Taking a Different Approach to the Care of Ankylosing Spondylitis

This article originally written and published on March 22, 2022 for the Rheumatology Nurses Association.

I was raised in the traditional Western system of medicine. If anyone in our family became ill, a doctor would prescribe us medication, which we would take until we became better. This routine was normal, and it seemed to work every time. Prescription drugs or over-the-counter medicines were the only method I knew for treating illnesses.

But as I grew older, I became aware that many drugs do not actually cure illnesses themselves, but rather help to manage specific symptoms. Drugs also cause side effects—some as benign as nausea, dry mouth, or heartburn, as well as others that are much more serious, like cancer, tuberculosis, or even death.

I’ve dealt with all of those benign side effects (but fortunately none of the more serious ones) during the course of my treatment for ankylosing spondylitis (AS) since being diagnosed in 2017. Each time I started on a new therapy and read through the potential side effects, I couldn’t help but wonder, “What if there is a way to treat my condition without drugs?” After speaking with many other AS patients over the course of the last 5 years, I’m fairly certain I am not alone.

My journey to a diagnosis of AS is not particularly unique. As with many patients, it took too long—6 years in my case—to get a proper diagnosis. This was partially my fault. I ignored many signs that something was wrong. My symptoms came on gradually, one after the other, until they began to affect my quality of life in an undeniable way. There were times when I couldn’t walk, sit, or lay down without intense pain. I used to wake up paralyzed with stiffness. I’ll never forget those days when I felt truly unable to do anything for myself. Looking back, I often think that my doctors could have done a better job directing my care, but I also know that I could also have done a better job of self-advocating. Nevertheless, there’s no use in blaming anyone. I have AS, a disease without a cure, and I’ll be living with it for the rest of my life.

Once I was diagnosed with AS, I remember discussing treatment options with my rheumatologist. I initially settled on meloxicam, an NSAID with fewer side effects than most drugs. As long as I took it consistently, meloxicam seemed to work well for me, but in late 2017, I had to switch medications because I wanted to have a baby. In order to have the safest pregnancy possible, I was prescribed Humira, an immunosuppressant delivered to my home in a Styrofoam crate accompanied by many colorful pamphlets.

“Fortunately, I had enough self-awareness to know that feelings of loneliness and hopelessness require a bit of self-reflection.”

I had to inject Humira into my thigh. The first time I tried this, I was at my rheumatologist’s office. The nurse showed me how to use the mechanism, but when I clicked it, nothing happened. She was confused and decided it was defective. She went to get another dose from the refrigerator and readied it for injection. I was worried—isn’t Humira supposed to be at room temperature before it is injected? But the nurse seemed to think it was fine to use it cold, so I thought, OK, maybe you don’t have to let it warm up… (The manufacturer of Humira notes that, for potential patient comfort, the injection pen can be taken out of the refrigerator for 15-30 minutes before injecting to allow the liquid to reach room temperature, though this is not a requirement).

After the nurse clicked the mechanism, ice-cold liquid coursed through my thigh and into the rest of my body. The injection site tingled and then numbed. Was that it?

The way the medicine entered my body that day was a physical manifestation of all my unspoken concerns: the side effects, my limited treatment options, the implications of problems I’d face in the future, the slight chance it would harm my unborn baby, the possible incompetence of the nurse, and my failure to advocate for myself.

I sat back, feeling a bit odd. My vision became fuzzy, and I slowly lost touch with my surroundings. The nurse, the chair, and the paintings on the wall gradually pixelated into a white oblivion. I almost passed out. The paramedics were called. They thought I was going into anaphylactic shock, and so did I. Fortunately, the episode passed. The rheumatology team and the paramedics told me it must have been a panic attack.

After the incident, I was too afraid to inject myself, so my husband did my injections while playing soothing music and simulating a spa-like atmosphere. I don’t remember my rheumatologist following up in any meaningful way after my initial episode. I would have appreciated someone reaching out to provide support, but none was offered. This made me feel very alone and hopeless.

Fortunately, I had enough self-awareness to know that feelings of loneliness and hopelessness require a bit of self-reflection. I was clearly uncomfortable with both Humira itself and the manner in which it is administered. If I was going to live with AS and face situations like this for the rest of my life, I had to make sure both my mind and body were aligned. In addition, I needed to feel supported along the way. Consequently, I decided to seek out alternative methods to manage my disease.

I don’t remember how I heard about naturopathic medicine, but once I did, I was immediately intrigued. The naturopathic method treats the whole person—mind, body, and spirit—and it was exactly what I was looking for.

My naturopath made it clear that I had to help my body reduce the inflammation. With her assistance, I began to understand the link between gut health and body health. I isolated trigger foods via food sensitivity testing and comprehensive stool analysis. Additionally, I began seeing a therapist so I could heal my mind alongside my body. By maintaining a moderate activity level and adhering to a low-stress lifestyle, I’ve kept my AS in remission since 2017 without needing additional biologic therapy.

Not surprisingly, naturopathic care never came up in conversations I’ve ever had with any of my rheumatologists. I had to seek out information on my own. As it’s rarely been studied in a formal manner, there is little evidence-based data out there in support of the naturopathic approach, but pursuing a more natural path to wellness is something that I felt obligated to try after my initial scary experience with Humira. And it’s worked for me—it’s been 6 years since I made the switch and I’ve been able to keep my AS in check during that time.

I may not be in remission forever, and I’m not completely opposed to medication. I have two small children, and I can’t afford to be in pain while caring for them. I’m so thankful I currently only take CBD and other supplements, but I’m mentally prepared to need something more substantial in the future. I still have a rheumatologist who I see when I feel a flare coming on, but our relationship is admittedly a bit strained. I would like to be able to find a warm, supportive practice where I feel comfortable verbalizing my concerns about treatment in the future, but it’s not something I’ve felt the need to aggressively seek out for the time being.

