Georgia Lynn

I remember when my first kiddo was a baby, 11 years ago, I’d become overwhelmed when he cried. There were times I snapped and melted down. He was just being a baby. It’s heartbreaking because all I had wanted to do was give him what I didn’t have growing up: a home that felt safe, respectful, and loving. And though the intention was there, I didn’t yet have the tools to embody it. This is what started my healing journey — this longing to be the mom I wanted to be for him. Over the early years of his life, my toolbox grew, and I grew into that mom: the one who could stay grounded through the storms of his big feelings and help him learn to navigate them in ways I never had as a kid. Flash forward to now with my second baby: Even in these newborn days where sleep is limited, crying is plentiful, and hormones are wild, I don’t lose it. I’m able to be the steady one who holds him close and breathes a long exhale to help him calm. I’m able to be the mom I want to be.💙💙

We all have our own stuff. Our own fears, experiences, stories, and protective patterns. And sometimes, without realizing it, we can place those fears and stories onto other people. Or we can unknowingly take on someone else’s. This is often called projection. One of the powerful things about being in an intentional group is that the space is clearly bounded. There are agreements and structures in place that help limit projection — and support us in meeting it with care when it happens. Because when we have that kind of space, something opens. We’re able to see ourselves more clearly. We can express what’s true for us without being clouded by someone else’s assumptions, reactions, or experiences. This kind of container requires the participation of the whole group. A facilitator alone cannot create a truly held space. In the circles I facilitate, we intentionally pause between shares so each person has a moment to notice what’s arising within them. And this can be deeply insightful. Instead of immediately reacting or projecting, we get to sit with what’s here. We get to witness ourselves. We get to witness each other. And we get to practice being seen and seeing others with more clarity and less distortion. If you’re called to enter a space like this, Sanctuary might be for you. It’s a small, intentional circle that meets seasonally. The next circle begins next week. See the link in my bio for more.

Oh how I’ve missed my solo time in the mornings. Today I carved out a little space for quiet reflection before the day fully began. And even so, it still felt like I could be interrupted at any moment. That “at any moment” feeling kind of sums up certain seasons of life—especially when you’re deeply responsible for someone or something else (as in these newborn days). My nervous system is aware that I could be needed at any moment. It’s beautiful to be needed. To be the one who gives and helps someone feel full, safe, and cared for. What a privilege that can be. And also… I miss the freedom of not being needed at any moment. I knew I’d miss the freedom. I missed it hard when my first son was a little one. So I spent time grieving it when I was pregnant. Mourning the loss of my personal space. And it’s worthy of being mourned and grieved. Somehow, I feel like taking the time to acknowledge the loss helps me make peace with the reality of a season like this. It’s like letting myself be sad about it—even angry about it—and acknowledging how much I miss it, allows me to move forward. Because that’s how emotions work. When we give them space to be felt, seen, and heard, they move through us. They don’t get stuck. We don’t get stuck. And maybe this is one of the quiet invitations of being human: to hold the full truth of a season. The love. The longing. The beauty. The grief. The change. All of it belongs. And when we make space for what is real, we create more room to be present and alive right where we are.

Having a child changes you. Having a near-death experience changes you. I had both a month ago. And as I’ve been healing, I’ve also been rediscovering who I am now. One thing birth taught me was surrender. I’ve spent a lot of time sitting next to the river of life — admiring it, analyzing it, trying to plan it out perfectly — and, underneath it all, feeling afraid that I wouldn’t be held if I let go and let it carry me. Now I find myself unwilling to stay removed from this one precious life — just watching it go by from the shore. I don’t know exactly where I’m heading (though I’m holding my goals, desires, and dreams with open hands). I don’t know exactly how we’ll get there either, though I have some ways I’d like to try. And lately, it feels simpler than I ever made it. Be with what’s in front of you with love. Stay open to new directions. Let yourself grieve what’s lost. And soak up all the joy and beauty you can. That feels like enough for now. A loving reminder that the summer season of Sanctuary circles begins next week. If you’re looking for a space to rediscover who you’re becoming, you’re welcome here. See the link in my bio to learn more.

Celebrating 1 month of Simon 🤍 A month ago I was in the ICU, separated from my baby and my husband. I woke up confused, scared, and unsure of what had happened. And now… we’re dancing together to the @pussycatdolls 🥹☺️🥳 This feels so big because his birth didn’t feel like a celebration at first. It felt scary. It felt overwhelming. So it feels really special to pause and celebrate this sweet boy now — to honor his first month of life, the love that has surrounded us, and how far we’ve come. 🤍

I saw something on social media recently that said something like: be nostalgic about the life you’re living right now. And I love that because these moments end and one day I know I’ll be teary-eyed, flipping through a photo album, wishing we could go back in time—with @ritzer23 Pictures from when daddy Matt got pooped on yesterday. 💩

Last week I was having a hard moment and my mind was spinning a story…well, really a web of lies. And that web of thought was building up these heavy emotions. And it felt like a dark cloud was hanging over my heart. In the midst of this, I found myself zooming out. Taking a step back to notice my experience without becoming consumed by that dark cloud. And then I attached myself to my breath and the mantra: I’m held by love. That’s how our meditation practice helps us in real time. This moment felt like a calling to share meditation again after a long break from teaching it. Because I know others are struggling with their own dark clouds. And while meditation doesn’t stop darkness or keep us from pain, it can help us hold onto a little light within the storm. Join us tonight at 6 pm if you need that. Link is in the bio of course. ⛅️ Pic of me and my babe being light and goofy together.

Hey friends! Hopping on after our morning walk to make sure you know that I’m offering a meditation workshop tomorrow evening. If you’ve ever thought, “I’m bad at meditation,” gotten frustrated trying to sit still, or wanted to begin a daily-ish practice but haven’t known where to start, this is for you. We’ll explore two different approaches to meditation—awareness-based and transcendental—and spend time practicing each one together. You’ll get a feel for how they’re different and when they might be supportive. There will also be space to share about your experience, ask questions, and learn from one another. If you’ve been curious about joining a Sanctuary circle, this is also a gentle way to get a feel for the space and how I facilitate. Details: Wednesday, June 3 at 6 PM Virtual via Zoom Donation-based ($30 suggested donation) Register at the link in my bio. Hope you’ll join us. ❤️

These past three weeks have shown us: we are surrounded by love. Meals have shown up at our door nearly every day. People have come by to help around the house (one friend came over to clean our toilets!!!). Others have stopped by to lift our spirits. So many have sent up prayers and notes of encouragement. We are so blessed with a beautiful community, and we’re so grateful for how they’ve shown up for us—with @ritzer23 🫶

POV: your BFF who lives in LA comes to visit for a week, takes care of your entire household while you heal (including reorganizing your very disorganized cabinets), and you snap one sweet and sweaty pic together. Love you Carmen. Mean it. 💦❤️🫶

From the Journey

If something in you is stirring…