I’ve been dealing with a migraine-like syndrome for years and just realized recently what actually causes it: a sense of inadequacy.
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When I was about 8 months pregnant, I had a scary realization: I realized that I would be fundamentally alone in the process of giving birth to my daughter.
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Last Spring I took a vacation with my family in the desert of southern California. By mid-March, most of us living in the Pacific Northwest are at our wits' end with the grey, the cold, and the relentless rain. Migrating to where it's hot and sunny for a week felt a little like a pilgrimage: we took a journey into the desert, seeking rest and renewal.
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I had a baby on March 22nd. Since then, life has been blissfully blurry - visits from loved ones, learning how to be a parent to a little person, and a depth of feeling that I can’t really talk about because it’s beyond words.
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This morning before I sat down to write, I was feeling stressed out because I got off to a late start and don't have as much time to write as I normally do. "What will I write about in such little time?!," I wondered. "I have to get this done ASAP so I can make those website updates today!," I thought.
Then, a sweet little ping of inspiration hit me: I can have fun with this.
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When I was a senior in college, my world came crashing down. Over the course of one panic-attack filled weekend, I had what those in the Christian community call "a crisis of faith." For seven years after that weekend, I rejected anything that felt remotely spiritual. I couldn't walk into a church without feeling a knot in my stomach, I felt angry anytime someone used the word "God," and I thought Richard Dawkins was the shit.
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