I understand that I’ve been privileged in my healthcare journey. Not everyone has the option to pursue naturopathic care since it usually isn’t covered by insurance. I also made the difficult decision several years ago to move from the Chicago area to Fort Collins, CO, in order to pursue a lower-stress, more active lifestyle. After much internal struggle, I left my full-time job as a high school English teacher to pursue freelance writing work from home. Part privilege, part proactivity, my choices gave me the opportunity to make some very positive changes in my life. For several years now, I’ve been able to focus on my whole-body health.

My disease has taught me so much about the power of my mind over my body. Our bodies are blueprints of our lives—everything we go through is held deep within our cells and tissues. If we don’t address the causes of stress or trauma, we will quite literally burst into pain. For these reasons, AS has taught me never to bury my emotions or live falsely. AS has taught me to seek support when I need it and not to be a martyr without a cause.

AS has also taught me to be a vocal advocate for both my body and my mind. My fellow sufferers with rheumatic disease and I need to take care of ourselves at all costs. We need to speak up and let others know what we’re going through. It isn’t enough to pursue an active lifestyle, eat healthy, and visit our healthcare providers on a regular basis. We also have to make sure to do things for the health of our spirits and connect with fellow humans. We must do these things for the longevity of our bodies, minds, and spirits. After all, we identify as people, and not a disease.

5 Ways Minimalism Helps Keep My Autoimmune Symptoms in Remission

Article originally published for Ankylosingspondylitis.net

In 2016, I was overworked, underpaid, and burning the candle at all ends.

Every day, I’d wake up before 5am for my job as an AP English teacher. After work, I’d drive through rush-hour traffic and clock exactly 1.5 hours the gym. Back home, I’d walk the dog, scarf some leftovers, and grade papers until I fell asleep. I spent weekends galivanting around Chicago with friends and my fiancé (now husband).

I was thought I was doing great. To others it seemed like I was happy and balanced. Internally, I was anxious and uncalibrated, and living a lifestyle that was not sustainable for my personal health.

My autoimmune disease kicked in with a whole-body flare in May of 2016. I could barely walk or complete basic tasks like dressing myself or even sitting at my desk. I would stay awake all night willing the pain to subside even just for a short while so I could get some rest.

After seeing all of the doctors, getting all of the tests, diligently pursuing physical therapy and starting medication, I was on a slow road to recovery. I also knew I’d never get fully better unless I made some big changes in my life other than medical interventions.

To help alleviate the pain and reduce inflammation, I knew I needed to slow everything down, recalibrate, and align my body with my mind. I did two big things to help my body and mind reunite:

One - I resolved to end my teaching career in 2017

Two – I chose to pursue a more minimalist way of living.

What is minimalism?

Minimalism comes in many forms. Of course, there is the minimalist aesthetic – a type of art that monopolizes on white space. Here, the basic role of white space is to let your art come alive and breathe by reducing the amount of distracting text or other elements. A person who leads a minimalist lifestyle also understands the necessity of white space, deeming it essential for reducing distractions. Minimalists basically try to live a healthy and happy life with more white space: more unscheduled time, and less physical and mental distractions.

To achieve more white space in my life, I needed to live with less possessions, less distractions, less non-essential obligations, and less mental clutter. In a society that always focuses on more, it would be difficult to choose “less” and go against the norm. But I needed to make this tough choice for my health and my future.

So, in addition to taking medication when needed, I chose minimalism.

5 ways I use minimalist philosophy to guide my healing:

Social life – To limit the physical impact of my social obligations, I reduced my availability. I also created firm boundaries around my time to safeguard myself of unnecessary social drama. As a result, I was able to spend more time with people who were important to me, and I had more time to spend on activities that mattered to me. I also had more downtime, which I definitely needed.

Household items – My husband and I sold or donated half of our possessions before relocating from the Chicago suburbs to Fort Collins, CO. We reduced our square footage by more than 3,000 feet! Moving from a large metropolitan area to a smaller city eliminated long commuting hours and the reduced the impact of environmental stress that accompanies big city life.

Fitness goals - Instead of counting hours, steps, and calories, I take more walks in nature. I’ve recently returned to Pilates, yoga, and swimming – exercise I had to stop due to my huge flare 5 years ago. Taking a more mindful approach to exercise helps me slow down and listen to what my body needs, instead ignoring my body to achieve an inconsequential goal.

Inflammatory foods – Taking the advice of a naturopath, I took a food sensitivity test to pinpoint foods that were causing inflammation. In addition to eliminating inflammatory foods, I began shopping on the periphery of the grocery store, focusing more on fresh fruits and vegetables, and less on processed and preservative-laden foods.  Reducing the overall inflammation in my body has really helped alleviate the pain I experience.

Technology Use – I have an iPhone, and I really enjoy how conveniently I can access all the information in the world! But such access can a source of great distraction. In order to silence the allure of my iPhone, I mute or eliminate notifications, make ample use of “airplane mode” and “do not disturb. I also try to keep my phone in another room when I know I need to focus. Most of all, I try to be conscious of how I’m using my phone and what information I’m consuming.

I’ll never take my “pain free” life for granted. I’m so thankful for each day I can sleep through the night without pain. I can walk without fear of falling. I can bend over and put on socks. I can drive a car. I can pick up my children, spin them around, and chase them while they giggle with glee. I can dance with my husband to our favorite songs. I can mow the lawn. I can walk through the grocery store and lift heavy bags from my car to the kitchen. All of these are so simple, and yet there was a time where I couldn't even do these basic things.

Minimalism has helped me. Maybe it can help you?

With gratitude,

Ali

What does ‘winning’ mean to you?

Everyone needs to have their own measure of what ‘winning’ means to them. ― Ken Sayles

Others might not be so impressed, but for me, balancing on a paddleboard in the open water was a huge win. Adding the extra motion of paddling - bending and extending the arms, using the water’s resistance to propel myself forward, all the while using my core and leg muscles to balance - and I felt like an Olympian!

