Wearing her Envoy hat, Alana Sheeren writes:
This is the beach at the end of my lane. The dunes behind me are my favorite place to sit and meditate, or simply stare at the ocean and hand her my problems. They’re also the best spot for hide and seek.
It’s a peaceful beach. Not a lot of people, even at the height of summer. Magical dolphin sightings are semi-frequent and we saw whales breaching earlier this year. I think Nancy might like it here, digging toes and fingers into sand.
It is home for me. And I am grateful to share it with you.
Isn’t she beautiful?
I met Alana on twitter around the end of 2009 or beginning of 2010. The first correspondence I remember having with Alana was when she posted a question about schooling young children. Having pretty definite ideas on that, and feeling safe enough to voice them to a woman I barely, barely, barely knew, I put in my 2-cents worth. A friendship bloomed from that little tweet exchange that happened lifetimes ago. So much has happened since then. So much grief, so much growth, so much glowing. Alana has been through so much – life has thrown things at her that would break some folks, and she has weathered them with grace and wisdom and an openness that’s quite formidable and moving.
She’s now offering her experience, her knowledge, her gifts of comfort and concern and support in tele-retreats, the occasional on site retreats, ebooks, and one-on-one togetherness. And it just so happens that today is the last day she’s offering her DIY Picking Up The Pieces at pay-what-you-will pricing, so scoot on over and help yourself.
Every Thursday, Alana hosts Transformation Talks, interviews with people she calls “someone who is a force for good in the world.” She spends about an hour talking to these folks about the transformative power of grief – and take it from me, you may not think so when you’re in the midst of it, but grief IS transformative. Alana never loses sight of that, and she’s doing all she can to make sure you don’t either. In whatever way you choose, Alana will hold you as you grief, reassuring you that there will be growth, that you will glow again eventually, and that grieving is a natural part of life whether anybody dies or not and that you don’t have to be embarrassed that you are grieving – that it can actually be a time of great growth and honing your intuition.
Can you tell I love her? Can you tell I love the goodness she’s spilling into the world? Go get to know her. Go snag yourself a copy of her DIY Picking Up the Pieces and sign up for her newsletter so you’ll be the first to know when she hosts another retreat. You can thank me later.
She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning.
Pull up a chair why don't you, and let's talk . . .