Accountability Coaching

Do you feel like you lack motivation?
You’re not alone.
Many people attend a coaching or energy healing session and feel inspired to commit to new healthier life habits – only to get sick, overwhelmed, tired or disappointed by something in their life again.
At that moment, their bad habits creep back in, AND they slowly forget what they were trying to focus upon!
That’s when frustration, irritation, anger and also binge eating or drinking kicks in.
And that can make you feel even worse.Let’s not even mention when you go 0-100 in 10 secs and let rip at your kids or partner.

The struggle is real – but you don’t have to stay there.


Accountability Coaching is a supportive service offered by Belle that will help you to stay on track and reach that milestone of 90 days – this is SO important when you are wanting to create REAL and EFFECTIVE change in your life.

The research is clear: 21 days to create a new habit
21 days to reinforce that habit
another 21 days to make sure it sticks and
another 21 days to make it seem so easy.

What could you become in 90 days?
What dreams do you have for health or well-being or career?
What can you imagine your life would be like if you could build momentum and have someone supporting you (and kicking your butt) along the way?

How does Accountability Coaching work?

You will do an initial 2hr session with Belle (in-person or zoom) in order to get clarity and set priorities; clear limiting beliefs, blocks and self sabotage to reaching your goals.
Then every week you will do a 30min coaching call via phone to check in, release triggers, and keep you focused and on track.
–> 3 months <–
12 sessions
self work
workbooks

Each week you will focus on smart, measurable and achievable goals. You will have tasks to complete that are easily added to your current schedule. This will help you to avoid overwhelm and burnout.

Could you do this yourself?
Of course you could!
HAVE you done this for yourself yet?
NO!
And THIS is why you NEED an accountability coach!

You already KNOW what needs to happen.
You have the SKILLS required to reach your goals.
What you NEED is someone to believe in you, to keep you focused, and to hold you accountable each week while you tick off your list of goals.

This is for you if:
– you want to achieve your goals in the next 3 months
– you are sick and tired of making excuses
– you want to plan, execute and smash your goals!
– you are a spiritually focused person who wants to combine their masculine and feminine energies to get into flow and ease.

Are you a HELL YES?
Get started here:3 Month Accountability Coaching.

Are you a MAYBE but need more info?
Book your Clarity call here:Accountability Coaching Clarity Call

The Wild Woman

 

I feel the call of the wild woman. She is whispering to me through the breeze as I write this laying out on the grass on a warm spring day. She is calling me back to an ancient time where women were revered and honoured as divine incarnations and wondrous, life giving creatures.  A time that was focused on respect for wild woman as the community thrived because the wild woman thrived. This is the call whispering to me on the breeze, gently leading me back to the alignment of me with my source energy.
I love the writing and work of Clarissa Pinkola Estes “Women who run with the wolves” and as I think about her teaching of who the wild woman is, I can see how she is showing up in all aspects of my life in this season of growth and change that I am in, but in truth, she has been there all along.

How do you recognise your wild woman?

She establishes territory

She finds her pack

She is in her body with pride

She is aware and alert

She is intuitive

She embraces her cycles

She rises with dignity

She retains as much consciousness as possible

(Clarissa Pinkola Estes – Women Who Run With The Wolves)

 

Long ago as we woman we lost our voice, our power and our spirit; as a result, our belly has started to lose its fire. Woman has snuffed the passion due to fear of rejection, fear of ridicule and fear of hostility against her.

Wild woman calls me to trust that it is safe to return to the source of my vibrancy again. When I was a child I was chastised for being loud, too playful, too showy, too sexy to the men looking on. I had no idea, but I started to think something was wrong with me for the way I looked and made others feel.

 I was encouraged to sit with my legs crossed, or at least with knees together. I was admonished by my own kind – a female teacher – at the tender and impressionable age of 10, for wearing make up to school. My eyes were rimmed with black as coal lashes and my eyebrows were just as dark. My eye lids were blushed with shades of pink and brown. The palette my eyes had been painted with was not of a make-up kit but created by God and I was somehow made to feel self-conscious and “bad” as I tried really hard to wash it off at the request of the teacher. When the teacher threatened to send me to the principal I cried out “but there is nothing on my face. It is just my eyes.” The teacher let it rest, but she didn’t apologise or step back from her anger. I knew in that moment that something wasn’t quite right with me, and that I needed to not stand out. And I was determined to find out what it was that made me stand out. I was also resolute in deciding that I would be perfect from then on, so that I couldn’t get in trouble. Perfectionism became my way of controlling my world.

