collective in mind:

Equality. Kindness. Intelligent advancement for our planet.

 

On a personal level ask yourself: What walls (Saturn) have you put up to keep yourself safe? 

 Ask Pluto to show you the path of transformation that will move you into your personal power. 

 Where is the wound and what is needed for healing now, personally and globally?

 

Jupiter in the mix

The blessing in all of this is that Jupiter is right behind Pluto and Saturn, bringing us wisdom, abundance and expansion; But we must do the work. 

 

In all the fear, I invite you to use the energy to let go of old patterns to allow new ones to form. 

 If you lead with authenticity and from your heart space, the shift can create massive changes for the greater good of yourself and also for the collective. 

 

We need to think bigger and beyond ourselves. 

 The way to work with the collective consciousness is to start with you. 

 I invite you to consider every thought, word, action and intention as part of a collective energy that we are all tapped into.

 

If we start with changing our own mindset and actions, it will have an effect globally. 

 

When someone says to me, I am just one person, what can I really do?

My response is, David Bowie was one person and look what he did.

 

 Retrograde

Pluto, Saturn and Jupiter are so closely working together that they will be going into retrograde around the same time as well. All planets are influenced differently by retrogrades, but they will begin with Pluto at the end of April and not go direct again until mid-September. 

Retrogrades ask us to go back to things with current information to move forward. This may be a time to tie up loose ends and revisit old patterns that keep our walls up that are ruled by fear. 

Therefore, this is really when we do the work.

 

What does this all mean?

It means it’s time for us to really do better. 

We are being given the opportunity to change. 

We need to change for ourselves, change for the planet and change how we treat each other. 

 

Opportunities for change:

Instead of swiping left or right, try saying hi to someone instead

Put the phone down when you share a meal with someone

Ask about where your food and products come from 

Look closely at how you treat the animals on your plate that you then consume as an energy source

Re-evaluate what you think you are entitled to rather than working for it

Change your attitude around common kindness (no one should be sitting behind a computer screen bashing others)

As a Canadian, I feel extremely fortunate.

We live in a beautiful country full of resources we often typically take for granted. We have space, trees, mountains and tons of land we could be growing our own food on. 

Perhaps we can reframe our outlook on our “essentials” and discover what really makes us happy and come together in community.

 

As someone who works closely with people’s pain and helps them turn their pain into purpose,

I can assure you that what we currently think is important, really isn’t.

Most people want to be seen and validated for who they are.

They want love.

This is essentially the essence of being in the Age of Aquarius: Living in authenticity and purpose.

My prediction is the more we do this, the faster we get out of this.

Fuck the fear and find the alignment your soul is craving.

 

It’s time for my beautiful Aquarians to stand up (both sun and rising). 

It’s time for all the lightworkers and healers to come together to heal this collective wound we have created.

The cosmos is transpiring for change.

With courage + moving out of ego and into the collective consciousness we can create a stronger structure for humankind to sit on. It all starts with your attitude, behaviour and the inspired action you put around it.

 

Create the intention today of what is important to you in moving forward. This is the opportunity.

Intention + inspired action = manifestation

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I'm Cayla. This is My Story. Chapter 2

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I'm Cayla. This is My Story. Chapter 2

 Trigger warning due to the nature of content

When I was little, my Mom told me I was what the doctors called "flop-jointed"- which essentially means that I moved like I had no bones. I could easily put my leg behind my head, do the splits, distort my body in whatever way I wanted and I didn’t feel a thing.

I used to move like I had no bones.

Now, Twenty-two years later all I am is bone.

Life can feel so sadistic.

 

Chapter 2

 

I am lying in a heated room in the middle of Montreal, drenched in sweat.

I’ve been here for 22 days. Not 'here' in this room- but here in this training where I am learning how to teach hot yoga.

I know we left off around the time I was sitting in the car, staring at the windshield.
The story may eventually loop back here- it may not.

But for now all you need to know is that the intense pain that was plaguing me in the car is still present . On top of that, I'm starting to become aware of more pain in my body, and how I have learned to live with it; sit inside it. Sometimes the pain is systemic- sometimes it shifts into certain parts of my body. Today it has shifted from my stomach and into my wrists.

This pain is deep and stiff and lingering so bad I can barely wrap my fingers around the yoga block that is strewn on the floor next to my mat.

When I was young and learning how to Rollerblade, I never learned how to brake properly. Instead, I’d hold my hands out in front of me and my wrists would snap back whenever they caught the wall in order for me to fully stop.

Up until now, this is the narrative I have been telling myself as to why I live with pain in my wrists.

Isn’t it funny, the stories we tell ourselves, in order to avoid facing the truth?

The air is foggy and thick and the longer I am lying here the more my mind drifts off and for one full minute I am mentally pulled out of the yoga room and flashback into my old bedroom where I am lying directly on my wrists.