6 years ago, I could barely stand on dry land. After taking a step or two, my legs were know to buckle underneath me. I couldn’t even sit for very long because of the severe lower back pain, intense pain that would send sciatica down one leg or the other.

My condition was infuriating and random. Every morning I woke up paralyzed with stiffness. I was only 34, but I would roll out of bed like a feeble 90-year-old woman. I couldn’t lift my legs to put on underwear or jeans. I couldn’t bend over to put on my shoes. I had to swivel my body in and out of the car. I quit Pilates, something I really loved and thought I might even become an instructor. There was a short period of time where I was completely immobile.

After an Ankylosing Spondylitis diagnosis, many doctors, medications, holistic advice, and years of trial and error to fix myself, I’m joyfully returning to a moderate activity level. I joined a gym, and I’m taking a few yoga and pilates classes a week. I’m swimming again, and doing a few rounds of the weight equipment when it feels right.

But, unlike before, when I had a “no pain, no gain” mentality, I’m going to heed the warnings in my body. If there is pain, I’d better rest and reassess.

Rest and reassess. This is winning to me.

Have you ever stepped away from an active life, and returned to it after a time? I’d love to hear your story.

💚Ali

Let Them Play in Puddles

Let them play in puddles!

It seems counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?

Allowing our kids to frolic in puddles is almost like wishing for even more dirty laundry, muddy footprints in the house, dirty fingernails, and promoting general recklessness. Puddles and mud are just a bad idea!

Right?

Wrong, actually.

(Except for the laundry part…)

Allowing for puddle-play provides a healthy outlet for expending extra energy and helps reduce anxiety. Just getting kids to step outside can lower cortisol levels significantly!

Playing in mud and puddles can also boost your child’s immune system. Every time kids are exposed to regular germs, such as dirty and muddy surfaces, their immune system kicks in, “creating the codes to fight off sicknesses.” In fact, exposing children to dirt and germs in their daily life could be key to proper immune health.

As an added bonus, getting kids outside to interact with natural things requires zero toys. Nature is truly a minimalist playground!

Instead, every time it rains, I’ll be outside with my kids jumping in puddles too.

What about you?

💚Ali

Mother’s Day Reflection

“I’ve been trying to blur the lines between us since you were born.” - Glennon Doyle

Mother’s Day is May 8th in the USA. This day is not as simple as roses and chocolates. It’s not hallmark cards or fancy coffees. It’s sometimes not happy either. It can be downright devastating.

Mother’s Day is everything and nothing.

Motherhood is so much explosive love in a sea of loss: lost time, lost sleep, lost self.

Mother’s Day reminds us of those who were stripped of motherhood too soon, those who never had a mother, and those who want desperately to be mothers. We think also of those mothers sitting in quiet houses, longing to hear squeals of childish delight again.

We mothers form our children, who then form the world. What a terribly important and difficult job.

I always question my worthiness, as I must never cease to be worthy of the name “Momma.”

💚Ali

We are the sum total of our experiences.

Like flowing water, our experiences (and those yet to come) continue to influence and reshape the person we are, as well as the person we become.

~BJ Neblett

This is why it’s so very important to invest in experiences instead of material things.

Ever since I began to intentionally pursue meaningful experiences instead of things, I began to understand so much more about my place in the world. When I met Josh, and realized he had the very same minimalist outlook, I knew the universe had great plans for our future together.

Now that we have children, we understand that random kid ephemera may come into our lives briefly, without significance.

And that’s ok - it’s our season of kid stuff. Instead of placing importance on things, we place focus on how we spend our days and the experiences we have together. ⠀

Minimalism is a lifestyle that can have a profound impact on individuals and their families.

Do you have a minimalist tip or story to share? I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts 💚⠀

With gratitude, Ali

They will remember our adventures, not our stuff.

Kids outgrow stuff. They won’t outgrow adventures!

Having Miles (age almost 4) home all week due to a 🦠 outbreak at his school was a challenge. I could have easily gone to Target and bought him new toys, gadgets, etc to make it easier.

But here’s the thing about “stuff” - stuff only entertains children for a very short while before they move on to the next thing.

Adventures might require a bit more planning, but once the kids are out there, interacting with the natural world, everything falls into place.

The outdoors offers limitless potential for children. It’s a place where they can relax their minds; it’s a place they can design, create, and explore - not only the natural world, but themselves.

On this particular adventure, Miles decided to see what would happen if he stuck his boot all the way in the water until water seeped in. 😂 🙊 Wesley, the baby, kept to his rock for the most part and enjoyed poking a long stick into the water.

How are you adventuring lately?

💚Ali

Universal Symbol of Stillness

The mantis is a universal symbol of stillness.

In most cultures around the world, she is a messenger telling us to be still, go within, meditate, and reach a place of simplicity and calm.

I found this little harbinger two summers ago, while I was on one of my “pregnancy walks.” I was so glad to see her, and I instinctively put my hand to the ground next to her. She tentatively climbed onto my palm with her beautifully grotesque spindly legs. She seemed very weak but incredibly wise, as if she held the secrets to the universe.

Looking into her eyes gave me pause. Such majesty and mystery in one small-ish bug. A living testament to the existence of aliens and a reminder that all is well in nature. An ancient prophecy of wealth and abundance, and a reminder of the cycle of life: birth, death, and resurrection.

But where does the whole “female devours male during copulation” come into play here?

I’ll let that one be for now.

Wishing you all good fortune today and always.

💚Ali

Books Don’t Need Batteries

Miles is almost 4! Some of his interests include studying nature artifacts, taping things to the wall, drawing, painting, numbers and adding, dance parties, going on walks and bike rides, and “reading” books.

Once a day, or maybe twice depending on the type of day, he is allowed to watch an approved show on our family television. While he watches, he sometimes sits, full absorbed. But most other times, he plays with his toys or has a conversation with us. He asks us about show, and the experience is shared by the family.

Now, if he was watching on a tablet or a phone, that would be a another thing entirely.

