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Motherhood is teaching me sweet sweet surrender in every moment. What a lesson in impermanence. Where there is growth, there is letting go while trying to hold on.

Motherhood is teaching me surrender. Everyday as my daughter grows, transforms, and changes instantly, I am faced with impermanence. The sacred lesson of the divine feminine is that of surrender. As women, we learn the subtleties of letting go when we give birth, love, raise children, and as our bodies transform with every cycle of the moon. We intimately know the workings of the divine feminine.

Indira has taught me surrender. She’s the greatest teacher as every child is. My daughter’s condition Tuberous Sclerosis Complex has also taught me surrender. Honestly, it would be easy for me to worry every minute of the day about Indira– worry if she is going to have a seizure, or suddenly regress, or start to have behavioral issues, or grow skin lesions on her beautiful face, or be diagnosed with Autism. Yes, that is all possible. I worry she will have a seizure in the middle of the night, or when I am not near her. It’s part of being her mother and a mother. You worry. You cry. You laugh. You practice patience. You let go of trying to control. I surrender to the moment. The moments that are incredible, beautiful, and sweet as well as completely uncomfortable and incredibly challenging.

I feel so deeply that when we allow ourselves to surrender we create space for the present moment to unfold. We allow it to be all that it can be and possibly more.

P.S. Today, I am grateful and feel blessed that my daughter is miraculously beating all the odds. She’s doing well, and is seizure free. She’s smart and engaged in all of life. She’s happy.  I’ll pray for that daily. Blessed be.

Motherhood Initiation


As women we are initiated at a young age to our womanhood and begin our connection to the sacred feminine. We grow into each phase constantly transforming our femininity with a quiet flow of shakti that we come to embody.

Motherhood is an initiation into our sacred role where we align with all mothers.

Initiations can bring great transformation, heartache, joy, and at times can break you down until you become the essence and embody your truest nature.

Almost, one year ago, I was faced with my greatest challenge as a new mother. My daughter’s diagnosis of Tuberous Sclerosis Complex (TSC) was heart breaking, and quietly broke me as I surrendered. I was initiated into being her mother. Clearly, she was asking me, “Are you up to the task? Are you able? Are you ready? I have chosen you!” I said, “Absolutely” without knowing what that meant at all, and I still don’t.

 Initiations are opportunities to step into a place of surrender, growth, graceful alignment, and embodiment.

Today, my daughter is a miracle. She is seizure free, and is developing normally. I have read awful accounts of children suffering with TSC that have many seizures per day with tumors throughout their body, and a host of other complications. No parent is every prepared for an incredibly difficult diagnosis, and neither were we. I will tell you that some days are harder than others. Yet, everyday I can say that I am blessed with a tremendous little girl who is very happy to be in this world. Everyday, I am grateful because by some grace of goddess, my daughter is doing well. Everyday counts–every single day.

May your journey be blessed with peace.

The Reminders

sf sunsetApproximately six-months ago we were facing our deepest fears as our 7-month old daughter was being admitted to the hospital. We had no idea what was going to happen. We were scared, bewildered, and traumatized. And, when we received a diagnosis we didn’t understand and only heard the words “rare genetic condition” and “tumors” you can imagine our shock and trauma.

Trauma leaves a reminder. A reminder that rests in you until you can find a way to face and heal that trauma. Some traumatic experiences we may not heal in this lifetime; however, we can begin to unravel and evolve from them.

The reminders for me appear in an empty crib my daughter refuses to sleep in due to her own trauma, the emergency seizure medicine in my purse, the bi-monthly appointments with a development specialist, her ash leaf marks (white skin pigmentation), the supplements, the actual thought that she has benign tumors in her brain, the neurologist appointments, and the yearly MRIs she must endure. For some parents of children with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex they face daily complications like regular seizures, autism, developmental delay, and behavioral issues.

I write this post for everyone that has experienced trauma and other parents in similar situations. My daughter’s diagnosis still remains as a trauma I can’t deny or forget. I have begun to scratch the surface of facing my trauma, and this begins the healing process. I thought that I wouldn’t ever actually write this post. Healing is a private journey and process for many, including myself. The challenge here is that no one can do this healing for you. You have to heal your own trauma. Of course, if it’s too daunting seeking support is best. Honestly, I didn’t want to face the fact that I haven’t even begun to heal and need more time.

Trauma has a way of keeping you in a place of continual fear, and fight or flight. We want so deeply to heal and to completely erase it from our being and memory.

What if we had the ability to transform and evolve from our trauma? What if we became empowered from these very challenging, and traumatic experiences instead of hiding out or feeling victimized by them? I know it’s possible. 

I have watched my daughter at 15-months transform her condition from something potentially debilitating to becoming a healthy, determined, manifesting fire-child. She is making progress daily. Every day that she does well and continues to demonstrate progress, I am grateful, heal a little bit more, and have unwavering faith that my daughter will thrive. She keeps me in grace and in believing that miracles are possible.

Divine Irony

Now, I am at the other side of the table signing paper work, discussing a plan, progress, and goals. How did this happen? Nervously, I laugh and say to the Development Specialist, “I didn’t think I would ever be on this side of things. I used to be the one doing all of the paperwork.” I used to be a special eduction teacher, and now I am the parent of a child that has the potential for developing a developmental delay due to her medical condition (Tuberous Sclerosis). How did this exactly happen? I call this divine irony. I did not know when I signed up to be a special education teacher years ago that all of my skills, training, and experience would lead me to my own kitchen table working with my own daughter.

Honestly, it was the most challenging meeting to be in because this time I was on the other side. I was the parent full of questions, fears, what ifs, contemplating unknowns, and wondering will my child be okay. We are walking directly into the unknown. I deeply know it’s going to be okay, and that she will grow and thrive as best she possibly can. Yet, reality has a way of reminding you to be present. No checking out here–only checking-IN.

I am sitting with divine irony. Divine irony is an unexpected lesson we didn’t foresee coming. We make choices, and take steps in a direction and yet we never truly know where exactly it will lead. I now have one student, and she is my greatest teacher, my heart, and the most precious.

I write this for every parent. Every parent that trusts, loves, supports, and knows the potential of their child. We have to stay strong, courageous, full of conviction, and have faith for our children.