I realised that my natural beauty and bright energy that shone forth was scary to other women, especially to those who had long since turned their back on their own wild woman essence. It made them uncomfortable and competitive. Subconsciously it also made them ashamed.

I felt from the inside the pull of my wild woman from a very early age. I loved to admire myself in the mirror and was often touching myself because it felt pleasurable. I would take pride in my appearance and I would be proud of the reflection I saw. I was told “nice girls don’t do that” or “stop showing off”, so I was confused as a child – I could feel the inner energy of pride, self-love and self-acceptance pulling at me. But was I supposed to ignore it? Was it some evil force trying to deceive me? Was I naughty? Or, was I simply under the authority of a woman who had ignored her own wild woman when she came calling for her?

I’ve felt the energy of judgement slam against me from many females during my lifetime. From primary school to high school, to the early years navigating the young adult world of bars and clubs. I reached for and sought out romantic liaisons while at the same time learning how far to step into new social groups before I attracted the viciousness of the female members.
This reminded me of a pack of wolves (or dogs) that were fiercely protecting their own males and after reading Estes’ work, I realise that my wild woman was making the other woman compete and want to fight.

I’ve received hostile glares and rejection because I am a stranger, a beautiful one at that, a wild woman who embraces her sexual fire and isn’t afraid to be consumed by it. But I had to choose between female friends or romantic interludes. One couldn’t possibly have both in groups (or packs) where the other woman who were not yet on fire.

My wild woman taught me early on that I never need compete for a man’s attention (she shudders in horror at The Bachelor), instead I trusted in the divine law of attraction. Knowing that if a man wasn’t into me – and only me – then he wasn’t for me at all. I made young men angry in my early life, as I was ignorant of the power I held, as they mistook my affection and kindness for sexual interest. I was called names like “tease” and “slut” when their gestures were still received by me with legs firmly closed. This made me even more confused and yet more eager to please and be perfect – which in turn made them angrier, as I was then “the full package” – but still my legs wouldn’t open for them. What was I doing wrong? I wondered.

If I can’t be accepted by the women for fear of competition or rejection, and I can’t be accepted by the men for fear of them hating me for their unrequited love….then to whom did I actually belong and where did I fit in?

As so I began to be a lone wolf and run without a pack. A woman without her tribe who drifted in and out of groups and relationships knowing her heart fully belonged to one man – of whom she’d never met, but had felt him calling her to him since she was a little girl.

Consequently, as I grew older and my fire was all but snuffed out, the more ignorant of their own wild woman my “friends” became. Telling me to stay in relationships (like they were doing), living day in day out in relationships that poisoned their spirit and dulled the senses. Their reasoning “you have made a choice” “you are married” and words to that effect. Slowly my internal fire was gone and I was still alive but mostly dead in spirit. My physical body became sicker more often and the lustre in my hair and sparkle in my eyes faded. My wild woman called me and at times my ears pricked up, my skin bristled and my lustful (creative) energy returned and I felt more like “me” (a woman I didn’t know but firmly knew was there somewhere). But it was only for short glorious moments, and then my fire burned out again and I further shrunk into that pathetic small version of myself that I had once scoffed at when I recognised it in other women.

The call of the wild woman is an ancient phenomenon; however it was my modern computer – more specifically – my laptop – that is responsible for helping me to find my pack and re-enter the world of the living. I had never owned a laptop before, and so I was only ever at my computer when I was working. Having young children meant I couldn’t spend hours in my office scrolling the interweb, so I could only ever search for information in short, distracted bursts. Buying a laptop opened a world that I had no previous access to, and from the comfort of my lounge and near my cubs, I was able to step into another world of spiritual growth and community and connection by one google search. I lustily read every page I could let my eyes land on, from magick to mythology to energy healing. My mind was thirsty for information and I drank it in, night after night after night. My husband at the time mocked me asking “why do you want to read that for?” and I would dumb down my responses and not let on that I was doing my soul’s work and I was changing. My mind and spirit were being nourished and I was blossoming again into the woman of inspiration and power that I had once been before.

Forums and community groups were my favourite and I loved the interaction on Facebook with people I had once known and then lost contact with. I was chained to my kids, the house and work through the day light hours but at night when the kids were in bed and my husband was otherwise occupied watching banal tv shows, I would hunt for information of the mystical world of quantum physics and the effect of speaking words of love over water molecules!

 

I howled to the moon each night as I lay in bed next to a perfect stranger, a man who had thought he had tamed me, but had no idea that each day I was waiting to pounce on my prey, growing stronger and braver and more resolute. I took more chances creatively and allowed myself to dream again – for my future and for my children’s future. I practices being intentional in meditation and exercise and food choices and I watched as my physical and emotional body began to be equally as strong as my spiritual body.