Tablets deliver a different experience than a television. The type of stimulation they provide is similar to that of an addictive substance. In fact, using a tablet or a mobile device ignites the very same receptors in the brain as cocaine does!

Tablet use also has been said to “rewire children’s brains,” making it difficult for kids to attend to slower-paced information.

Miles and his little brother will not be using tablets until their brains develop to a fuller extent. They and all children do not need to be exposed to such an absorbing type of technology, one that has countless studied negative outcomes, such as the impairment of social skills, inhibited awareness of the world around them, and impaired speech development.

Of course, tablet technology is here to stay because it is inherently useful. But it’s just not for kids.

Please don’t be fooled by all these fun looking apps and “research driven” movements to get kids on devices earlier. Their sweet little brains just aren’t ready for it yet. And please audit your own tech use, because your babies are watching you.

Be present with them.

And let them be kids.

💚Ali

Home

(This article was originally published in January of 2018)

“There’s no place like home.” - Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz

Home.

What is “home”?

I, like many others, didn’t grow up in just one house. I’ve belonged to many homes over the years. And, I’ve felt “at home” in many other spaces as well: a small suburban house with cracks in the wall and spiders everywhere, my grandmother’s airy kitchen, self-made backyard forts of pilfered wood, musty college dorm rooms, hip mid-town apartments, a smattering of woodland cabins whilst backpacking, even a tiny conversion van in Iceland...

The list goes on.

But…where’s the real "home"? Or, more importantly, what is “home”?

Some answers to these questions might be:

“Home is where the heart is.”

”Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”

”Houses get bought and sold, but home stays with you always.”

Bella DePaulo of Psych Central affirms that home is a “place, a space, a feeling, a set of practices, or an active state of being in the world.” And, each one of us obviously has a similar, yet subjectively different, concept of home.

In studying the concept of home, and thinking about all its nuanced meanings, I've found that "home," stripped of all abstraction, must be composed of four intangible elements:

1. Comfort

2. Safety

3. Belonging

4. Love

These four in combination create a rich base from which we can grow, thrive, and reach our full potentials.

In order to become actualized, complete people, a home should provide order and stability, freedom from fear, and protection from negative emotional and physical elements.

A home should be a place where we fit in, a space where we can trust ourselves and others, a place where we belong, a space where we are loved. A place where we are treated with dignity and respect.

Home is where we deserve all the best things, even on our worst days.  

Home is an aspect of our personal identity.

Since personal identity is a story that we put together throughout our lives, where we choose to live shapes part of that story. By changing our location or surrounding ourselves with different objects and people, we are altering our sense of home, and modifying our personal narratives.  Once we change our story, it is very hard to mentally and physically return to reside in a previous edition.

Here’s an exercise —

Write down every single place you’ve ever “lived,” even for a short time. Also, consider the places where you’ve felt “at home.”

Scan your list, contemplate each item, and think about the following:

• How did you feel about yourself in these places?

• How have these places shaped you as you’ve grown?

• How have these experiences impacted your life?

My list:

1. Suburban Chicago (several locations)

2. San Diego (multiple different apartments)

3. Various log cabins in northern Minnesota

4. One dusty East Hollywood apartment

5. London (two distinct flats in two distinct boroughs)

6. Apartment in Boston, MA

7. Various hostels in New Zealand

8. My grandma's house in suburban San Francisco

9. A convertible van in Iceland

10. Llama farm in Loveland, CO

11. House in Fort Collins, CO

Every place and space I’ve occupied over the course of my awareness has been my home, and my experiences in those places and spaces make up who I am.

Experiencing that unmistakable home-like feeling in San Diego, CA 2017

Often times I am wistful for one of these places, longing for those people with whom I spent time, the comforts I felt, or those experiences I’ve had. However, I would find it very hard to reside in any of those places I once called home. My story has changed over time, and my identity has become more solidified. I wouldn’t feel comfortable living in one of my past places since I myself am completely different, while those bygone homes, experiences, and people I once knew stay the same in my mind.

“Every place and space I’ve occupied over the course of my awareness has been my home, and my experiences in those places and spaces make up who I am.”

When I visit a place I used to live, I am initially enthralled, but many times this excitement morphs into anxiety. This is due to the fact that visual cues from these past environments trigger nostalgia, and I am overpowered by past experiences. These memories, while lovely, can be detrimental.

I worry these powerful recollections might cause me to return to the person I was when I lived there. A person not fully formed. A person still searching for her truth. It’s also strange and unsettling to encounter myself in these spaces, as they’ve stayed the same in my mind, yet have changed over time.

Can you relate to this?

This anxiety happens every time I visit the house where I spent my teenage years.

Every other Thanksgiving or Christmas, and a smattering of other occasions throughout a year, I visit a former home in suburban Chicago. Though this was not the house I grew up in — my family moved there when I was 16 — it is a beautiful, bright house on a quiet, meandering street. It is surrounded by flourishing trees and foliage; the backyard is home to plentiful wildflowers, bunnies, birds of all kinds, and the occasional fox. The house is also large enough to host our family during the holidays.

Not quite at home. (Austin, TX, 2014)

In a sense, when I visit this house, I am returning home. But, in this place, I never really approach that soul-serving feeling of being at home.

When I lived between those walls, my family was in tumult. My parents were nearing the end of their marriage. While facing an inevitable dissolution, our household went through every stage of emotional chaos you could think of, making the energy inside very toxic.

In this house, I didn't feel comfortable or safe; I doubted I belonged there. I believed the love I received was conditional upon making my bed, coming home before curfew, or getting straight A’s. So, I stuck to my room most of the time, listening for clues as to the mood, purpose, and whereabouts of each family member. My experiences there were emotionally scarring for me. By suffering through it, I developed a moderate anxiety disorder, highlighted by disordered eating and panic attacks, the latter of which I still sometimes experience in my adult life. It was no surprise that I chose to attend college on the other side of the country - in San Diego. I moved there in 2001 with no regrets or homesickness whatsoever.

