If you find yourself in the heavy

Here's a weighted blanket made of velvet ❤️‍🔥

Hello everyone! How are you doing out there? I’ve somehow been more or less successful at avoiding my seasonal Scrooginess this year and though I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to the holidays, I’ll take it as a win that I’m not dreading them either. Neutral! I’ll take neutral.

Last week I wrapped up the first part of a yearlong professional coaching training I’m participating in through New Ventures West. Sunday night after we finished I was laying on my couch staring at the ceiling, basking in expectations blown through the stratosphere. Plugged into the cosmic motherboard, I imagined a spaceship whisking me away to outer space where I might have a little chitty-chat with god.

Let me acknowledge that this is some weird sounding shit. It’s also true that I have felt so tender ever since: Tender toward myself, tender toward my people, tender toward humanity. I know it’s not an easy time of year nor an easy time (gestures haphazardly) in general and I want you to know that however you and I engage—whether it’s your eyes on my words; your attendance at a workshop or in our community; you and I developing a coaching relationship, I’m so grateful, and I see you and I’m here.

Below, you’ll find lots of ways to be together. In particular, I invite you into coaching. I have three 1:1 spots remaining in January, and EVOLVE is coalescing into a sincerely special group. It would be my honor to be with you and support you.

🪐

✍🏽 THIS SUNDAY! December Writing Workshop: Grab your spot here (Sunday, December 18, 10am - 12pm PST). This is our last workshop of 2022 and I hope to see you! TWO spots left <3

💖 Ritual and Reflection: A Winter Solstice Workshop. Overjoyed to again be in collaboration with Anne Marie Cribbin for this very special end-of-year wind down. You'll have the opportunity to both reflect on 2022 as well as be guided through a process to discover your "word" for 2023. Sliding scale! Register here.

🤝 1:1 COACHING: Sign up for an Alignment Session.

Three spots open for January! Schedule an Alignment Session with Dani.

🤘Join EVOLVE - a 12-week online course, community, and coaching program. This is a hybrid group and individual coaching program that kicks off on January 9th, 2023. To learn more click here, and check out the obligation-free application here.

🫶🏽 Join us in community! If you've been considering joining, I invite you to click the button 👇🏽 below to subscribe to our SELF MADE community and/or you can read more about what we’re up to here. Membership is $30/month and you have full say over your subscription and there is SO MUCH GOOD STUFF. Check us out.

❓Questions? Ask. I’m here and I’d love to hear from you.

---

Photo by Ante Hamersmit on Unsplash

For L.

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.

Antonio Machado

🪐

When you’re underneath the heavy, it’s hard to focus on anything else.

This can feel especially shitty during a time of year when you’re expected to get into some kind of spirit: To be shiny and bright; to socialize more than usual; to show up wearing ugly sweaters and full of resolve for the year ahead.

But you’re no longer in the business of pretending. You’ve spent enough time chasing shiny and bright. And when you stop chasing. When you learn to be with what is, instead of running/avoiding/numbing, the heavy is inevitably going to catch up.

So let’s be with what is for a minute. You don’t have to “welcome” the heavy. But you can’t ignore it, either. I mean, you can—and I’m guessing that many of you reading this newsletter are well-versed in your own unique slew of tactics that helped keep your version of the heavy at bay—but you also understand, or are beginning to suspect, that at some point this will be something you’ll need to learn to be with.

So let’s be with the heavy together.

The thing with the heavy is that when we fight the heavy, it gets heavier. We find ourselves underneath the heavy and we believe that something is wrong. We believe the heavy is an indication that we have gone off track. But another thing about the heavy is that being with it is a requirement. The heavy is terrible and awful but it is also natural and normal. We can avoid the heavy, or at least, pretend to avoid it, by retreating to the things we know will numb or anesthetize us from our pain. This approach works for a while—until it doesn’t—and as we begin the work of unhooking ourselves from the numbing agents; as we develop curiosity around what that might be like; and as we get more practiced in causing ourselves increasingly less harm, we begin to understand that of course the heavy will come for us.

