A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Ascension

As a thirty-five-year-old mother of four I don’t live an exciting life. Oh, trust me, I’m not complaining! I enjoy sticking close to home, nurturing my kids and houseplants, slow-cooking stews for dinner, shooing away the cat from my desk, and writing kinky paranormal romance. And, of course, my partner and I slip to the park for a stroll when home gets too claustrophobic. I wish I could say my seclusion was strictly pandemic related, but the truth is...

Last year made me realize my homebody act has endured for years, and that’s maybe sorta definitely at odds with positivity. It’s the opposite of a flex.

As much as I prefer staying home, tucked away from the world, these are times where all of us must find the value and beauty in community. I am unleashing my vulnerability to show you why I’m ringing in 2021 with the Self-Love + Sex + Magic movement.

While I was writing LEAD ME ASTRAY, my family and I went through some hard knocks. (I wrote about our homelessness after my book won the 2019 Watty's to encourage other struggling writers.) Just as life seemed ready to stabilize, 2020 hit. However, the hurdles life throws our way is conditioning. Strength training. As a result, the pandemic hasn't been as unsettling for me as I feared it would be.

Everyone in my household has thrived in ways we weren't able to previously. Depression tiptoed away. Hobbies peeped in. Laughter started making a regular appearance. I wrote less. I home schooled and giggled, baked and cooked, planted and nurtured.

In this environment my daughter took an interest in tarot and the zodiac, which became wonderful outlets for her burgeoning talents as a spiritualist. I should say I have always been the abject skeptic, the person who debates religion with science and the one least likely to offer “thoughts and prayers.” However, I found something invigorating in the crystals she collected and the history of medieval astrology. (Okay, I admit I’m enjoying every minute of it now.)

Throughout the pandemic, I have examined in a detached way how isolation has not had the effect on me it has on others. I know I am privileged. I have children and a partner in my home, so I was never truly alone or in complete isolation. I empathize and value the experience of those who endured much lonelier lockdowns.

But in my introspection, I confronted the possibility I have been hiding my resilience because I didn’t want people to see my vulnerability.

And I finally made strides to step into my power. The same daughter who encouraged me to write LEAD ME ASTRAY, introduced me to the Hawaiian concept of Ho'oponopono. I applied it to myself and my relationships. I don’t want to lie to you. Saying, “I’m sorry / Please forgive me / Thank you / I love you,” did not cure all my life’s ills. Be that as it may, I did start to feel better. My home became more harmonious. Instead of living stoically, I think my whole collective started living more mindfully.

I carried out this practice through the final six months of 2020. How often do we inwardly berate ourselves? How rare is it to tell ourselves something kind? Self-love is the key to restoring your faith in humanity. It begins with you.

Now, I want to share my journey. Let’s learn and model better self-care together.* The Self-Love + Sex + Magic movement is a series of empowering blog posts, videos, and online events where we will discuss:

• Being present in the here and now

• Processing and releasing emotions, even the tough ones

• Building empathy, but with boundaries

• Transforming self-preservation into the will to thrive

• And much more

I expect this journey to offer new hurdles and new strength training for me as I step from my comfort zone and make new friends, but there is nowhere else I would rather be than (tucked in safe at home) online with you, my readers and followers. Before we get started, how would you like to practice self-care this year? Leave a comment below, and please like and share this blog post using the handy social icons below.

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*This casual online movement is not meant to diagnose or cure any disorder. For serious mental health concerns, please consult a healthcare professional. If you feel you are in a crisis, contact emergency services immediately.

Is This Thing On?

Happy New Year!

I know, the future isn’t what it used to be. Coronavirus rages on. Maybe the vaccine gives us a light at the end of the tunnel. However, with the chess table of life flipped, our choicest maneuvers and best laid plans have been disrupted.

Some of us, blessed with the gift of adaptation, are finding ways to course-correct. Others are lying in wait for better opportunities. Few would call what we just went through a productive year. And regardless of what LLC Twitter and Entrepreneur IG suggest, no one expects miracles in this economy. The right way forward is however you are managing.

I choose to celebrate being present, though a bit diminished. Covid-19 forced a reckoning for me. I left my dream house in Alabama to care for family in Baton Rouge. I am happy to be home. Yet, a big move is costly in the best of times. In these trying times, assets have been removed from my professional life that I would have preferred to keep, and expenses added to my personal life that I would have preferred to avoid.

I finally had to ask myself, “Am I capable of putting in my best effort if I’m burnt out, broke, and depressed?” Admittedly, a blunt performance assessment is long overdue because I have been enduring those adjectives far longer than 2020--juggling writing, promoting, parenting, and homeschooling since 2016.

All work and no play makes me a very unhealthy girl. Actually, one in a very unhealthy three-hundred-twenty-eight million, give or take. In this achievement-oriented nation, folks are simply expected to balance home and work life. Never mind that it comes at the expense of ourselves. As soon as we figured last year wouldn’t be business as usual, most of us rolled up our sleeves for second helpings of sacrifices.

I want to pivot to how 2020 offered surprising bright spots, but there’s no avoiding the truth: We did sacrifice. A lot. Lives and livelihoods were lost. Indignities were suffered. Even as we enter 2021, the collective remains under intense pressure, challenging everyone to evolve. Recovery refuses to be a smooth transition. Instead, the scars of the past twelve months will probably mark us emotionally and physically for the remainder of our existence.