Fractured homes tear at their occupants. Abandoned building, Detroit 2014

However, upon returning during college breaks, the atmosphere was even worse. It was almost as if the house was the epicenter of an emotional tornado, ripping and tearing at its occupants, testing them, pitting them against each other, reducing them to raw, primal beings.

20 years have passed since that time, and the atmosphere of this house is different now. My mother is its sole occupant; and, for the most part, the the toxicity has dissipated. A sense of calm has pieced old wounds back together again. But some of the residual tumult remains. Sometimes, tiny smoldering embers are fanned back to life after I cross the threshold. For this unfortunate reason, I rarely feel comfortable here, in what my family universally calls home.

It must be incredibly disappointing to come to terms with the fact that the house you created isn’t a comfortable, safe place where your family feels they belong, where they are loved.

From observing my parent's attempts, I know that creating and cultivating a comfortable, safe, and loving home is a very difficult task. Building an ideal environment where all occupants can thrive might even be an impossible task, but it is an essential task. 

The mission to create an ideal home environment has recently taken on extreme importance to my husband Josh and I: we are expecting the birth of our first child in May (!!!). We have no idea what to expect in bringing a new life into this world, but we do know it is the most important job we will ever have.

In anticipation, we have made a few vows regarding the space where our family will grow and thrive:

Our home will be a place where our future children feel comfortable. A place where they feel like they belong; a place where they feel emotionally and physically safe, where they are loved and treated with dignity and respect. A place where our family can find order in the midst of a chaotic world.

Home isn't about the house, the yard, or the town. Home is what all occupants build together, a shared journey of love and belongingness. Home is the collective effort to honor every family member. Home is the mutual promise of safety and comfort. 

Home is where the heart is, but it is also where the heart thrives.

Home isn’t a set house, or a single town on a map. It is wherever the people who love you are, whenever you are together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.

- adapted from a quote by Sarah Dessen, from What Happened to Goodbye

A Post-Mother's Day Reflection

I’ve been trying to blur the lines between us since you were born.

Mother’s Day was yesterday in the USA. This day is not as simple as roses and chocolates. It’s not hallmark cards or fancy coffees. It’s sometimes not happy either. It can be downright devastating.

Mother’s Day is everything and nothing.

Motherhood is so much explosive love in a sea of loss: lost time, lost sleep, lost self.

Mother’s Day reminds us of those who were stripped of motherhood too soon, those who never had a mother, and those who want desperately to be mothers. We think also of those mothers sitting in quiet houses, longing to hear squeals of childish delight again.

We mothers form our children, who then form the world. What a terribly important and difficult job.

I always question my worthiness, as I must never cease to be worthy of the name “Momma.”

I Was Once in a Video Game

Let’s try something random: I was once in a video game.

Dressed in a pleated skirt and an Oxford shirt, I appeared as a “school girl” in various scenes of the first-person shooter game “Target Terror.”

So random, right?

My confused image popped out of strange places - dumpsters, escalators, nuclear waste bins...If you accidentally shot me, you lost points.

I’m a self-described digital minimalist, so it’s very odd to admit that video games have been part of my life since I was a baby.

I grew up in a fairly high-tech household — my dad worked as a computer scientist and game designer.

In the early-mid 90s, my brothers and I had a PC before Windows was even a thing: we learned to run programs through DOS by using commands our dad taught us.

Sometimes we were able to get new popular game consoles (original Nintendo, N64, Sega Genesis...) before they hit stores, and we even had a few arcade and pinball games in the basement.

Now, 25 years later, gaming has evolved into something quite different than the simple games of the 80s and 90s. Now that we all have tiny computers in our pockets, our relationship with technology has become more complicated than ever before.

I know that personal technology can enhance life in many ways, but I can’t disregard its many negative effects.

I don’t play video games. I’ve never had Candy Crush on my phone. I have trouble with group text chains and often “remove myself from the conversation.” I implement Do Not Disturb hours, and place limits on when I use certain apps on my phone. I prefer my record player to Spotify. My dad laughs at all this, and calls me a Luddite!😂

It’s funny how a person who grew up with all the latest gaming tech can turn into a record-playing, real-book-reading digital minimalist.

Your turn: share something random that shaped you as a person!

💚Ali

The Freedom of Monotony

“When things don't change, their sameness becomes an accretion. That is why all society puts on flesh, succumbs to the cubicles and begins to fill them.”

Tennessee Williams

This article was originally published in the spring of 2016

Not long ago, one of my former students surprised me with an existential question. After lamenting that the monotony of life was “getting him down,” he asked me what the secret was: “How do people survive the monotony of high school?”

He cited the dullness of each day repeating just as the last: getting up, going to school, studying and doing homework, going home, eating and sleeping, only to hope for the same thing again the next day. He feared an uneventful, depressing life, one where he would go through the motions simply because it was expected of him, without any other reason.

When living this particular perspective, life seems pointless, dull, and depressing.

I think we all feel this way at certain points in our lives.

In order to survive the monotony, we have to make a conscious choice to improve ourselves each day. Take new routes to school or work. Explore different options within our fields, our studies. Instead of eating lunch at our desks or in the cafeteria, eat somewhere new. Cultivate relationships with colleagues and classmates that excite and surprise us.

We should leave work at work, and return home to embrace the freedom that our personal lives bring. Don’t succumb to the couch and the allure of Netflix. Instead, invest time in that new hobby you’ve been putting off. Fix that leaky faucet. Plan a trip to a new city, or take the time to experience the nuances of own cities. Reach out to friends — old and new — and make an effort to cultivate those relationships. Spend quality technology-free time with family. Focus on each other. Appreciate the subtleties of life.

There is freedom in monotony. 

We just have to have just enough spontaneity to discover and appreciate the freedom. 

According to the “Prince of Paradox,” Gilbert Chesterton, monotony “has nothing to do with a place; [it] is simply the quality of a person. There are no dreary sights; there are only dreary sight seers” (Alarms and Discursions). 

