Haven't seen you in while. When was the last time you got adjusted?
You know how children love running around naked when it's sunny outside?
Actually, if allowed, kids would simply rather be naked anywhere.
They just don't have that filter set in by social standards.
Even my 11-year-old seems not to have this filter fully set in yet.
There comes a time eventually that we lose the art of loving nudity, loving our bodies.
Stay with me here.
The other day walking through Brixton (a very busy area in London) I saw a woman who looked totally depressed, angry, and miserable.
Her posture was horrible, she looked like she hadn't showered in a few days, and her body was out of shape by about 30 kilos (66 pounds)
I suddenly got all existentialist and thought,
"What happened to this woman? Why is she like this? What in her life lead her to this point?"
And then strangely, I thought about what her spine looked like and how it directly reflected what her life is like.
It's like I had x-ray vision.
Sometimes I feel like I have x-ray vision.
Yes, that's my secret.
I can see through your clothes.
I can see your naked body.
Like Superman and Supergirl.
(Why is she not called Superwoman?)
They have x-ray vision.
I think I do too.
Seriously though, when was the last time you took a good hard look at your naked body and felt carefree about it, just like when you were a little kid?
I wonder, when was the last time that miserable woman inspected her naked body?
It saddens me to know that people can get to this state, to neglect their health and their bodies.
Because when you neglect your body, you're definitely not going to look at yourself naked in the mirror.
And you're just not gonna care about your health.
My theory is that if you just start paying attention to your body, your naked body, by standing in front of a full length mirror and inspecting your posture, the way you stand, the way your shoulders slouch and the way your butt sags and tucks in, you're gonna notice some things that need changing.
If you pay attention and become more aware of your posture, especially when you're naked, you're more likely to do something about it.
Listen, I'm not saying you need to get into ship-shape, and look like Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Cindy Crawford.
I'm not even expecting you to like what you see in the mirror.
We all have flaws.
Not even Cindy Crawford.
But you have to start somewhere.
Pay attention to your body.
And then do a dance.
Shake that naked booty!
Start taking care of it too!
See you at your next adjustment.
— Dr MaryAnne
Holiday drama. We all experience it.
Parents or not. Something happens. And we all hope that when it does, whatever it is, it's minor.
Our holiday in Paros was mostly wonderful. Beautiful. Magical, with my brother and his wife's wedding.
Delicious food: runny, sticky, sweet baklava. Greek salads. Olive oil.
Beach. Sea. Sun. More beach. And more sun. Very hot sun.
There was an all-day amazing boat ride, touring the small islands and coves around Paros. An abundance of fun and adventure, swimming, snorkeling, and having a blast with super happy people.
... and lots more.
And then there was the drama.
On the third day of our holiday, after a long active day at the beach, we were walking back to the hotel and everyone was very tired. We all get back to the hotel, and my husband (who was waiting for us at the hotel) asks, "Where's Max?"
"Um, he was right behind us. Maybe he's on the hammock."
Nope. Nowhere to be found.
All hell breaks lose and mayhem ensues. Ten people immediately start looking all over the place for him. Finally, after about 15-minutes, but felt like forever, I see him. I was back where I suspected he lost his way, near the port at the center of the town, and there he was crying, being escorted by two policemen.
My heart just soared and I rushed to hug him and give him deep loving mummy hugs.
"It's ok, you're ok. Mummy's here and I knew I would find you, my brave boy."
We all got over it by the next day, and things were back to normal. All was good. (Deep breath!)
The next drama was with my youngest. Ana. She had her long summer dress on and was showing off climbing a little olive tree. She was only about 4 feet high up on it and decided that she wanted to be a super girl.
"Daddy, Mummy, look! I can jump down from here!"
Then everything instantly went into slo'-mo', and strangely, I just couldn't act fast enough. Within milliseconds I noticed that the back of her long dress was caught on a branch as she jumped off. You can imagine how it caused her body to do a face plant into the ground below. What was there was a ring of rocks, and her face just went SMACK! right on those rocks.
My mummy brain screamed (inside) with terror.
My chiropractic brain thought please no, not her forehead or her nose or her eyes. Please no.
I had no idea what was hit.
Well, we were lucky. It could have been ten times worse.
I swiftly picked her up and immediately saw gushing blood, to the point that she was literally spitting it out from her mouth. Actually, that made me instantly realise that the damage was on her mouth. That was good.
No head, nose or eye injuries.
She was cut quite badly, with a busted bottom lip, and sure enough as I suspected, a lost tooth. She ended up not needing stitches as I assessed, and we also got a doctor's opinion to confirm the situation.
That accident happened about ten days ago. And you know what? If you saw her now, you would have no idea that she had any crazy fall from an olive tree. Or any fall from anywhere. I mean, the day after the accident, she looked like a "Who" from the Grinch movie. Her whole mouth was totally swollen.
She's heals like The Wolverine from the X-Men. How did she do that? Well, first things first, of course I adjusted her every day. Can you imagine the impact that had on her jaw and head and neck? So yeah, a few adjustments would help a lot, not to mention how it would help her body heal well.
Surely, the UV rays from the sun, and the sea water with all the salt and iodine content helped with antiseptic properties. And for added measure, I actually had my sister, who is still breastfeeding her 13-month-old, donate some of her breastmilk so I could put it on Ana's cuts. Did you know how amazing breastmilk is for healing? Check it out! (It's also Breastfeeding Awareness Week, so read all about it!)
It did wonders for Ana's lip!
So yeah, she's totally great now. She's been great since she realised how brave she is and how well her lip and mouth heals.
I think she feels empowered by the whole experience. Taking away the drama and the fear about it helped her understand that she made it through, accidents happen, and that with proper care and attention, her body can recover and heal from almost anything.