Yet, there were bright spots, like the year-end celestial event that gave us something to talk about other than the virus. The greatest Will They or Won’t They relationship in the cosmos reached its zenith when Saturn and Jupiter finally kissed. Take that as an omen that with patience and auspicious timing, magic happens. (By the way, did you get your superpowers?)

Despite the uncertainty of the coming days, here is my New Year’s resolution. I resolve to model radical self-love. Why? Because self-love is a skill as vital as emotional intelligence. By mastering self-love, we unlock reserves of resilience, perseverance, and contentment. We learn to treat others equitably as we discover they are merely our reflections, teaching us to treat ourselves better. Our relationships improve, and our goals broaden as we discover what we truly deserve in life.

It is not selfish. It is self-full. Putting yourself first gives you the energy to be there for your family, friends, and colleagues when they need you. This is the key to healing, acknowledging our collective bereavement. We must tend to ourselves.

What will executing my resolution look like? It will look like programming kinder words into me, especially as a writer, even when the success story takes a while to manifest. I will work harder at taking it easier. I will use my platform to encourage positive introspection and to voice my gratitude to the people I meet along the way. Normalize open, honest appreciation. I will build on what I learned through lockdowns and/or lack thereof--that solitude is the soil in which self-acceptance germinates.

Though sometimes lonely, none of us is required to explore this secret inner garden alone. Let’s get serious about building our tribe in 2021. You and your friends are welcome to join my Self-Love + Sex + Magic movement. Help it grow by following me, engaging with my content on social media, and sharing what resonates. Each week, we’ll set new intentions on Twitter and Instagram using the #SLSM2021 tag. Group chats and meditation events will be announced later in the year.

I am also planning my biggest venture yet, the Self-Love + Sex + Magic VirtualCon. Three days of philautia, erotica, and a dash of alchemy. For full details on how to participate in the VirtualCon as a host or a guest, please click here. Also, sign-up for my quarterly newsletter to get regular updates on the most happening movement of the decade.

If interactive online meet-ups aren’t your thing, get cozy with my free and Paid Stories on Wattpad, bylines in literary magazines, new Patreon account coming March 2021, and much more. I definitely recommend adding LEAD ME ASTRAY to your Goodreads TBR. Reviewers are saying nice things about it.

So, the future isn’t what it used to be, but if you think about it… it never was anything. Here and now are the only constants. With each passing moment, our existence makes us confront temporality. Still, there is magic in living, dying, and being reborn. Acceptance of this cycle leads to profound self-love. I want to explore that with you. I want to meet you in the space between never more and not yet and see what else we can get away with. Are you ready?

#GetAwayWithIt

P.S. Congratulations to the Wattys 2020 winners, especially my dear friend Domi Sotto! May you have many more wins as you go!

Blast From the Past: My Life 4 Years Ago

Wrapping up this month's Wattpad Contest Season Crash Course, I decided to share a blast from my past. After writing for nearly fifteen years, I'm happy to report the hard work is finally paying off with my Watty award-winning book, LEAD ME ASTRAY. As I look ahead at a brighter future than I ever thought possible, I reflect on how far I've come.

Now, the kids are older, but the work is about the same. However, the rewards make it all worthwhile.

"Mom’s a Writer"

What’s it like writing with kids in the house? Interesting. Every day I wonder if they’ll throw a coup and overrun my benevolent dictatorship. I am, after all, dividing my time between taking over the world and raising them to be world-class citizens. It’s a lot of work for one parent.

My kids used to get a kick out of the fact I’m a writer, but then they learned to hate it. J.K. Rowlings, with her rock star self, might be a glamorous household name, but me? Well, I’m just the chick in the PJ's, growling over the computer. It boils down to “boring stuff” for my twelve-, eleven- and ten-year-olds and downright “poopy head-stuff” for my three year-old.I’ve made writing as interesting as possible for them by creating some kid-sized author tools for them to write along with me. (And, I’m putting them here so you can get a load of them, too.) That helps.

Keeping them busy while I’m busy means nobody gets their head yelled off. I need mine for writing, and theirs are so cute that I don’t want to do that to them. Now, for those of you out there who double as a parent and a full-time writer, you know it’s almost impossible to separate what you do from who you are, and that means something’s bound to get half-done. Hopefully, it’s the outline and not dinner.

So, in order to not be a neglectful mommy, I have to work according to a “strict” schedule. Here’s what my day is supposed to look like:

7:00 a.m. – Kids off to school. Eat a healthy breakfast.

7:30 a.m. – Check emails, do some social media promoting.

8:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. – Get to work. Outlines are mapped out or consulted if already done, and word count goals are set. I try to do a free-write for a few hours, then a rough edit for a few hours. I’m flexible about the timing of each.

12:00 p.m. to 2:00 p.m. – Spend some time with my toddler. Feeding her is kind of important, too.

2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. – Creating marketing tools and disseminating information about my books. What it actually looks like is a lot of tugging my three-year-old off my back from one sentence to the next.

The bottom line is, being a writer and a mom is tough just like any other job. I wrote Jonquillewhile listening to Wonder Pets in the background and in between cheerleader practice and open house conferences. You know what I learned in the process? My limitations. I might not be able to pound out ten thousand words every day, but being present for my family is much more important than being the most prolific writer ever.

I also learned my strengths, and that was just as important of a lesson. I’m flexible. I can write anywhere. Cheerleader practice, open house meetings, long drives or mid-tantrum. I consider it a superpower.“My mom’s a writer,” my son said to a person sitting next to us last week at the dentist’s office. He said it like I was a rock star. The kids dig it. I’m cool. So, we’re cool.