If we feel the confines of tedium closing in, we need to change our points of view. Finding freedom in monotony can help us reinvigorate our experience so we can thrive throughout our lives.

Do Not Disturb

< Do not disturb >

In the year we’ve been “Safer at Home,” I’ve been using my phone much more often than I previously allowed myself.

As a self-proclaimed digital minimal-ish person, my overuse of technology feels very hypocritical.

If you, like me, are feeling powerless to the lure of your device, don’t beat yourself up. It’s a weird time. But, do take certain measures to make sure you rely on healthy methods of connection.

How to take back control of your device:

1. Keep your phone on silent when you don’t need to use it.

2. Enable Do Not Disturb Mode for evening hours.

3. Make use of Airplane Mode even when you’re not on an airplane. This saves battery and reduces harm to our minds and bodies.

4. If you have it, enable Nighttime Mode to reduce blue light exposure. The idea here is that exposing ourselves to too much blue light can adversely effect sleep.

5. Choose to read a book instead of using a phone before bed. Screens block melatonin secretion. Melatonin is a hormone essential for sleep. When we use our phones before bed, we don't feel tired; instead, we feel activated and awake. Our quality of sleep can be improved when we choose to do something else other than reach for our phones.

6. Seek out fulfilling ways to connect with family and friends. We can set up a socially-distanced get together in an outdoor space; we could use the “phone” capability of our phones to actually call family and friends instead of text messaging. We can also schedule video calls at a time when blue light exposure won’t mess with sleep; or, we can create and send handwritten letters or little care packages to loved ones: it’s a great way to maintain and rejuvenate important relationships.

How do you create distance between yourself and your phone?

Start Where You Are

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. - Arthur Ashe

This sentiment can be applied to so many areas of life, and I could get quite deep about all the ways it’s resonated with me, but for now I’d like to talk about pizza.

Mmm. Pizza...

Most recently “use what you have, do what you can...” related to the enhancement of a plain, inexpensive frozen pizza.

Josh and I often take an old, freezer-burned pizza and cover it with a bunch of random stuff from the fridge.

This is a practical way to use up leftovers, and it’s a great toddler activity too, as adding toppings is a simple way to give kids ownership of their food, and makes them more excited to eat it.

Our makeshift efforts made a super-boring frozen pizza into something much more palatable, and we didn’t break the bank to acquire it! It’s financial minimalism at its best.

How have you “used what you have” lately?

💚Ali

Hide and Seek

“Hide and seek”

Almost three. I love this age. It’s a season of unbridled creativity, a time of endless questions, a period of non-stop silliness.

Miles wants to help with everything, or do it himself, which leads to a learning experience (aka giant fun mess.)

Sometimes he crawls into our bed at 5 am, puts his arm around my head, and strokes my hair, humming “twinkle twinkle little star.”

He often tells me “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Momma.”

Some days he even says, “Momma, you’re my best friend.” Other days it’s Dad. And recently, his best friend is Fig from Tumble Leaf.

He is magic, and he is my firstborn. I can’t believe I’m entrusted with his sweet spirit for the time being.

Parents, what is your favorite season of childhood so far?

💚Ali

Coffee and Conversation

One of my first students gave me this coffee mug. This particular mug has survived many rounds of decluttering, many cross country moves, and has held many varieties of caffeine.

This mug reminds me of my time as a high school English teacher, a time when I reached many hundreds of students who passed through my classes. I introduced them to books and material that pushed the limits of traditional academia. I taught them to think critically and defend their opinions with evidence. I showed them the realities of the literary world and how some people didn’t think all voices should be heard.

I’m always amazed to see which books have been banned, or are currently banned in school districts. Of particular interest is why they were banned in the first place, and at what point in history. Why repress a particular voice at a particular time? Is it similar to what’s currently known as Cancel Culture?

I’m reminded of a quote by Oscar Wilde: “The books that the world calls immoral are books that show its own shame.”

In my most recent classroom, which happened to be in a private, Catholic institution where many things were banned, I taught my kids that it was ok to think differently. They had a right to free expression even though they had to conform to school code at all times. It was difficult, often subversive work on my part. After all, “what is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist.” (Salman Rushdie)

In my current life, I don’t get to read many books. I’m doing more laundry and cooking and butt-wiping than intellectually stimulating activities. But I have two sons. And you better believe they are going to grow up to become respectful critical thinkers who will uphold their right to express themselves freely, and defend others rights to do the very same.

Well, that was some deeper stuff than I anticipated. Happy Wednesday to you all. I need to heat up my coffee again for a third time today.

💚Ali

Why I've Chosen Plant-Based Skincare (and why you should too!)

My passions are rooted firmly in an essentialist lifestyle and in the pursuit of less.

Through many years of learning about myself through life’s ups and downs, I’ve identified the life I want - a life where I focus on my family, my health, my home, and cultivating meaningful experiences. A life where I safeguard my mental and physical health; a life where I help others do the same. Together with my family, I’ve cut out what isn’t essential in order to make way for what’s important. I’ve been in pursuit of less since 2013. 

Early on in my journey, I encountered a severe barrier to reaching optimal health.

I was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), an autoimmune disorder that causes inflammation around the spine, attacking the bones and joints, and can affect the arms and legs as well. AS also causes inflammation in the skin, intestines, and eyes. My symptoms included lower back pain, overall body stiffness, sciatica, and joint pain. 

After many years of doctors and medications, I began to see a naturopath who steered me towards plant-based living to lower the inflammation markers in my body. I had to drastically reduce the stress in my life, as well as eliminate dairy, eggs, fried foods, and most meats from my diet. I began to choose healthier options and plant-based alternatives.  I can safely say that I’ve been in remission from my AS symptoms for almost 4 years! It was hard at first, but now, 7 years later, plant-based living is such an easy choice to keep my body healthy.

Choosing natural plant-based skincare

I’ve either been pregnant or nursing for the past three years. During this time, I became aware that what I put on my skin goes directly into my body and its systems. As the skin is the largest organ of the body, I needed to start treating it with goodwill just like the rest of my body. 