 

No longer a lone wolf, I had become a part of a pack of women who were independent, yet dependent on each other for nurturing, care and protection. The unknowing leader of my pack was singer/entertainer Pink, the fiercest of the 

wild women in our modern world. A woman who epitomises what it means to be a wild woman, who blazes the trail proudly and loudly and her energy ignites the spirit of others when their time has come to allow their essence to transition with the call. With her music as my personal sound track I left an unhappy marriage and took my cubs into a new home that valued expression; playfulness and creativity; which essentially breathed life and self-confidence into all of us again.

The wild woman doesn’t cry over spilled milk nor does she admonish her children for accidents. The wild woman soothes her child who is scared she has made a mess, and begins to make milk pictures with her fingers in the milk on the floor. The wild woman fully embraces her children who want to act like a cat, insisting on drinking milk from a bowl on the floor. The wild woman teaches her cubs to be comfortable in her own choices and encourages her to wear dress up clothes to bed or skip the bath and wear day clothes to bed “just this once”.
The older women watching on, who have ignored their wild woman, are horrified by non-conformity to rules. But this wild woman knows her duty to her own female children to keep fanning the fire that already burns brightly inside of them.

For a period I began dating again only to realise with every dinner or lunch or coffee the man I longed for and already knew in my heart, was yet to appear. My wild woman was ready to find her mate. But each time my heart was crushed or I laughed a heaty belly laugh at the ludicrousness of the dates I went on, I realised that something had to change. (I think this is where my Wise Woman began to appear – but she is a story for another time).  I made a deal with God “you choose Him and bring Him to me – because I am crap at this”. And I cried and cried and cried as I surrendered my heart to the One who created me. I had to learn to live without wanting to force anything, but to trust that my beloved would show up in perfect timing. I wrote a letter to my beloved and I used rich romantic tones, I wrote words I had never uttered to another man in my life. Somehow it felt strange yet familiar, almost like I had spoken them to him in another lifetime. I folded the letter, held it to my heart and breathed in what I felt like it would feel to embrace him. This man I attracted to me could not be just any man. He must be emotionally strong, yet vulnerable. He must be incredibly masculine, but in tune with his softer side. He must be romantic and an expert lover, yet teachable and house trainable, and he must have an unwavering desire for me. That is all.

Then I placed the letter in my bedside table – what would be his bedside table- when we finally met.
He appeared in my life six months later, as handsome and chivalrous and lusty as I had imagined he would be. I had dared to dream to find a man who would ignite a spark in me that only my man could ignite, and a man who would be the guard and protector and example to my children as well.

And so that brings me to present age, where I feel the wild woman sitting peacefully in the back ground of my true essence now. She ebbs and flows as needed, guiding me, helping me to create, to lead, to explore and to be adventurous. She teaches me that life is worth fighting for and protecting. And mostly she paves the way for the Wise Woman who always follows the awakening.

With my Wild man by my side we have created a rich and exciting life that breathes on its own and fans its own flame. I have chosen wisely the partner who will run freely with me through highs and valleys, always running at the same pace, and always returning to our essence when life throws us off course.

 

 

Do You Feel Disconnected from Those Around You?

Do you feel like you are standing on the outside,
looking in on your life?
Have you ever felt like you are numb to the
experiences you are having?
Do you feel all alone?

During our lifetime we experiences many ups and downs that make us feel disconnected at times to those around us – Is this you? In order to have a happy and peaceful life, it is necessary to feel a deep sense of connection to self and to others. Otherwise you are left feeling unsupported, and oftentimes scared and feeling lonely.

Feeling like you are facing life all on your own can be exhausting, and leave you feeling always drained of energy, or like there is no spark left in your body and mind. I have heard people describe it as like “walking through mud every day”. You KNOW you should be excited about life – you have everything you need most of the time – but something keeps holding you back.

Separation and Divorce (a bad relationship), death of a loved one, being fired or being forced to move towns/states/countries by circumstances, not living your passion and purpose, being in a job you despise can all make a person feel isolated emotionally and like no-one understands them, or could possibly know how they are feeling on the inside. Oftentimes well meaning people will encourage you to “look on the bright side”  or say “chin up, it could be worse” which is no help to you at all! In fact it makes you feel WORSE.
These thoughts and feelings are an indicator that you have some trapped negative emotions stopping you from feeling supported, loved and a vital part of this world.

How can I help you?

I can access and release hidden Heart Walls that are preventing you from emotionally connecting to others, and being able to connect with yourself. Have you heard the phrase “the heart wants what the heart wants”? This means that you are led by the Heart’s desires – but what if you cannot trust your heart because of previous life experiences of hurts and you have created a wall of protection around your heart in order to ensure you NEVER GET HURT AGAIN?

