by Jessie Cooper | Jun 1, 2021
It’s been a little over a year since I started blogging. I was asked to start blogging by my marketing team to bring relevant information to our families. I was secretly waiting for this invitation because I’ve always wanted to be a writer and felt ashamed while thinking about “proper writing.” The invitation to write for you all quickly became therapy for me. The perfectionism that was holding me back was put down and writing has quickly become my favorite part of every week (outside of basement snuggles and coffee…).
When I began writing the blog I was focused on the services provided by Instructional ABA Consultants to support families of children with autism. I also wrote as a mama of two young children and one adopted teenager to let all mamas (and papas) out there know they are not alone. That even someone like me, an experienced clinician and CEO, has struggled with motherhood, tiny humans, and teenagers. Raising other humans is no easy feat and it takes a village of support and love. My hope was that my writing created a space of belonging for parents of both neurotypical children and children with autism.
Finding Myself During the COVID-19 Pandemic
As the pandemic hit in early 2020, I was not only burdened with running a company through a pandemic. I was also burdened with sheltering in place, taking care of my children, domestic violence, and the end of my marriage. I’ve alluded to the fact that I am a survivor of domestic violence. What I have not told you, however, is that I am one of the too many women who were (or are) not safe at home.
For a long while, I did not want to write this because I was ashamed. It’s not easy to identify domestic violence, let alone leave it behind. I was also fearful that anything and everything I wrote or said would be used in court against me. That by speaking up about my situation I would damage myself. There is much I will not say until I am ready, but please know this: I was not safe in my marriage. Neither were my children. I hold no ill will toward my ex-husband, but I absolutely believe abuse deserves accountability and that we all deserve to be safe. Writing about healing, alongside a community of support, helped show me the way out. I hope someday my writing will be a candle for others.
Shifting into a mindset where I can speak up (after 6 months of trauma-based therapy and more love than anyone can ask for) showed me that my current focus is shifting away from the original focus of my writing. I want to be able to continue to explore my own writing while not forgetting the part of my tribe who need online support for their children with autism and parenting. In a gentle way, I found it to be true that the content surrounding autism and parenting should be given to a writer who is currently more aligned with this topic. I also wanted to continue writing personally as a way to heal from trauma and live a life built in joy.
How did I decide what to do?
New Writings and Blogs
As usual, when I don’t know what to do, I went first to my gut, then to my team (tribe at home) and asked what to do.
This month my company will be splitting the blog section into two tabs. The first section will be for autism-related topics and family support. The second will be my writing, wherever that takes us. It is my hope that both blogs serve each community that receives them by being relevant to their respective topics.
Professionally, I continue as the CEO and owner of Instructional ABA Consultants serving children and adults with disabilities regardless of funding source. We have a clear mission and a badass team. Personally, I’m embracing the author I’ve always wanted to be and hoping my words bring peace, hope, joy, and connection to others.
May we all be happy, healthy, safe, and free.
Xoxo,
Jessie
by Jessie Cooper | Apr 19, 2021
I’ve written so much over the past six months about the importance of walking through pain, being at home with yourself, and shedding all that does not serve you. I’ve taken you through the woods, into the fire, up to the sky, and to my own awakening. I’ve shared the knowledge I’ve learned as I’ve put together years of research and first-hand experience. In reading my blogs, it’s my hope that my understanding of what holds us back and what can set us free serves you.
It’s not my intention to tell you I’m wise beyond all others; I’m human just like everyone else. I struggle just the same and what I write about each week is incredibly hard to do in practice. I’d like to spend some time writing about how I’ve managed to awkwardly walk the path I am on in hopes that it serves you. This week I’m writing about pain.
Recognizing Pain
One of the key things I’ve come to write about is the importance of feeling our pain. I don’t think I have enough time or pages to do this topic justice. You see, the brain is hardwired to try and escape pain and find joy. When pain comes for us, the brain says “ouch! Make it stop!” Society has given an incredibly bad rap to pain and people taking advantage of this have profited billions of dollars. But what if we let pain run its course? What if we listened to it? What if we didn’t spend our time and money on avoiding pain and instead spent our energy on holding, listening, and navigating pain? I believe if we did this, peace would come.
