I currently feel like a shell of a person. I have been homeschooling my children for six months and taking our time acclimating to our new rhythm. We’re good. They’re good. They’re currently playing in the forest behind our house with some other friends that also homeschool in our neighborhood. It’s a dream, right? And yet, I still find myself in this loop —
Who needs me? When are they going to need me? What else am I suppose to be doing?
I should workout. I’m too tired. What about my business? Should I do something with it?
{does nothing. scrolls Instagram}
This all sounds so sad and dramatic, though. Like I must start this story off with something really pathetic to reel you in. It’s not like this and yet, that is exactly how I am feeling in this exact moment.
Zoom out.
If we’ve yet to meet in any capacity, I’m Brook. Mom of two, wife of one. I’m a former therapist, coach, and entrepreneur. I spent most of my 20’s simultaneously becoming everything society asked me to be and partying the feelings of insecurity and misalignment away. I was great on the outside, and dreadfully lonely on the inside.
In my 30’s I finished grad school, opened my own business, got married, bought a house, had some kids, and burnt myself out from the hustle of it all. I walked away. I collapsed. I went through the existential crisis or dark night of the soul. I lit sage and meditated and pulled cards and read anything that I could devour on spiritual healing. I encountered a truth and a knowing within me so powerful, it literally shook the core of who I was, creating a Kali size earthquake of any and every BS story that ever took up space in my body. I literally knew a truth of the divine feminine before everyone started talking divine feminine. And that knowing corrupted anything I ever thought I knew about God(dess), leadership, motherhood, purpose, Mother Earth, and so much more.
I fell in love with Human Design and Astrology as tools to help carve the pathways for realignment. I discovered, no, uncovered (I always knew it was there, but simply didn’t trust it) my well of healing powers and psychic energy for our emotional body. I met myself over and over again — an Egyptian priestess, a celtic witch, a Mayan midwife all locked up inside my soul. All with her own magic… and trauma.
I healed. I healed. I healed. I healed.
And then I healed others. Or rather, they healed themselves. I simply held the torch that lit the way. And that relationship is one of the most beautiful. A reunion of sisters. Another woman reclaiming her truth and her power. And that energy pulses out. I love it. I do.
But…
Inside I was simultaneously receiving another calling. To bring my children home. I’m sure I’ll share much more in future stories on this decision, but today, this story is about me. To bring my babies home. To reclaim and restore the truth of who they are and allow that to grow as organically as their bodies. How little I knew about the depth that this would actually be — all that is reclaimed along the way — play, childhood, adventure, connection, spirit…
This decision came with a knowing that my work in this world wouldn’t look the same. My time wouldn’t be the same. My ability, but really, my desire to hold space for my children and my clients each and every day could not co-exist.
And all of that has been ok. I don’t mean ‘ok’ in a complacent way; I mean that it has wriggled a sense of peace in my soul that every inhalation is balanced with the exhalation. (can you see the Libra in my chart??) We are OK in this beautiful, stable and forward-moving way.
So here we are. Back to present day. It’s mid-afternoon in mid-Fall and the sun is already beginning to set. I’m typing on my back patio, listening to the work and thrills and negotiations coming from the forest. I have checked off about a million to-do list boxes over the past week (the death of a human design Manifestor). I have contemplated and gone through a proper number of emotional waves from my meditations of last week’s new moon (emotional authority, here!) and I fully acknowledge that this soul-suck, shell of a human feeling that I am experiencing is simply empty space.
It’s the space that used to be filled with doubt and insecurity and hustle. It’s the open terrain that is now healed and reserved for the work that my soul is called to put into this world. The space that has been saved for writing. Writing my story, my process, my doubts and achievements.
So here we are. Chapter 1. Post 1. Doing the thing that is my deepest yearning in the world — write, speak, hold retreats, just be me instead of curating me.
And wouldn’t you know it — the itchy stuckness that was here an hour ago has now dissolved.
