We all come from hard times. We all have a story to tell. Mine is about alcoholism, abuse, and awareness.
Mine leads me to discovering more fully the depths of resilience, compassion and service that are vital to living a life worth living.
In these days of growing darkness and despair, I wish to fan the flame of light and love within you.
We can overcome addiction, racism, overwhelm. And we cannot do it alone in the broken structures of our dominant culture.
The first part of wellness is “we” and the first part of illness is “I”
That said, let us share our stories and cultivate wellness and inner peace in these trying times. We can listen and imagine and create a more beautiful world our hearts know is possible.
For those of you who haven’t, and want to get a teaser, listen to me read Chapter One: Trust. Please click above for a heartfelt half-hour of the real, raw, vulnerable me.
Those who want an audio version to take on your next walk outdoors, click here. (alas, I cannot get this link to work. If anyone wants to help me get audios set up in podcast form, I welcome the help.)
Those who want off my list, please just click unsubscribe below.
The time is now to overcome our addiction to dominant culture and start to trust ourselves to no longer abandon ourselves.
It’s time to quit playing small. Here’s to being stretchy and vulnerable, together, as a way of empowering ourselves and our societies.
BUY MY NEW TRANSFORMATIONAL MEMOIR RELEASED 6/18/19 NOW:
Amy’s transformational memoir explores the journey from despair to repair and serves an invitation to us all to understand the distinctions of an extraordinary life through the lens of resilience, compassion, and service.
Picture
the meat tenderizer mallet in my mom’s hands. Hear the thud of the mallet on
the steaks on the counter. Again. The swinging and pounding of the mallet
repeats, tenderizing the meat. The mallet penetrates deeply. It looks
dangerous, but its purpose is to tenderize, to penetrate deeply, to make the
tough meat palatable. As so it is with memoir. Thoroughly overcooked, my story
sits, dried and tough. My past is marbled with drama and trauma; unappetizing
yet intricately laced in the meat of the story.
Believe me, I tried to digest it all; I chewed and chewed, yet the
blob stayed in my mouth, gag-reflex triggered. The undigested, flavorless meat,
grey and unappetizing, bothersome at best.
I spit it into a paper napkin and throw it away; yet there is no away.
Not with our life stories. They can clog our arteries and hurt us, or they give
us the choice to tenderize our hearts and fertilize the space between.
“Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine,”
Mary
Oliver reminds us.
Summers in Florida are hot. Period.
It all started as a moonshot.
It all started as a moonshot.
July of 1969, no exception. The forecast called for humidity, but
no thunderstorms, a crucial piece of data for determining the moonshot. JFK’s
imperative that man gets to the moon by the end of the decade generated
internal heat for beings around the world. This heat, for many, had the flavor
of mind-blowing, exhilarating optimism, and infinite potentialities. For
others, the heat took on a more negative charge; resentment that funds went
upward toward visionary aims instead of dealing with domestic issues down on
Earth like poverty and crime, down here in America.
Thankfully, my parents, gathered with family and friends on the
coast of Florida, celebrated the moonshot. They were in the exhilarated camp.
This was indeed extraordinary.
Dad got the coals ready on the Coleman BBQ while mom pounded the
meat tenderizer on the steaks. Steaks meant celebration. The neighbor, Susan,
shucked the ears of fresh picked Zellwood corn. Always around, always helpful,
Susan prepared the sides and desserts. More butter needed, always more butter
needed, Susan and butter were hand in hand. My mom prepared the main dish.
Everyone brought the booze.
My parents had, at this time, four children, ages 10 and under,
who ran down the beach, lighting fireworks and getting high off the energetic
buzz of excitement that historic night of the first lunar landing. The moon,
symbolic of the unconscious, loomed high in the sky, no longer a hope and a
wish.
We were, collectively, bridging the conscious with the
unconscious. This took place at a pivotal time. The moonshot, the Apollo
mission, was “the result of thorough research carried out by a successful team,
whose strength rises from a common thought made up of simple ideas, growing and
coming together in one dream, yours and ours.” I came across this description
on an ordinary clothing tag recently, but it sums up most worthwhile endeavors
in life.
It takes more than me. Simple ideas, common thought.
It takes more than me. Simple ideas, common thought.
The late 60s in American history, full of swirling energies of
change and possibilities, the fertile ground for greater consciousness, was the
birthplace of the moonshot, both for Neil
Armstrong
and for my conception. Suspended in a moment pregnant with possibilities, my
parents consummated this joy. The backdrop of the American culture, so
promising and inspiring, had a moment to shine. Those in power advocated
overcoming scarcity, fear, and negativity, and finding common ground. This
climate of greater consciousness, of human advancement, bathed my parents as
they made love.