Birth is an incredible example of what should be beautiful in practice, but the world’s greediness has found a way to make a profit out of our pain. During my pregnancies, I knew that the medical industry saw the profit margin in creating interventions with birth and that unless there was an emergency I would refuse all interventions. I birthed both Henry and Declan this way. When I gave birth to Henry I was not ready for the magnitude of physical pain force contractions bring and I suffered for it. I labored through the pain and pushed him into the world. My Doula held me, yet still, the pain came. I didn’t have the skills to manage the waves.
With Declan I wanted to be ready for the waves, to know what to do. I learned Hypnobirthing from an incredible woman (Robin (tag here) and had a 22 hour, pain-free birth with Declan. Each time a wave came I settled into it, welcomed it, and breathed. When the doctor left the room I flipped on all fours and birthed my son by myself. Navigating the perceived pain as a wise messenger brought my son into the world in peace.
These two different birth stories are examples of what happens to us when we don’t know what to do with our pain. With Henry’s birth, I didn’t have the tools and thought the pain would end me (like really end me). With Declan’s birth, I knew how to care for the pain and that going through it brought life. So here is my first piece of advice to you; stay with it, whatever it is, even if it’s painful. Learn. Fall down a few times. Keep trying and learning. But do not let pain take over. Let it be and learn how to care for it just like a mother cares for the waves of birth.
Learning from Pain
My first tip for you, as I mentioned above, is to stay with the pain. Do not run from it. Do not be afraid of it. If you don’t know you are in pain or upset, take pauses every day and ask, “am I me? Am I honoring myself? Is this the life I want?” If this little practice makes you uncomfortable, I’m sorry to tell you that you are pushing through pain.
When discomfort comes, either in asking the question above or in sitting in pain, I believe a toolbox is needed to navigate it. Just like birth, pain can either overcome you or you can skillfully move through it.
My next tip for you is to learn how to nurture yourself and allow others to nurture you. These past 6 months I’ve surrendered to this and created more love for myself and those nurturing me than I thought possible. You see, we’re given this stupid narrative that we’re supposed to just handle life on our own and I used to feel selfish asking for help. This is absolutely impossible and maddening. Most people actually want to be helpful and kind; if they love you let them. I can tell you this made me want to jump out of my skin when I started letting others help me, now it creates a warm glow in my heart (OK, I still jump at first, then I glow).
How to Nurture Yourself
Some things I do to nurture myself are taking walks in nature, taking baths with salts and candles, sitting in front of the mirror offering myself love, writing, and meditating. If I’m spinning in pain, I want to grab the remote, a glass of wine, and slip away. I used to be OK with this. Not anymore. If I can’t offer love to myself I call someone who can and who will hold me so I don’t have to slip. More times than not it’s my sister but honestly, I have more than a handful of people I can call and I know will call me when they need love and support. We have created a judgment-free zone for each other and it’s magical.
This is where I want to leave you today. With step number one. Find a way to take care of your pain instead of pushing through it. What can you do for yourself (shaming is not the answer here) to deal with your pain? Who can you trust to tell that there is pain within you? Who will you allow to carry you when you cannot walk? Remember my birth stories? Sure, it was me doing the birthing, but it was also Nikki, my Doula. She rubbed my back and smoothed oils into my skin as I labored. I wasn’t there alone. I’m not here alone and neither are you.
Do not let the world take your money or life telling you pain is bad. Pain is painful, but it just needs a little attention and care. If you don’t do this you risk losing your life and damaging the lives of others. If not today for you, do this for me; take one minute to unabashedly step into your pain and honor it. Then next time do it for you.
Xoxo,
Jessie
by Jessie Cooper | Apr 5, 2021
Over the past several months I have taken a different approach to my blog and written as I walk through my own journey of leaving trauma. I am healing my own personal trauma and believe in a year of a global pandemic each of us can relate in some way. Last week, I wrote about finding the courage to have the spirit of a warrior. To learn how to see fear and guide her when you are called to the battlefield. I’d like to say more.
I used to believe that life was meant for fairytales. One, because I am an empath, so connection, love, and healing are my jam. Two, because the world inundated me with messaging that, as a woman, the path to happiness was true love. The world also bombarded me with messages about marriage, gender norms, who I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to wear, how I should talk, and the like. Never being one to like being told what to do I find it surprising that I battled putting this bullshit down for so long. Society and fear signed a bad deal with the devil.