It’s 530am and I can hear her in the kitchen. She is rustling around looking for a spoon- presumably to stir her coffee, which she takes with her every morning she works in the OR.
I am definitely not sleeping.
I’m not even half asleep.
My body is flexed the way one might hold themselves as they prepare to walk down a back alley in the middle of an unknown city.
My jaw is clenched. My right cheek is pushed into the pillow and my eyes are fixed on a streetlamp that is still lit in the dark light of the morning, just beyond our house, just beyond my window, just beyond the blinds.

All of a sudden the clink clink clink of the spoon in the coffee stops, the rustling stops, and I hear that swishing noise paper makes when it lifts off a surface and I know now she is reading the note I have written her, the bomb I am dropping on her, the family tree I am uprooting in this exact moment.

My eyes are fixed on the street lamp and, although the entire weight of my body is on my hands right now I can feel my fingers instinctively curl around the sheets beneath me.

She’s coming.

My friend that is a dancer told me you can always tell how someone is feeling by the weight in their footsteps, and the weight that is drawing nearer to my bedroom door is heavy, thumping, filled with rage.

What little feeling I have left in my arms drains out of my body.

The colour drains out of my skin.

I hear the door fly open.

I pretend to be asleep. Which is funny in hindsight, because the adrenaline rushing through my veins is so strong I wouldn’t be able to close my eyes even if I wanted to.

So maybe a better way of putting it is:

I am immobile and praying she won’t ask questions.

“What the f*ck is this?”.

Her voice is stern, loud, hot water about to boil over.

I can’t see her in my peripheral but I know she is fisting the paper with one hand, holding her coffee spoon in the other, a dark shadow in scrubs standing in the light of the hallway, in the small glowing slivers of streetlamp.

I don’t respond, which pushes her over the edge.

She screams my name and when I remain unresponsive she grabs the corner of my duvet and yanks it completely off my bed exposing my body- rigid, frozen, distorted.

“ANSWER ME”.

She orders me to follow her into the kitchen, she turns to exit the room, she is a dark outline in the doorway just like he was- and for one moment she is Him, and He is here and I am small and clenching the sheets and curled into a ball pretending to sleep while his 6 foot frame engulfs me.

Everyone knows he is here, but no one knows what he's doing except for me.

I am both the witness and the victim.

His arms are long, clenched, immobile, and they are stretched over the top of my head like a bear trap. I feel his breath slink across the back of my neck and into my ear. I crank my head to the right, I cross my arms into an X, I roll onto my wrists to try and keep him out. I search the room for something to land my eyes on so I don't have to look at him.

There is a stationary bike in the corner. It's white and blue. I focus on that.


There are cut-outs in the white wall, they are filled with Grandmas jewelry. It's ornate, elaborate costume jewelry and I imagine myself wearing it. I focus on that.


I climb out of my body, and all of a sudden the next few moments aren't moments, they're polaroid's.


Bike. Jewelry. Him. Window. Door. Darkness.


I focus on that.


He has evil rushing like water underneath his skin. When he touches me my skin crawls and hours later when it's still crawling I question whether his evil has become a part of me.


I easily detach from my body now.


Some nights I just stand in the shower until the hot water runs cold. I stare at the droplets of water running down the white tile. I lose track of time, of feeling, of space. I learn to avoid mirrors because I see the grooves of his face in my jawline and it reminds me I will never fully be free, because blood is thicker than water.


In a small moment of email confrontation he denies everything, his girlfriend speaks up, says he was only acting in love.


"Do you have children?" I type, my blood boiling.


"Allow me to demonstrate on your children, exactly how he was being loving" I reply. There is sarcasm rushing off my tongue, vengeance running through my veins.


I press send. I dry heave into a garbage can.

 

I feel small, I am still. The air is foggy and thick. I have grown used to seeing the shadow of Him exiting the door.
My Moms voice, panicked, angry, prying, calls to me from the kitchen.
I grab my duvet off the floor. I wrap it around me, walk out the door and down the flight of stairs.


I'll probably need therapy for this, I quip

 

I am lying on my yoga mat. The air is foggy and thick.

I take my left hand and use it to bend my right wrist back and forth, back and forth. It's thin; frail. Exactly as I would expect it to be after sleeping on it for 15 years. The pain is pointed, raw, inscribed. I keep bending.

It's slow and methodical at first but then it builds into hysterical flapping because maybe if I bend it enough the stories will release from the fascia, pour out of my bones, I'll be free.

My teacher Dina- her footsteps are soft and kind and she comes over to me as I'm lying in Savasana the way a Mother moves to protect her cub. She places her hand on my knee, I deflate, I begin to cry. Tears spill out of me the way my sweat is pouring off my skin- quickly and without permission. 

This is the first time I have allowed myself to cry. In my entire life.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she mouths.

 



 

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On Grief

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On Grief

I've been sitting staring at this computer screen for a good hour now. I have so many words floating around in my head but I'm not sure how to get them out-what to start with, or where to go from here.

