Last week I shared my grief list with you. It was under the title of, "Flags Half Mast." A lovely high school friend informed me that it's Flags Half Staff. Sails are Half Mast. This produced a giggle in me that tickled my sides. This feeling is reminiscent of finding out that a song has different lyrics from what we thought. Sometimes they are dramatically different.

 

Here's a couple of my favorite:

 

One time, John and I were visiting my mom in Tucson. Carol King's, "Your So Vain," came on the radio. All of us were stirred into song. At the top of our lungs we sang, "You're so vain, You probably think this song is about you, don't you, don't you???" At one point, the song builds its rant with, "I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee..." From the back seat, my mother raised her voice and sang with great conviction, "don't you know that there are GROUNDS IN MY COFFEE??? GROUNDS IN MY COFFEE???"

 

As if grounds in my coffee is the biggest affront that could ever happen to anyone in their lifetime. Needless to say, we burst into fits of laughter.

 

I can't tell on my mom without telling on myself too. I've made many lyric foibles in my life but my favorite is, "Rock The Casbah," by The Clash. For more years than I care to admit, what is supposed to be, "Shareef don't like it, Rockin The Casbah, Rockin' The Casbah," I've been singing: "You're really going to like it, Rockin The Cash Bar, Rockin The Cash Bar." The number of times I've belted that out in public is, well, hilarious.

 

Man, I love rockin the cash bar. All around the world, so many good times are had at cash bars.

 

Our latest addition to lyric confusion comes from my oldest daughter. When she was 3, she created her own version of Deck The Halls. Where we once sang, "deck the halls with boughs of holly fa la la la la la la la la," we now sing, "Deck the halls with prison lolly fa la la la la la la la la."

 

None of us know what this means exactly but it makes us laugh.

 

All this laughter has been a soothing tonic for me over the last few days. My spirits are lifting ever so slightly. I hope you are uplifted by the hilarity of it all too. Let's share in the fun. Reply now and tell me your funniest lyrics story. Let's keep these belly laughs rolling!

 

Lots of love,

Kate

​​I have several things on tap to share up with you.

 

As I move through my days, I've noticed that the flags are flying at half mast. Every time I see this, my mind jumps through the same thoughts. My first thought is, "there has been a tragedy." Then I think, "Another one." Then I wonder if there were so many tragedies when I was a child. There very well could have been. I just wasn't aware of it. Then I wonder if the event was on American soil or abroad. Honestly, I've lost track. And I don't track their sources. It's too much for my system to bear. I send out my condolences and a prayer for authentic peace to the air and move on, until I see the next flag hanging at half mast. Thought cycle repeat.

 

I realized this week that I've been half grieving this Fall. This grief has been building to a point that I can no longer ignore it. I'm tipping into full grief.

 

Here's my list:

 

1. The passing of many beautiful souls this year. Old friends, friends' parents, family members that are no longer at our holiday table, old friends and acquaintances who are in the final days of their lives, making the most of their time left on this beautiful blue ball. I take solace in my knowing that they are on their soul's path. But I still grieve their passing.

 

2. The unexpectedness of this year. It has been a good year, yes. But there have been many things that I thought would work out that just didn't. Time marches on. I haven't lost hope by any means. But I am pressed against the jagged edge of reality. I'm being forced to take an honest stock of my life. I'm having to cut a lot of bait that I deeply cared about. For this I grieve.

 

3. The squeeze of my financial situation. Grief. Rage. Grief. Rage. Grief. I'm like a petulant child whining and stomping her feet when she doesn't get what she wants.

 

4. The gap between my vision and my reality. My time is like quick sand under my feet. Every week shifts and churns. Nothing is ever locked in. I manage to get things done, miraculously. But this shifting takes its toll on me. My web site, the keeper of my vision, doesn't match what I want to say. It's missing so much content. It continues to do so. More pressing issues make their way to the surface. This galls me to tears. I grieve.

 

5. I haven't thrown my leg over a horse in five years. I haven't snowboarded in 7. Biking and running are a distant memory. A part of my soul is dry and shriveled like moss in a drought. This part of me isn't dead or dying. It's simply waiting out a dry spell. There's wanting, yes. But she knows the rains will come in time. As long as I don't yank her from her safe haven, she will flourish again.

 

I'm somewhat of a grief newbie. It wasn't until I cracked myself open several months after my grandmother's death in 2012, that I felt deep grief for the first time in my life. Sadness, yes. Grief, not so much. I didn't know what to do with all that emotion at the time. Now, I have some rituals to support me. I give myself full permission to cry, to write in my journal, to rage, to sleep, to go deep into my grief, to let it wear me out so it can teach me what it wants me to know.

 

Why? Because grief is the pathway to moving my flags to full mast. It is the magic pill for preventing and treating emotional and physical numbness.

 

Just as we symbolically honor and recognize our grief as a nation by pulling our flags partway down, I honor and recognize my grief as an individual by pulling my flags partway down. I'm bringing them closer to me, closer to the ground, connecting with them before I set them free to fly.

