top of page

Hi friends!


I hope you all are doing well! I realized the other day that my neurodivergence showed up in the fact of... not showing up (i.e. not blogging since August- ope!). Here I am again.


I had a thought the other day (shocker) and decided it was something we needed to talk about. I go on walks for 30-45 minutes pretty much daily. It was something I started a little over two months ago, and now it's become a need. Yesterday, I took a walk in 35 degree weather, which, in Oklahoma, is brutal with the wind. I had bundled up, put on my hype workout playlist, and as I was walking, I remember thinking, 'Ahh, this isn't so bad...' until... gulp, I turned the corner and I was headed straight into the wind. I kept thinking to myself, "Well, this is a good metaphor for life. Sometimes, you're moving against the wind, and sometimes it's pushing you forward." See the photo below where I realized my mistake, but it was already too late. I was out there, and the walk had begun and I needed to persevere to the finish line.



It reminded me of an old Irish blessing, where the writer wishes for all manner of goodness and fortune towards the person they are blessing.


"May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of his hand." - An Irish Blessing


Here's the kicker though: the wind can't always be at your back. Life just doesn't happen that way. In fact, if you live long enough, you'll have many times/years where you feel like you're walking straight into the wind. And the wind in these instances is icy, and there's a cold rain mixed in, and you're certain you've never been more miserable in your life.


All we are is just running against the wind. (Quick, name that song!) If you keep going, eventually, you will turn a corner, and the wind will be at your back again. Sometimes, as therapists, all we're doing is encouraging you that these gusty gales in your personal life can't last forever. You will turn a corner, get a new job, move on from that relationship, stop crying every time you hear that song, cease waking up in the middle of the night screaming, etc. It will happen. But your therapist has to be stalwart and steady throughout this process. They have to remind you that good times come and go, and bad times come and go. And we endure them both.


Here's your reminder: the wind will be at your back someday, and you will be grateful for the grit these experiences gave you, just as I was grateful for the wind pushing me forward during my daily jaunt. Keep going, moving, pushing, even with tears streaming down your face, even with snot running out of your nostrils, even when you think you can't do it much longer. Keep going.


Take exquisite care of yourself,


Megan

Hi friends!


I hope you are well. Over here, at my house, we are... not well. We are unwell, as it were. Ill, infected, we have the plague (okay, not really, but doesn't a bout of diphtheria sound more impressive than the common cold?). I digress. We are sick over here. And it's thrown a wrinkle into my busy, productivity-minded self. In case you didn't know this about me, I struggle to rest. Like, if I'm ill, I worry about all the things that are left undone and I can't simply *relax* and lay down. I do take a weekly nap every Sunday afternoon like clockwork, but that's after church and before I do my Sunday reset of all the chores needed to start the week off right.



So, I am writing this blog to let you know that it's okay to rest, and sometimes our bodies become ill to remind us of this fact. Let's learn to listen to these messages, instead of being disappointed we are sick.


It's okay to rest.

It's okay to pause, before you say something you might regret.

It's okay to reflect, instead of live in regret.

It's okay to move forward and forgive yourself for the ways you fall short.

It's okay to simply be, without striving and struggling for love and acceptance from people who can't give that to themselves, let alone you.


You deserve rejuvenation, and you deserve it more frequently than the quarterly cold you catch in August, November and March. The world needs people who can simply be and recognize their own inherent goodness, without having a checklist of to-dos in order to prove their worth.


This month, take some time to figure out where rest and rejuvenation, pauses and reflection are missing in your life. Add some of those things in, and let some of the busy-ness go. You do enough. You are enough.


Take exquisite care of yourself,



Hi Friends!


I hope summertime is treating you well. I find that this time of year feels both slow and fast, which is an interesting phenomena and probably a great indicator of what it feels like to raise little children and age (two things I'm doing at this point in my life).


Text with 'Your Weird is Welcome Here' with flowers and pink background

Today, I wanted to breach the subject that I think often crosses people's minds when they enter into therapy, which is some variation of the thought: 'How weird can I be in here? Will my therapist 'get' it? What if they think I'm completely nuts?'


I can't speak for every counselor and therapist in the world. However, I can tell you that your worries about your weird, obsessive thoughts are common. Your fears of being 'discovered' as untreatable, unlovable, unlikeable by your therapist are fears all clients carry into the therapy room. Judging your thoughts as bad, shameful, or even sinful, is something I encounter frequently in my office with my clients.


Let me reassure you, in my practice (and in many other therapists' offices as well), your weird is welcome.


I'd like to tell you a 'weird' thing about myself. After my daughter died, I went through a stage where I was obsessed with shipwrecks. I would spend hours reading about sunken boats, and my husband could often find me in the middle of the night scrolling furiously, diving down another rabbit hole of morbid curiosity. It all started with the tragic sinking of the Ducks in Branson in 2018. For whatever strange reason, I was equal parts captivated and horrified by this news story. I read everything I could, and then, this research devolved into studying all sorts of sunken ships. I was a woman possessed.


I spoke about this compulsion to research sunken boats incessantly with colleagues. One friend pointed out the following: 'Your soul was sorting through the deep loss, missing tangible treasure, and overall reconciling of sunken dreams you had for Harper (my daughter) and for parenthood.' This seemed to resonate and comfort me. Her words welcomed the weird in me, and I felt instantly at peace. I didn't need to read another shipwreck story for many years after that.


If you are struggling with bringing your full self to therapy in true sincerity, know this: a good therapist wants to see all of you. They desire to know you at your core, and they will sit with you in your weird for as long as you need until you heal. I hope you find relationships that help you come to your oddest, sincerest, happiest version of self. You deserve this.


Take exquisite care of yourself,



Join the Club

Join my email list if you're interested in reading further or hearing about new opportunities!

Thanks for submitting!

bottom of page