I tell people that I started the Move to Heal Project because I wanted to write about real things. The stuff that no one wants to talk about, but that everyone is feeling. This is true. But there is a reason as to why no one talks about certain things- because its really hard. Today in fact, it is extra hard. Part of me doesn't want to share; another part of me feels compelled to. I feel compelled because if we don't start talking about the hard things, who will? It's important for me to say that if you are reading this, you never walk alone. 

So on that note, I want to tell you about my friend Katharine. I want to talk to you about Grief.

Katharine died 12 years ago today. Twelve years. It seems surreal to actually write that out. The way she died and the story around it is tragic, and contains details I still have difficulty wrapping my mind around. The aftermath of her death; the same. I swung into a deep atheism after she passed away, not understanding how something so tragic could happen to someone so young, and so beautiful. And by beautiful I mean pure. Amidst all the struggles that one naturally moves through when they are 19 and 20 years old, she was actually still a radiating beam of light. I don't think she had a mean bone in her body.

After she died, the only way I knew how to process it all was through writing. I was too shut off emotionally in my life in general to actually feel anything outwardly. In the piece I wrote one month after she died, I talked about how I didn't have any desire to wash my clothes, to brush my hair, or to buy new things. But I did write about how I began to feel an intense compulsion to strengthen my relationships; to find meaning in my every day activities.

Every year now I use April 3rd as a time to reflect on my life- and when I actually sit still to think about it so far I want to say that I still feel that way. When someone you love dies, everything you think matters, doesn't matter anymore. It all begins to shift. At least- that's the way it felt for me.

I think that in some cases, death can completely harden people or break them open. I would say with 100% certainty that part of the reason I am not hardened over is because of Katharine's Mom. Over the past 12 years I have seen that light that Katharine possessed shine so brightly through the actions of her Mother, which doesn't even really make sense. She lost her daughter. Yet she has taken her grief and her sadness and continually pours kindness and compassion into the lives of everyone around her. It's actually remarkable. I also think that this takes a tremendous amount of strength- in order to cultivate joy from pain I think you have to stare your pain deep in the eyes; you have to learn to sit with it. 

I think, with many things in life- but especially in the aftermath of grief- you are always left with a choice: Is this going to harden me or open me? Not to be confused with feeling your feelings. Like- death SUCKS. It's excruciating. I spent a good few years just being angry AF, throwing stuff, binge drinking, sabotaging friendships, acting out in relationships (for fear if I got too close I would lose them), you name it. Feel your feelings. Get it out. But this is why I say aftermath.

One of the most important things I have learned over the past two years is that, while we can't control what happens to us, we always have a choice as to how we are going to react to it.

 So every year on April 3rd, I think about this. I loved Katharine's kindness, her spirit, her heart. And what a gift she has given me because I now choose to fill my life with people who are light-hearted, and caring, and compassionate. 

I am inspired by the strength of her Mother- who, over the past 12 years has, many times completely out of the blue sent me something in the mail, or dropped a present off on my doorstep, or sent me the sweetest message. She has reminded me that this is how I want to live my life. I want my life to be meaningful. I want to cultivate meaningful relationships. I want to sit with the hollowness of my pain and use that space to cultivate joy- and I want to pour that joy into the lives of everyone around me. I want to create community. I want to be a voice for change.

A few years ago, Katharine's Mom sent me a blown glass ornament. In order to make a blown glass ornament you have to take a bunch of glass and smash it all into tiny pieces. Then you take all the pieces and hold them in the fire. She told me that this is how our lives can feel sometimes- something excruciating happens- and we are left in a million pieces. And then you think the worse is over, but it's not- because things heat up and you're thrown in the fire. But the thing is- when the glass is in the fire- this is where the magic happens. This is where all the random pieces that didn't make sense before begin to meld together- this is where the shift happens. A beautiful blown glass ornament is proof that all those tiny shards of glass- all those painful situations and experiences in our lives- can actually bind together to make something extraordinary.

By no means am I one of those people that say things happen for a reason. I actually don't believe that. But I do think that it is natural for humanity to search for meaning in the things that break us open. And I think that if you can find that meaning, and hold on to it, and learn to find beauty in it, it can catapult you into a new way of seeing your world; a new way of living your life.

So today, while I am sitting with my own pain, I want to turn the table around and ask you all the things I am asking myself. 

What are you allowing to harden you? What are you allowing to open you?

Who are you surrounding yourself with? How do they add value to your life?

What about your pain? Are you learning how to sit with it? The pain will hollow you, but it will not end you. The deeper your pain, the greater your capacity to love bigger, harder, stronger. This sound so cliché but it's not- I'm telling you with every fibre of my being THIS IS TRUE.

Where is your focus? Do you want to live meaningfully? If so- How?

 

I want to thank you so much for reading what has been on my heart, for allowing me to share my story freely. If you too are moving through grief, or remembering the anniversary of something that is painful I want you to know that you are supported and loved and strong.

 

xo C.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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