The way to make it through the heavy is not by fighting it, hyper-focusing on it, or comparing our version of it to our perception of others’ versions. Our job when we are underneath the heavy is not to fix or rush the heavy but to use the time to turn tenderness inward. To care for skin, muscles, bones. To rest as much as we can. To make tea and light candles and wrap ourselves in the blanket and to sit in the comfy chair and to place our hands on our hearts and refer to ourselves as “mi amor;” or if that sentiment makes you want to hork out your guts, maybe you imagine what you might say if the person you most loved in the world let you in on their heavy, and then you imagine what it might be like, one day, to extend such grace and care to your own self.

We make it through the heavy by letting our ~safe~ people bear witness. We let people see us in our heavy and we push back on the narrative that our heavy is burdensome. When we share our heavy it is a gift and a blessing, beautiful because it is true, and because its gravitational pull is an opportunity to stay close to the bone of life, which, like it or not, is where we live now. We allow ourselves to be seen, to be held, because we are also learning that there will come a day when we will be the ones doing the seeing and holding, because, well, the heavy is nothing if not an equal opportunity motherfucker.

Finally: I would go as far to say that the heavy is actually an indication that we are right on track. As we learn to be with the heavy, we keep an antenna on the lookout for what I call lanterns on the path. These are moments of beauty, connection, goodness and joy that show up in humble fashion—an unexpected kindness from a stranger, say, or a message or note that delivers just what we need to hear most “out of nowhere,” or maybe some interaction with the natural world that snaps us into a grander perspective—that we can follow, breadcrumb-like, toward wherever the hell we’re going. Nosing our way forward, probably far slower than we’d like, we get to some other side. We keep showing up. We forgive ourselves our messiness. We trust that grace is on the way.

And this is where I want to live, always, for I am no longer afraid of my heavy, nor of yours. I know when the familiar weight lays itself over me, which it does, which it will continue to do from time to time until the end of my time, that I can be with what is. That I know how to shepherd myself to a softer patch of grass. That I don’t beat myself up on my way there there; instead, I tend, I nourish, I nudge my way along.

🪐

This was a big week, in a number of ways, and part of the reason why it was a big week was because I discovered that this creature exists:

The 'Skeletonizer' Caterpillar Wears a Hat of Old Skulls to Ward off Predators

On its way to becoming a moth, this “skeletonizer” (!) caterpillar molts five or six times. Each time, instead of casting off its exoskeleton, it collects the head and, as you can see, stacks them up into a gloriously macabre little crown.

The metaphors! They write themselves.

In the words of the scientist interviewed for the article: “Wearing heads is a real benefit to the caterpillar…lots of people think it's a pretty metal way to go about life."

As someone who views recovery as a metal-as-fuck undertaking, I’m guessing it is no surprise to any of you that I’ve been legit obsessed with this freaky-ass beast all week and that it’s unofficially the new SELF MADE mascot.

So here’s how I’ll leave you:

Forget the actual metamorphosis. Here we are, tiny creatures creating crowns from our past selves, adorning ourselves in the fruits of the heavy. Stacking up a formidable adornment, fending off future demons. Seeking out community of fellow skeletonizers 🤘🏾. Tending to white combs of sweet honey from our old failures, the bright wax of the heavy lighting the way through the dark.

---

SELF MADE is a rebellious recovery community that empowers you to liberate yourself from societal programming and boldly step into a life of your design. Posts are written by me, Dani Cirignano, founder, writer, Integral coach, and recovery advocate based in San Francisco, CA. 

Click here to learn about working with me 1:1. Check out the “About” page for more information about our online community and click any of the “Subscribe Now” buttons to become a subscriber👇🏽

You can also support this work by pressing the little heart button on these posts, sharing this newsletter with others, and letting me know how this newsletter helps you. 

Thank you.