That's the way I see it.
As for my son, well, we empowered him too by showing him the way home and with a plan implemented just in case, he was armed with the tools and knowledge that he's capable if he lost his way again. (Thankfully, he didn't)
Holiday drama. And how am I through all of it?
I'm good! I'm coping, and I'm strong. Fulfilled, rested, and ready to be back to enjoy the rest of our summer here in London.
See you at your next adjustment!
— Dr MaryAnne
Who am I kidding? Only myself.
There is no secret. Only real stuff here.
Last week I was stressed. I had 'overbooked' myself.
It wasn't the mildly stressed state where a tub of ice cream or a bottle of champagne could remedy the situation. It was the, OMG, how-am-I-going-to-survive-these-next-few-days-and-can-I-lock-myself-in-a-spa-for-a-month-and-disappear kind of stress.
Going to the gym is my catharsis. I've been improving my strength, I'm lifting more weights, and I'm getting in better shape. I love seeing how I grow and I love what training does for me. It's my escape.
(And to keep my body and mind going to help all that work together, I of course get adjusted regularly.)
But last week I had to cut my workouts short. I was only able to go to the gym twice, instead of four times. I had a seminar to go to. All the way out in Derbyshire. First time there. I was thinking, WTH is Derby? (Lovely place. Love the accents. Gorgeous rolling hills.)
I had to go to this seminar because I want to be skilled and competent in newborn tongue-tie diagnosis. (Excellent seminar. Definitely worth it. Now I'm confident that I can do that.)
That was Wednesday to Friday. Got home late Friday night. Totally knackered. Saturday morning had a full house of adjusting people. (That actually brings me good energy because I love adjusting. I get in the zone.) Finally, I got home, and gathered up my kids and the camping gear, and set out to somewhere near Southhampton, waaaaay out in the boonies.
My husband looked at me like I was crazy. He says to me, "There's 2 problems. 1. You are knackered and you don't want to go. 2. You promised Soph and you have to go." (My husband was never going camping in the first place, so the whole adventure was on me. Oh, and at the last minute, Max decided he wanted to stay home with his daddy.)
(SIGH. I kept praying for rain because I told Sophia when I booked the camping trip that if it rained, we weren't going. Yeah, forecast had no rain in sight.)
I came this close to throwing in the towel and giving up.
But, I realised what I had done, sucked it up, pulled myself together, and made the best of it. We jumped into the car and off we went. And we got there. I begged three of the male friends to help me put up my tent because by that time I was pretty much brain dead. I needed to borrow their male brains and male muscles.
(Thanks guys! You saved me!)
Tent went up easy-peasy. The girls were absolutely drunk with excitement. I plopped down on a lawn chair. And people were offering me some Prosecco.
Gradually I started realising that I was actually really happy that we made it to the boonies for this camping trip. I felt really good. My stressful week was turning out A-OK! In fact, I loved being away from the city, breathing in the clean air, hanging around friends, and enjoying the moment.
There was a lesson in this, for sure. I need to take on fewer responsibilities. I didn't HAVE to make all these promises. I didn't HAVE to pretend I was Super Woman. I didn't HAVE to do anything I didn't want to. And it was important for me to be totally OK with that.
When we got home on Sunday, I was so damn relieved I survived the week. And I was especially very aware of the fact that I stayed on course, kept my promises, and still made the most of it. I came out strong.
I had to learn the hard way though. I think my husband would tell me I'm stubborn. He's probably right.
(I choose to say another word: I'm unstoppable.)
But I also have to learn how to slooooow dooooown.
And get adjusted!
Do you ever stop to smell the roses once in a while?
Do it. More often.
We were dog-sitting last weekend, and on sunny Sunday morning I took him out for a nice quiet walk (without the kids).
I needed a break from the circus in my house.
At the neighborhood park down the street, I met a friendly woman who also happened to be a fellow New Yorker.
So, as you can imagine, we got to talking and it felt good to connect to her.
It seemed like she needed the conversation.
I'll confess: at first, when I noticed her walking up to me (we were the only two people that early morning in the park), I thought,
“Oh shit. Here goes. I have to be nice.”
But then I immediately realised how much of a bitch I was being inside and I chose to instantly take off those 'bitch specs' and gave her my full open and undivided attention.
I just cleared my ears, cleared my mind, relaxed my face, and started to listen to her.
I'm usually the one doing the talking (because I'm an extrovert and I like to be the life of the party), but this time I just let myself take it all in.
The green plush grass, the warm sun, that light breeze, and this very interesting 65+ year old woman. She had a lot to say about life. And I think she really loved the happenstance that I was also a fellow New Yorker. Even from the same neighbourhood!
She seemed like she lived a lonely life and just needed some company for a few minutes. And we ended up chatting for about thirty minutes.
What did I get out of this?
Well, as cheesy as it sounds, it's the simple things in life that make a difference for me.
People say, "Don't sweat the small things in life."
Yet, it's the simple things that can lift us up and open our eyes and our hearts.
And that's how children live. Every day. They live through their days moment to moment. Event to event. From one hug, one smile, one laugh to the next.
After that chance encounter with this former fellow New Yorker, I felt so much gratitude and appreciation for bumping into her. I felt so much more aware of who I am, why I choose the things I choose, and how I want to move forward in my life.
That clarity gave me a burst of energy and happiness. What drug does that for you? Hmmmmm, not one.
Living life in the moment, allowing yourself to have your heart, eyes, and mind open - that's all within your natural abilities.
Tap into that inner child of yours.
Smell the coffee.
Or the roses.
Let the inner bitch be there when you need it to, but then also be willing to let her go.
Oh, and guess what? Yup.