I love sea glass.
There’s something about the soft-edges of weathered, broken bottles, ushered to shore by the waves that deliver it to me, that makes me feel smooth and special on the inside. It’s a treasure. And sea glass is never the same shape. It’s got funky bits and chunks that just feel good in your hand and make you want to tuck it deep down in your pocket so it won’t get away. And the muted tones are one of my favorite parts, because they remind me of some of my beloved kaleidoscope experiences as a child.
I luh-ove kaleidoscopes.
This is my new sea glass jar >>>
It looks pretty empty right now and when I see it sitting on the counter, it’s tempting to want to kind of apologize to people and explain that it will be eye-catchingly beautiful one day but right now, it’s in process.
And my health journey I’ve walked through.
More than 20 years ago, my health journey jar seemed pretty empty and all I wanted was it to be full.
Full of answers as to why my hair was falling out, why I had skin issues all over my face and hands, why my weight was skyrocketing off the charts, day-after-day.
I wanted to know why the foods that used to be fine were now giving me stomach aches, palpitations, and rashes. And why I couldn’t get out of bed, no matter how long I slept. And why I was so terribly anxious, that there were many days when I couldn’t even leave the house.
I wanted to know when I would get my body
And my libido
And my sense of humor back.
I wanted to know when I could go out with friends again
Or drink wine again
Or just feel like me again.
My jar was empty.
And I wanted it full.
I want it to not feel like some half-empty thing that I had to apologize for…
For not having energy
Or good moods
Or ease with foods when we ate out.
I wanted it
To be beautiful again.
But, this morning as I was walking on the beach, I realized that searching for sea glass has been like my journey of health and healing.
That as I was walking along looking for it, some days I found some really big pieces that felt satisfying with answers like a diagnosis (Hashimoto’s) and proper medication, and the powerful work of yoga and meditation.
And some days were the small pieces that add up — like knowing what foods don’t work (gluten and dairy, nightshades, and nuts)
The supplements that my body loved (like B12 and D3 and Selenium)
And the relationships that needed to be released so that I could lighten my toxic emotional load.
Those little bits of information that happened along a 20 plus year journey were the ones that I put into my jar.
And then there were days that felt like all walking and no pretty sea glass:
When the doctors were impatient and telling me it was all in my head. (Tell me again how the hives on my face are all in my head?)
When my spouse turned to me and said, “I just want my wife back.” (Yeah, no duh. Me, too…)
And my family members misjudged me, telling me I was just making it up to get attention. (I’m still trying to figure out how I “made up” gaining 100 pounds in less than a year and pretty sure that having an ass the broad side of a barn wasn’t on my list of ‘favorite ways to get attention.’)
That’s when it felt like there was nothing but a long, searching, bent-over, back-breaking walk in the hot sun, and going home empty-handed.
Those days felt horrible and hopeless.
But here’s the thing:
If I had a health jar on my counter all these years later, I would see what it is: Full of incredible wisdom and healing truths. Full of answers and research from conferences I attended all over the country and conversations I’ve had with specialists all over the world.
All of those seemingly little things: The foods, the remedies, the supplements, the recipes, the holistic protocols, the people…
They have become my gorgeous collection of treasures I have found along the way.
When you look at my life, my family, my health, my peace, and my spirituality — you see this colorful expression of healing that has been gathered over the last two decades.
I am full.
And when people ask me about my health, I pull out the individual pieces and share the backstory of how I found it and how it can help them too.
This is not just a collecting jar. It’s a giving jar. And a healing jar.
It’s not just my health. It’s my story and it means something that it happened piece-by-piece over time, because I value it differently — and I impart the information with respect and reverence to others because I know it’s not just been a physical healing journey,
It’s been a spiritual one.
To trust that everything happens in right timing.
To remember that I need to show up with my willingness to
Know what I need to know,
Grow where I need to grow,
And let go of what I need to let go.
And that in sharing it with others, it makes their pain shorter and my pain even more worth having gone through.
So. Freakin’. Valuable.
So, when I look at my near empty sea glass jar on my bookcase, I don’t apologize for it and I don’t feel pressure to fill it. I know it happens a little bit along the way and that if I just keep going, little-by-little, step-by-step, I will find what I’m looking for
And in the end,
It will be beautiful.
So much love,
Tips for collecting your health:
– Have a health journey where you record your insights of what works and what doesn’t. Keep track of it with dates and how that thing you ate, took, or did affected you in any way. It’s easy to have things fade into the recesses of our mind so, write it down!
– Have a gratitude jar or journal for those seemingly small encounters with wisdom, people or remedies that came your way out of seemingly nowhere, which I call “Godwhere”. (And definitely read in my book about the chatty woman I met at Disneyland who gave me the answer to my crazy, orange tongue symptom!)
– Take on those new healing practices – at least one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one in the evening to keep the reminder that YOU are the most powerful healer in your life by taking action on what you know is good for you.
For more amazingly helpful tips and stories that inspire you, pick up my award-winning book written just for you: You’re Not Crazy and You’re Not Alone.