I’ve always prided myself on my low-maintenance skin care regimen.

Since my youth, I’ve existed on facial-care samples, gifted holiday-themed lotions, and pilfered hotel soaps. Once I began growing babies inside me, I became more concerned with what I put on my skin, and I started intentionally seeking out natural, organic, understandable plant-based alternatives. For a time, I became attached to a skin care line which seemed to be natural; however, I could never read or understand the ingredients.

Then, I discovered Peak Scents. 

Peak Scents only uses pure plant-derived herbs, vitamins, and minerals. The products are simple and straightforward to use. This company uses plants as nature intended: as a complete resource for natural healing. Whenever possible, Peak Scents uses old-pressed, raw, non-GMO organic oils, vitamins, and extracts in their products. They never use chemicals or chemical preservatives, instead opting for food-grade preservatives. The ingredients are clearly listed and easy to understand. Peak Scents reflects my values and passion for plant-based living, which makes it easy to choose this skincare line. 

DeeAnn Tracy founded Peak Scents in 1993. 

DeeAnn Tracy

She grew up in her mother’s apothecary shop in the 1970s, long before the essential oil craze, CBD hype, and renaissance of natural and holistic healing. DeeAnn was incredibly inspired by her mother’s desire to heal the world with the power of nature. It was her mission to learn about the earth and how to use herbs the best way. DeeAnn and her sister grew up in awe of their mother’s close relationship to Native American culture, and would often accompany their mother when she consulted elders about herbs.

It was through these intimate experiences with Native American culture and the outdoors that DeeAnn developed a deep, appreciative relationship with nature. The peace and comfort of the earth was acutely palatable to her, and the effects of this were amplified as she met people in her mother’s shop who ventured from all over the world who sought nature’s healing powers. 

DeeAnn on the Grand Canyon

After a brief interlude where DeeAnn explored Western medicine and stepped away from natural remedies, she returned to Flagstaff to manage her mother’s store. She also began working as a Grand Canyon river guide where she again experienced a strong community brought together by nature. 

After a time, she began noticing how her river guide community was suffering from terrible rashes due to the sun, the wind, and the heat. 

“The sunscreen they bought in stores wasn’t cutting it. In fact, the chemicals in those products just made it worse. I saw this happen, and I knew that I could help…I didn’t see a business idea. I didn’t see my future. I just saw my community suffering from something I had the knowledge to fix. So I started making healing salves, passing them around to the other guides for free. As they worked their magic, I decided to make a sunscreen to share with them as well.” - DeeAnn Tracy

The more natural products she created and shared, the more people loved it. From there, Peak Scents was born. DeeAnn’s company emerged out of a deep love and necessity for healing, nourishment, community, spirit, and energy.

Just like DeeAnn, I’ve traveled on a path that led to me natural healing. For me, it makes perfect sense to choose Peak Scents products because they are completely in line with my personal belief that all people can achieve wellness through a compassionate and reverent relationship with nature, our communities, and ourselves. 

If you are interested in learning more about Peak Scents and DeeAnn Tracy, you can visit the company website. And, if you would like to purchase any of their products, please enjoy 20% by using the code EVERTHRIVE.

Together, We Thrive

It seems surreal that we must go on with our lives after massive tragedies.

It's ridiculous that we must continue making our deadlines, baffling to be sitting in traffic, indecent to be climbing a StairMaster, eating a chocolate bar, or writing articles online. Anything normal seems incomprehensible when fires rage across our wild spaces, when children open fire on each other at school, when bombs explode on marathon runners reaching the finish line, when deadly viruses run rampant despite our best efforts, and when tumors take over the minds and bodies of our childhood friends. Somehow, we go on living. 

When tragedy takes something or someone away from us, the loss creates a hole, an absence that is so tangible, so present, it actually takes up space in a room. We can give this loss energy for a while, and feel the loneliness of it, the weight of it, the depth and breadth of it. However, it is our duty to climb out of loss, and allow it to help us. We must allow tragedy to be a catalyst for change. 

Death and loss are teachers. 

Death and loss help us understand that life is full of beauty in its brevity. The warmth, the stories, the teary-eyed laughter, the exhilaration of the new, the stillness of the old, all these moments have happened before, and they are still happening now. We cannot give up. We have to be strong. It is our duty to continue to collect and feed these moments, and use them for good. The people, the places, and the memories we’ve lost have left us sparks, and we must turn them into fireworks by connecting with others, creating a crescendo of reciprocal interactions.

The inevitability of endings teaches us that we must choreograph significance into each moment, for the spirits that illuminate our lives dance and sing in these partnerships.

Together, we thrive.

-Everthrive-

Guest Post: What Donating My Embryos Taught Me About Letting Go

This is a guest post by Emily McDermott of Simple by Emmy 

What Donating My Embryos Taught Me About Letting Go

Two weeks. For many, it may not seem like a long time. But when you’re in the middle of the dreaded “two-week wait” before you take a pregnancy test, it can feel like an eternity.

It was December 2014. After months of baseline testing, my husband and I had been diagnosed with unexplained infertility and had gone through our first round of fertility treatments. It was during our two-week wait when I received an e-mail that changed my life: an interview with Leo Babauta introducing me to the concept of minimalism. In a time when I felt completely out of control, Babauta’s message was a beacon of hope. I could control something- I could remove what no longer served me and make room for what mattered most. 

Like many others, I started my minimalism journey with decluttering and pared down my physical belongings. I also became more intentional with my schedule so I could protect my most precious resources of time, energy, and focus. I felt myself getting lighter and making the physical and emotional space necessary to welcome a new baby. Over the next few years, I became a mom of not one but two boys and continued my journey to simplify and live more intentionally.

To Freeze or Not to Freeze?

In the summer of 2018, I received our annual reminder for the renewal of our embryo cryostorage. My husband and I had been lucky enough to have six remaining embryos after two rounds of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF), and knew that we didn’t want to expand our family any more. The question was, what did we want to do with the embryos?