I feel that I’ve written enough about society making our decisions for us. I think I could write for days; lists of examples, from the food we eat, the clothes we buy, our mannerisms, life goals, and the like. But I’d like to talk about fear a little more. You see, where society was a cosigner on this deal with the devil, fear was the primary signer. Fear is a very wise counsel but an awful driver.
Realizing Fears
Let’s put a face to fear. Say a grandma or grandpa. Now imagine a tiny, sweet-powder smelling, kind grandparent. I’m imagining my own grandma, who wore a dress and sweater until her passing day at 96 years old. This grandparent has years of wisdom to bestow upon you that you soak in every visit. Then one day, after another enlightening conversation, your grandma wants to take a drive. She’s so wise and wonderful, soft and warm, so of course you say yes. You pull up the car, ready to drive with all her wisdom pulsing in your veins, then your grandma asks to drive.
Speaking from my own experience, my grandma did not have a license or ever drive a car. If your grandparent did, you can borrow mine for this example (but please give her memory back to me because I cherish her). You pause for a moment, grandma does not know how to drive, but she’s so wise and just gave you all this wisdom to help you navigate the challenges of life. Deep breath. OK, why not? “Er, OK Grandma you can drive.” Bad fucking plan. Within five minutes you are in the ditch, the car is flipped, and sirens are on the way. Grandma, as wise and wonderful as she is, cannot drive the car. Fear works just like this.
Fear tells us so much about what we need to know about the potential of danger and harm. If we go back thousands of years, fear literally evolved to keep us safe. From the limbic system all the way to your taste buds. Just as an example, at around 2 year of age (when prehistoric babies would begin solid foods) taste buds develop a disdain for bitterness and seek out sweet food. The origin of this is so that when foraging babies would not eat poisonous plants. Smart little taste buds! Now we have an entire society built around this knowledge as parents blindly give sugar to children based on the food industry’s capitalization on this knowledge. See, more society in that example. Our bodies are so wise and fear lives in them to keep us safe. What fear cannot do is become a thought that makes a wise decision. Fear is grandma in the ditch.
Fear begs us to let her drive, just like grandma, because she is afraid. Fear does not want anything bad to happen to us and, to prevent a potentially catastrophic event from happening, it tells us grandma can’t drive. If we are not grounded in our own love and wisdom, however, we give fear the keys. My goal for all of us is to learn when fear is driving, but be able to place her gently back in the passenger seat. To learn to take her wise council as love directs the wheel.
Becoming Fearless
Life is not about fairytales and achieving the life society tells us we need. A life built on what other people want for us, which society says we should want for ourselves, is the quickest way to unhappiness. It’s also the quickest way to block your potential, gifts and contributions to this beautiful world. Think about it. If we set 100 grandparents without licenses free on the highway we know there would be some crashes. And yet, so many of us are either upset about our own lives or the state of the world. It’s not what we want for our lives. So why do we continue to live this way?
Well, if grandma was driving your car and you legitimately gave her the keys because you thought her wisdom would carry over to the steering wheel, would you blame yourself for the crash? Nope. You made a poor choice, you can offer yourself compassion, and learn from your mistake. The thing is, you need to be the boss of fear. To tell her you hear her message, you will bring it to the council of love, and you will report back to her for the next step of the journey. But there is no way in hell you are giving her the keys. It feels scary to say no to fear, just like it feels scary to say no to your grandma’s wish to drive. But it’s OK. I promise. You’re keeping everyone safe.
Life is not about being happy all of the time, that’s not a real expectation any of us can achieve. This I know to be true. If fear is telling you “wait, we’re not happy! do something else!” she is driving. Fear needs us to sit on the porch, hold her soft, aging hand, and listen to why she feels this way. To walk with her, hear the struggles and dangers she sees, then turn this over to love to decide the next course of action. Love is a wonderful driver. She lives in all of us, waiting to be set free and not limited by fear.
I am firmly planted in the belief that pain comes for each of us and is not something to be afraid of. We can stand boldly in our pain, feel it, and live to tell what we learned. When we do this, we access more joy on the other side of pain and fear than we ever imagined. This is the truth that society is keeping from us. You don’t need anything to be happy except yourself. Experiencing pain does not take away from your capacity to be happy. Joy is always on the other side.