 

There is something inside of me that wants to rise up. There is an intense flow of creativity brewing that will bring an evolution to my work that I cannot yet see. But I am so weary. So heavy with grief.

 

Am I sad? No.

 

Am I depressed? No.

 

Am I in a funk? Absolutely.

 

Am I without hope? Absolutely Not! (in fact, it's pulsing through my veins).

 

Here's what's happening. I'm on the precipice of living a fully creative life. It's not linear. It's full of chaos. It's a far cry from the normal and "predictable" that I have relied on and clung to as stability in my life to date.

 

I want to set my compass to this wild creative force. Tethered to my precious planet, I want to climb the mast in the high seas as the wind blows my hair around my face and carries my shouts across the air. I want to be weird. I want to be unusual. I want to be okay with saying things that don't make sense but I speak them anyway. I want to smile and laugh and play my way through this creative gauntlet.

 

I'm trading in the question, "how?" In exchange, I'm leap frogging from clue to clue, synchronistic event to synchronistic event. I'm breaking the chains of normal and practical and perfection. I'm cutting down and shaking off the dead wood of the past. I'm bringing in parts of myself that I haven't allowed myself to work with before. They refuse to be kept at bay.

 

For this, I need stability, an anchor. To get hitched with the wild creative, I need to plant my feet in terra firma. What does this mean?

 

1. I want to coach one more person. I want one brave soul that's ready to plant herself in terra firma and get hitched with her creativity.

 

Schedule Your Free Discovery Session Here

 

2. Just as the President of The United States declares the flags at half mast for a set period of time, I, Kate Eskew, CEO of my life, now declare and place my flags at half mast until the early morning hours of Sunday, December 20, 2015. Further, on Saturday, December 19, 2015 at 10am Pacific, I'll be doing a telecall on the Winter Solstice. I dedicate this call to Grief. If this speaks to you, here are the details:

 

Winter Solstice Grief Call

 

If you are feeling the pull of grief at this moment, I invite you to declare and place your flags to half mast with me for the coming days. It can be 10 days, like me. It can be fewer or it can be more. Write back to me and let me know that you are. Let me know how you process your grief. I'd love to know.

 

Here's the thing. You can do this and still have a good time over the holidays. This is my path to perk myself up for the festivities and to revitalize myself for the coming year. The dragging weight that I feel at the moment is a far cry from how I want to feel in the coming weeks. And it's even further from how I want to enter 2016.

 

Writing this letter is already putting some strength back in my legs. Writing to you gives me purpose. For that, I thank you.

 

As we sit at the cusp of the final weeks of 2015, I could say that I can't believe how fast this year has gone but that wouldn't be true. For me this year has been fast and slow. And I've lived every inch of it. The ups, the downs, the sideways, the cross-ways, and the back-ways.

 

You've been with me this entire year. You've graciously read my stories and asked for more. For that, I want to thank you.

 

I have a very special gift for you.

 

On Saturday, December 5, 2015 at 9:00 am Pacific, I will be holding my first ever Earth Rise Project group healing call. I'll be doing this from the beautiful Oregon Coast. It seems such a fitting place to begin, where land meets the sea.

 

I invite you to join me for free.

 

You can sign up here.

 

And don't worry if you can't make it live. If you want to participate, just sign up. I'll send you the recording.

 

What is Earth Rise Project?

 

Earth Rise Project is a global healing community for the planet.

 

This is about engaging in planetary healing in a different way. You'll see. Join me on Saturday, December 5, 2015 at 9:00 am Pacific to get a feel for what our energy can do. This day marks the beginning of creating a new matrix of energy, a force of love, synced up for kick ass planetary superhealing.

What a three weeks it has been. My trip through Denise Dee's Brouhaha Festival ripped me open and pulled out all of the truths that I've been either ignoring or placating. It was awesome! Truly, I had a great time getting to know new healers, truth tellers, psychics, and artists who are doing exceptional work in the world, (including me)!

 

The final week showed me how I deny myself pleasure. From the novel that has been sitting next to my bed for two years that I've wanted to devour since the day I got it to listening to my music, (rather than The Three Stooges), to sharing my work. My real work. The life changing work that I LOVE to do and will make a huge difference in the world.

 

Oh pleasure. How I deny thee.

 

I'm cracking that book open. I'm playing The Dixie Chicks. I'm rolling out Earth Rise Project.

 

What is Earth Rise Project?

 

Earth Rise Project is a global healing community for the planet.

 

If you checked it out last week, you'll see that I changed the meeting time for the monthly 1 hour healing calls. 5am on Saturday morning was insane. It's now on the 1st Saturday of every month at 9am Pacific. I'm holding it on Saturday's for now because I need to have childcare in rain, snow, shine, and flu. That means when Dad is home. My intent is to have it early enough to have a full day ahead of you if you're on the West Coast and to hopefully catch you at a transition point if you're in another part of the world.​ Remember, if you can't come live, the work is just as potent when you listen to the recording later.

 

You see, we make it potent. In the time that we virtually come together either live or by recording, we are in sync. We are collectively in sync around bringing balance to our world. And that's a beautiful thing.