How do you update on nearly ten years? Something like this.

Hi there, dear reader.

I created this post as a debrief of what I’ve been through since I was last writing publicly on the internet. It’s a short summary of what’s brought me to the work I’m doing right now, and also why I’m so passionate about this iteration of the mission that I’ve undertaken with my new projects.

It’s an interesting challenge to write an update after an extremely long hiatus filled with many years and much suffering. How much do I share? Am I “trauma-dumping”? Do you as the reader really need to know this stuff? Am I making everything about me, when I should be making it about you? These are just some of the doubts and questions that arise as I write, and that I try to see, acknowledge, and gently push to the side so my story can be of service.

Much of what I write, I try to be very conscientious to write it about you. To be super clear what’s in it for you, and how you can benefit from the content. I believe that’s the best way I can help.

This post, however, is the first in a series of me sharing my story and what I’ve been through. I know now from experience that sharing — simply telling the truth — can be as transformative as teaching a class or facilitating a 1:1 session. So I hope you enjoy these stories and take something from them that serves your life in some way.

If you’re even loosely aware of my background, you’ll know that I owned and ran a beautiful, successful Bikram Yoga Studio in White Rock, B.C., Canada. On the verge of opening my second location, I decided instead to sell it and pursue my writing career. I then became acutely ill with an obscure skin condition that nearly killed me.

Maybe the ‘killed me’ part is a surprise. How can a skin condition nearly kill you? There are a lot of pragmatic answers to that question (infection, adrenal shut down etc.), but the one that’s true in this case requires what these days is called “a trigger warning”. <trigger warning: suicide>

See, I was so sick, for such a long period of time, that I didn’t want to live anymore. As the years of acute suffering dragged on, I’d tried everything to get better and nothing worked. I was not living my life, let alone living it the way I wanted to. I was in bed all. the. time. Numbing myself morning to night. There were two things keeping me from making that awful decision: My ex-husband, who was un unending, unrelenting source of support and love every single day of my illness, and my dogs, who kept me company day after day while I was isolated at home, sinking deeper and deeper into despair and hopelessness. Without them, I can honestly say that I would not be here right now.

See, I was in pain all the time, without intermission. And in addition to the excruciating physical symptoms of this awful condition (topical steroid withdrawal) I was also hideously disfigured. My face and body were covered in open, deeply itching splits and scabs. My skin was hanging off of me like a t-shirt loosely draped over the back of a chair. My face was a deep, uncomfortable colour of red that drew stares and pity. I couldn’t do yoga. I couldn’t go away for the weekend. Some days I could barely open my mouth enough to eat the skin was so raw. I couldn’t drive for almost a year because the skin on my neck was so deeply traumatized that I literally could not turn my head. I couldn’t even leave the house. There are no words for the despair that I felt every single day. And it wasn’t getting any better.

Almost exactly 4.5 years after going off of steroid creams (realizing that they were the reason i was so sick) I decided to try one last thing: to see if the sea and the sun of Los Cabos could have any effect on my health. It was my last kick at the can.

It worked. Within 3 weeks, I felt better than I had in almost a decade.

At that point, I was faced with the hardest decision of my life: leave Canada for an extended period and get healthy again, or go home to my family and my commitments and stay sick.

I chose to leave.

Since then (2.5 years ago now) I’ve started my life over from scratch. And in that time, I’ve been working with creatives and entrepreneurs who are also navigating massive change, whether in their personal lives through divorce, illness, or trauma, or in their careers with starting businesses, ending jobs, or even restructuring entire brands.

I am now a trained Breathwave facilitator, and I host sessions at my breathwork studio downtown Cabo San Lucas, called Studio B. I help people do what I got to do when I chose my second chance at life: get in touch with their hearts, and figure out what it’s going to take to align with their souls. It’s deep work, but anyone who knows me knows that I was born for deep work.

I still have doubts. Pretty much every day, actually. But they’re slowly drying up, as I watch the sun rise most days over the Sea of Cortez, savour my sobriety, and guide people to create plans around their dreams.

I have huge goals. Big hopes. Massive dreams. And those are the people I jam with, and help as well. People with big visions, grand ideas, and a desire to make a difference in the world.

It’s honestly the coolest work on the planet, for me anyways. I am writing my second book, starting to create videos over on YouTube, and I brainstorm — both for myself and for my clients — every day.

I want to allow this post to be what it is — sharing my story — but I also want to summarize with an inspirational message:

No matter what you’ve been through. No matter how hard it’s been and how awful it was… you can start fresh. I won’t say it’s easy, because there’s way too many people saying that these days and I don’t agree.

However, there is a simple, step-by-step:

1. Decide that you’re going to go all in on yourself, your healing, your dreams, and the contribution you want to make to the world.

2. Get clear on what exactly it looks like (visualize — step 1 of my process).

3. Brainstorm what exactly it’s going to take, from where you stand right now (organize — step 2 of my process).

4. Map out a plan to make it happen, and then revolve your life around that plan, constantly iterating and re-connecting to your heart as you go (actionize — step 3 of my process).

If I can help you, cool. I will do anything I can within reason to do that.

But if you’re going at it on your own, and you want some inspiration along the way, you can follow along with my journey over here on instagram.

Not everyone can get after their dreams. Life is fucking hard sometimes. But if you’re in a position to go for it, I’ll be over here rooting you on from my little corner of the internet.

All in,

Jen.

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