Almost four years into my decluttering journey, I was in a good rhythm of getting stuff out of my house. From clothes and books to baby clothes that our youngest was growing out of at an alarmingly fast rate, I was able to let go without the doubt that plagues many: Will I regret getting rid of this? What if I need it someday? I was motivated to keep going on my journey by focusing on how the items that were collecting dust in my closet or drawers would bless someone else and that removing the excess from my life would allow me to live in alignment with my deepest why. 

But embryos? That was a different story. I knew intellectually that embryos were, at the most basic level, genetic material. But all “stuff” is not created equal. The embryos were arguably my most valuable possession. However, the implications for each of the decisions we were faced with - continue to freeze them at around $500 a year, destroy them, or donate them - were fraught with complications. 

Knowing that we didn’t want to expand our family, continuing to freeze the embryos seemed like an expensive way to procrastinate. Yet I knew several couples who, because of differences in their values and beliefs, could not make a decision between destroying the embryos or donating them. So they continued to freeze them year after year. Luckily, my husband and I agreed on moving forward with the donation process.

Three Lessons in Letting Go

I had never donated anything that required a psychological consultation beforehand, but it quickly became clear why it was so important. As the doctor explained, the decision to donate our embryos would have a lasting impact on our family’s future. At the very least, we would need to decide whether to tell our boys that they would potentially have up to six biological siblings. After that, our boys would have the option to search for their siblings through donor sibling registries.

Despite the complications donating our embryos could bring our family, our decision didn’t waver. Our embryos were definitely the most complicated donation I’ve ever made, but also the one that has brought me the most joy. Here’s why:

1. Blessing others takes on a whole new meaning when you have walked in their shoes. 

Letting go of something we own isn’t easy, due to the one-two punch of the sunk cost fallacy and the endowment effect. The sunk cost fallacy states that we hold onto something we no longer get value from because of how much we paid for it. The endowment effect causes us to hold onto something we no longer get value from simply because we already own it. If the item we struggle to part with also connects us to the past or reflects our fantasy self, it’s no wonder we struggle to get rid of our belongings. 

There has to be something that can break the hold that our stuff has on us. We need a deeper “why” than just making room in our closet. For me, it is blessing others who can use and love what I no longer need. This is why I choose to give through my local Buy Nothing group rather than large donation centers- I can literally see how my unwanted things are blessing my neighbors. 

We knew our embryos would bless local couples who were struggling to conceive, and this touched a deeper why within me. I understood firsthand the all-consuming desire to become a mother. I knew the heartbreak of miscarriage and the physical and emotional toll of fertility treatments. I knew the financial cost and the sacrifices they were making to make their dreams come true. Donating our embryos was a small way that we could help these couples overcome the challenges and pain we faced. It has been one of my most rewarding experiences, and compels me to continue to let go of what I no longer need.

2. When we let go, we release the hold of our past selves and the fantasy of our future selves so we can truly live in the present. 

Many times, when we let go of what we no longer need or what is no longer serving us, we are letting go of the hold the past has on us. My high school yearbook was a constant reminder of a period of my life where I didn’t feel like I was enough. So I let it go. A closet full of dresses I never wore made me feel wistful about my pre-baby body and career. So I donated the dresses and ditched the guilt along with them. 

Sometimes we let go of our fantasy future selves that do things that our present selves can never find the time to do. It may be the remnants of an unfinished project, hobby, or sports activity that we haven’t touched in years but we plan to do “someday.” Or perhaps it’s books collecting dust on the shelf but we don’t want to let go of because we think we “should” be reading them.

Perhaps we think that by holding something close, we can control the future and make things easier for our fantasy future self. We keep boxes of belongings from our deceased loved ones because we want our future self to find comfort when an unexpected wave of grief comes over us. Or we hold onto a toy that our kids no longer play with because Aunt Thelma might visit in the future and we don’t want to deal with an uncomfortable conversation if she asks where it is. 

Instead of freezing our embryos for another year and delaying the decision when we knew we didn’t want to expand our family, we let go of the fantasy that we would be protecting our children by removing this potential complication from their lives. We released the emotional burden of holding onto something we no longer need, so we could focus on our present lives.

3. If you approach letting go from a place of abundance and gratitude, you will rarely (if ever) regret it.

Before you attempt to let go of anything- from clothes you don’t wear to your grandmother’s china to your frozen embryos- you must shift your mindset from one of scarcity to one of abundance. Many of us have been culturally conditioned to adopt a scarcity mindset: there’s a finite amount of money, success, and resources to go around, so we must compete to get what we want. A scarcity mindset causes us to cling tightly to what we already have and desire more and more.

Conversely, an abundance mindset is one where we believe there is enough to go around and that someone’s success or resources does not limit our ability to have the same. When we focus on our abundance, we are grateful for what we already have and more willing to let go of what we don’t need. 

Many people worry that they will regret letting go of something, so they hold onto it “ just in case.” When you understand that you are enough and you have enough, you aren’t held back by regret because you know that abundance flows to those who have hands that are open to receive it.

Wonder and Joy

Sometimes I wonder if there’s someone else out there with my blue eyes or my husband’s nose. I wonder when and how we will tell our oldest that he was conceived in a Petri dish. I wonder if my boys will be curious about their potential siblings and how far they will go in their quest to learn more. But I don’t regret donating our embryos for a second. Because the freedom and joy I have found in letting go far outweighs the false sense of comfort and safety I feel from holding on. I encourage you to open your hands and your heart, let go, and receive the abundance waiting for you.

Emily McDermott is an Air Force wife and mom to two boys living in Fairfax, Virginia. Her blog Simple by Emmy chronicles her journey to a simpler and more intentional life. Emily helps moms of young children understand their deepest "why", banish decision fatigue, and make room for what matters most in her online course Moms Overcoming Overwhelm. She is also the author of the children’s book Little One and enjoys writing custom poetry, dancing, and eating peanut butter out of the jar.