Xoxo,
Jessie
by Jessie Cooper | Mar 29, 2021
Fear lives inside of us as a wise messenger, to tell us when we are not ourselves; to tell us when we are in danger. Yet unguided fear, as I wrote about last week, loses her wisdom and becomes a monster in her own right. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with Disney’s Moana, so let me give a brief description of an important part. In Moana, there is a scene where Moana herself is at a pivotal moment; she must defeat the monster that has been keeping her island and people from prosperity. In a swift plot twist instead of defeating the monster, Moana saves the monster who turns out to be the lost goddess of life. In our lives fear unguided is the monster. We are the lost goddess of life.
Understanding Fear
Fear begins with such a kind intention and true wisdom when it first presents itself. Remember the lion I wrote about last week? Fear tells us that we are in danger from either the outside world or from losing ourselves. The problem is, when fear is given free rein over our minds because we have not cared for her, she becomes the danger. We then feel madness and are never at home in our own minds. Unbridled fear drives us to always be at war.
This fear comes in so many ways but is kept alive with shame. Confused and worried that we are in fact in danger (if we don’t know how to guide our fear), we spiral into shame and either destroy ourselves or others. Fear is a monster when it is unleashed and unguided by understanding. Yet fear starts trying to be a wise counsel. When we don’t listen to what we need to stay safe, fear decides to write the narrative. I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking done with fear writing my narrative. She’s is an awful driver.
Fear Needs the Spirit of a Warrior
Over the last few days, I have been falling back into fear. I felt the signs and yet continued on until, at last, I cried with my sister and reached out to a few friends. My signs were that I was shopping, watching TV, scrolling on my phone at night, and drinking a glass of wine several nights a week. While all of these things may sound lovely (this is why I was doing them), they were in fact damaging because I was doing them to avoid discomfort and not because I was me. Fear had placed her hand on the wheel. She wanted to drive again. Luckily this ride was brief and I took the skills I have developed to stop fears reign. I soaked in a hot bath, candles lit, and asked my fear what she needed. Skills. She needs skills.
You see my life still has a lion chasing me. My body is still affected with PTSD from domestic violence and I only know how to prevent symptoms from climbing to a panic attack, not how to expose myself without being hurt. I have the strength inside of me yet I don’t know how to train fear to protect me. Fear needs a fierce spirit to protect me, to give me strength, to keep my heart soft and open. Fear needs the heart of a shepherd and the spirit of a warrior.
Learning to Manage Fear
Too often I’ve spent life just telling myself I’m OK because of the external world I create around me but am terrified at opening my heart. My heart desperately wants to be opened but cannot safely do so because she doesn’t have the skills to navigate pain and attack. My heart needs to know that when danger comes I will be her guardian. That I will listen and honor her sister fear. I am responsible for her and have treated her so badly over the years. There are tiny moments I fill her up when I know we can be safe. In the basement snuggling my boys, on the couch at my sisters, or when I’m at a meeting with my trusted team. I have a small circle where I can open my heart and fully accept love. And yet, when pushed into the world, the battlefield of life, I armor up in fear.
When I look to either my trusted circle, comprised of pretty much the best humans you’ll ever meet, or I look at those who have harmed me/others I see this same being. I believe this has always been my gift and curse. As one of my staff, Toshi, told me (see? best humans you’ll ever meet) when people meet me they give me their best because they see a successful woman in business they want to impress. What I see is all their potential and sometimes blindly look past their flaws. I do this personally and professionally. I am the chance giver. Or so I used to be. Now I openly look at each human in my presence and realize we are all bruised but whole. That it’s not my job to make anyone’s life better or worse but if my gifts can make anyone’s life better I will tell you I’m 100% in… but not at the cost of losing myself. I am responsible for myself, and my life. And you, my darling ones, are responsible for yours.
Understanding Pain
You see, life is not without pain. Pain will come. We will all be broken throughout our lives from heartache, grief, bullying, failure, and the like. But pain does not kill us. We can feel all of the pain and still move on. We can still live. We simply need to know how to protect ourselves in the absolute best way from real dangers within our lives and how to care for ourselves when all other pain comes. Fear is screaming at us to pay attention. I do not disagree with her. Yet her actions when we do not pay attention or have the skills to keep ourselves safe and loved are damaging. That’s how fear runs the show.
To provide our glorious hearts with what they need, we would all be wise to pop Wonder Woman in the DVD player (for you cool cats like me that like to watch actual movies, not streaming) and watch the goddesses train. This is what we need. Training. To be ready for the battles of life so we can stay, not become, the god/goddesses of our own hearts.
Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you ready to change things? Don’t you want to live the life your heart tells you is possible? Guide your heart with the partner of your wise mind. Look at the fears running your life and train them one by one. Train on how to let the fears that have no merit go and train on how to conquer the true dangers. Train to find your strength and to be ready for the battles that may come in life. When the next lion comes charging, do not be afraid. Be ready. Never forget, too strong for who?
Xoxo
Jessie
by Jessie Cooper | Mar 15, 2021
Over the past several months I’ve been writing to you about the courage and joy that come from walking through pain. About the importance of feeling our feelings versus shoving them down, avoiding them, or taking them out on others. Last week I wrote again about finding true joy; the moments that take our breath away in their simplicity. In writing this to you I’ve been writing from two different perspectives. The first perspective is from my own personal trauma going through a divorce. The second is from the assumption that a year into the pandemic each and every one of us has some level of trauma to unpack.
In writing from the second perspective I don’t mean to assume or project that each person is in trauma. My intention is to honor the humanity in each of us and perspective that, if you are struggling with the pandemic or any other personal trauma, to offer you the grace and compassion I offer myself. You see, I believe we are all worthy of the life we want. We’re far enough along in my writing that you know joy doesn’t come from taking from others or out in the material world. I don’t have to tell you this. When we strip it down to what makes us truly happy we find the God inside of each of us. She’s whispering, “this is the life I want for all my children.”
Will you listen to Her call? Will you listen to your heart? Your knowing? I’ve heard this calling in the wind many times. I’m no longer letting it blow by me or my life. I’m ready to do joy. I’m ready to live.
Discovering What You Want
What feels like months ago (but may be further back) I wrote myself a little note. It sits on my desktop where I see it every day. It reads:
I want to:
- Recommit to my own happiness
- Take pictures with a camera
- Turn the TV off
- Lighten my schedule
- Eat real food, drink less, but good wine
- Write
- Spend time outside
- Dance to the moon
- Disconnect my boys
- Cherish love every day
- Sink into my family & tribe
When I think about my perfect day it’s one where I’m totally unplugged, surrounded by my children, and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. It could be snapping a picture with a camera because my cell phone is down. It could be a walk in the woods or a fireside chat with Dametrius. Cooking food from the farm to my table. Dancing to the moon. Back down in the grass, eyes at the stars, boys against my chest. This, for me, is pure joy. This is life.
It’s such a simple list. Really. But when I read it to myself I know that when I do these things they bring me joy. These simple things take me home to my own heart. In coming out of trauma I saw these things as unreachable. Each time I reached for any one of them, more trauma came to me. I was told, “this is not for you, this makes you bad,” and slowly but surely I started to believe it. That is where I was losing myself. I was giving away what brings me joy. Sitting here now I know that love never asks this of any of us, and it certainly wasn’t asking it of me. It’s not asking it of you either.
Listening to Love
Love is born in our hearts and glimmers to the world. Love smiles in the sun as it sleepily peeks through the clouds every morning. It kisses us goodnight, slipping into the night light of stars. It says to us that no matter what may come for us on any given day, it will be there waiting for us. We are capable of harnessing the stars and living a life through this lens of love. Mamas, close your eyes and imagine that day when your body erupted and your babies were born. Remember their darling faces, nuzzled at your breast, and breathe that image in. That’s love. That’s joy. It’s been in you since the day you and your children were born.
Late one night, I tapped on Henry’s heart and told him, “Mama lives in your heart. I’m always with you.” He sleepily reached over and tapped my heart, “Yes, and Declan and me lived in your heart. Then you pushed me out & I was born.”
Yes baby, you were. We all were.
The more I take time in the quiet pleasures of life, the more time my heart swells and I realize how precious my life is. I used to think that life meant happiness all of the time. I know now that isn’t true. Hardship and struggle is part of being human. Yet within the same world where war exists, there are tiny baby snuggles and toddler giggles. The moon calling us for one more dance. We are made with strength to endure struggles but we are meant for joy.
So kick off your heels, pour a glass of really good wine, and snuggle up with joy. Make a list. What are your favorite things? No credit card swiped, no status gained, no other person giving or taking it from you–your favorites. Breathe in, breathe out, and chose to boldly live in real joy.
Xoxo,
Jessie