The backdrop of my conception is creative non-fiction. I don’t
know if they ate steaks the night man landed on the moon, but it certainly goes
with the meat tenderizer concept. And you know what? It doesn’t matter. It
works. It works because tenderizing my heart makes for a more palatable
offering.
Where I’d like to be is offering you a tender, juicy, tasty offering of a life worth
living, in order to inspire you to see, in case you haven’t already, that your
life is worth living, extraordinarily so. I do not have to keep chewing the
bland steak, the old overcooked story.
Where I’m from, I tethered myself back to the reality and power of love.
As I’m sitting here, a tender, powerful, generous woman, my history, my story, sits
before me. My heart opens wider to a heart-centric life. I consciously choose
to tenderize my heart on a daily basis, to cover it with love, and let that
love spill out and make a mess. Tears come with tenderizing, and usually a good
bit of snot, and sometimes an imploding headache. I take a deep breath and
remember the wisdom of my body. The body speaks my mind, releases the pinch of
constriction, lets the blood flow freely to the sore spots, feels it to heal
it, and releases any issues stored in my tissues. I thank my body by taking
another deep breath.
What matters most is embracing the magic of choosing love over drama, or as we say
in Hawai’i, choosing aloha
over pilikia, trouble of any kind. In
the past, the troubles dominated my mental real estate, taking up the scenic
landscape with high-rise pillars of doom. I lost sight of the clouds, the
birds, the beautiful sunrise that happens every day without fail. In the past,
what it was like was I was adrift, spinning out of control at times while
exerting control in a grasping, constricting way. I trusted everything and then
nothing. Trust bled to mistrust and I landed in a psychological hell realm.
One thing I can do is recognize I am 100% responsible for my life’s story, and as
such, be source for a transformed world. I can integrate what happened in my
life and see how my experience does not define me.
One thing I appreciate is
that I’m on this incredible journey, this opportunity to live an extraordinary
life of love, connection and commitment. I can get out of those scary places in
my mind more quickly and with more grace than ever before. And truthfully, I
don’t enter them as often as I used to.
This is what it was like. Losing trust in myself, unable to focus on what mattered most, creating wreckage and losing faith in the carefree feeling of youth. My adolescence fostered resilience in me. Resilience of staying alive, strengthening my soul and returning to love, despite trying experiences that tested my trust.
from Moonshot: What was it like living in a culture devoid of rites of passage other than binge and puke and spread your legs? Naturally, my heart hurt, my soul ached, and my spirit floated lost. From this place of intensity, I developed incredible resilience. This is what happened: settling into sobriety, grounding into gratitude, and cultivating a compassionate heart, my mind cleared, my heart opened, my spirit reactivated, and my energy expanded. This is what it’s like now: breathing aloha into every moment, recognizing our interdependence, and claiming responsibility as a source for transformation, naturally, my grateful heart has more blessings than I can say grace over.
back cover
MOONSHOT ENDORSEMENTS
“Equal parts lyrical, confessional, and practical, Amy Elizabeth vulnerably uses her own journey through addiction and trauma to inspire readers to move beyond limiting beliefs and heal from the past” (Alicia Munoz, author of No More Fighting: 20 Minutes a Week to a Stronger Relationship)
“Moonshot is an elegant and visceral memoir that dares one to question one’s own resilience and courage. Indeed, Amy Elizabeth is as transparent as she appears in these pages. Love the interactive curriculum and its usefulness” (Kekuhi Keali’ikanaka’oleohaililani, trainer, Halau ‘Ohi’a).
“This work is the bridge between despair and repair. It is an invitation for women to tenderize our own hearts and to craft a new heart-centric story, the true story of who we are at our core” (Kristen Noel, editor-in-chief, Best Self Magazine).
“Nature did not design us to be alone. Evidence shows that people who enjoy close, fulfilling relationships with others are happier, healthier, and more creative. If this does not prompt you to the wonderful Moonshot, please reconsider. Highly recommended!” (Larry Dossey, MD, author of One Mind: How Our Individual Mind Is Part of a Greater Consciousness and Why It Matters).
“What an enchanting, captivating, beautiful, practical book! Based in personal experience and penetrating prose, Moonshot is meant for anyone who needs more love, empathy, and compassion in their life-and who doesn’t? Let Amy be your guide to a richer, deeper commitment-not just to others but to the world” (Barbara Montgomery Dossey, RN, PhD, FAAN, author of Florence Nightingale: Mystic, Visionary, Healer and Holistic Nursing: A Handbook for Practice).