Using my Emotion Code techniques I can identify your protective heart walls and remove them forever – painlessly and easily!  You will feel more connected to those around you and more in-tune with yourself again – a very freeing feeling and putting you back in control of your life!

All of your behaviours and thoughts are controlled by your subconscious mind – when the negative emotions are removed, you will find that it is easier to make good choices and give up bad habits that have held you back.

Lose your Emotional Baggage  today by making an appointment to have your Heart Walls and Trapped Emotions released FOREVER!

 Make a booking for in-clinc or Skype consults by contacting me on the Wellness Consults page

Do we expect too much from our men in the birthing suite?

As a prenatal massage therapist of nigh on twenty years, it has been my privilege to work with thousands of women in all stages of their pregnancies. Each woman is approaching the birth of her child (whether it be her first or fourth) with the same thoughts and sometimes worries, “how is it going to go?” and “I hope my man can cope”.

Birthing has traditionally been “women’s business”. The term ‘midwife’ is actually from the Old English original word being spelled ‘wif’, meaning woman and ‘mid’ meaning ‘with’. Therefore the word actually means “to be with a woman”. To be a midwife is to be with a woman during birthing. Therefore technically men can in fact be midwives, (so it shouldn’t be so unusual to meet a male midwife!) but just because they can, does it mean they should?

In the old days women laboured at home surrounded by close family members or friends and usually an experienced midwife. Meanwhile their husband would be shuttled away to another part of the house or yard, kept at a distance whilst their baby made their way into the world. Predominantly prior to the 1930’s birthing was usually out of a hospital attended by a female midwife. Increasingly in the latter part of the eighteenth century male physicians are reported to have begun attending births for the aristocracy in America and England.

As so often happens with “progress” common sense was left by the wayside, as it was only once labouring women were given access to hospital that women began to labour alone for long periods by themselves. Interestingly whilst they laboured alone in hospital beds, they were being cared for sporadically by midwives who were overseen by a male doctor. I remember talking to my grandmother about her birthing experience back in 1946 and she left me in open-mouthed disbelief  as she recounted labouring alone on a hospital bed being told to “quiet down” as she muffled her birth noises with each contraction. Having attended a number of births myself, and gently massaging a labouring mama’s back, or whispering words of encouragement in her ear, I can only imagine the fear that my grandmother must have felt. To be alone, in pain and uncertain of the process of birth would have been more than I could have handled. There were no Dr Google searches or YouTube birthing videos to watch and prepare oneself back in the day. There was no “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” books or labouring techniques to read about. Women ventured into an unknown world of birthing with only the stories of other women to put the fear of God in their minds and hearts.

Once the pendulum began to swing the other way in the late 1960’s and 1970’s birthing with a partner in hospital started to become more common, which paved the way for a husband to begin to join in the action.

In some maternity waiting rooms lovingly referred to as “stork clubs” men have written journals of prayers (for a boy baby and the safety of their wife), emotions of anger and frustration at not knowing what was happening in the labour room, and reflections on what their life was going to be like moving forward. Men it would seem, even though they were now in the hospital, only had a foot in the door of the labour suite. Countless men feel useless and helpless in the birthing room, and just the pressure to grin and bear the experience. Some men even go so far as ensuring they are away for work, and “can’t get back in time” due to off shore postings or last minute emergencies. And for some this may just be a dreadful coincidence in bad timing, but for others it is a plausible excuse for not actually having to be in the room at all. (For more historical research see the work by J Leavett (2009) Make Room for Daddy).

Since the 1980’s when the overwhelming push to have men in the birthing rooms was at its peak (and subsequently became the norm), men found themselves in a pickle where they wanted to be there, but would prefer not to, but because it was “expected” they feel like they almost have no choice. Women these days expect and often demand their man to be in the room “just the two of us”, with thoughts of an intimate labour and delivery bonding the couple in birthing bliss. Delighting in the ability to enjoy back massages and diffused oils whilst gently swaying in a contraction-motivated movement to a carefully selected blend of the woman’s favourite music on their iPod.

In reality, unless the man is genuinely desiring to be in the birthing room, has a genuine interest and has read a lot about birth, attended a Calm Birth or Hypnobirthing class, he is probably ill-equipped for the noise, the blood and the intensity of emotion that is part and parcel of a birthing experience. A man who cannot appreciate the feminine power of a labouring woman, is probably not equipped for what he is walking into.

Many labouring women move from calm and well-mannered to a demanding ego maniac in the blink of an eye. “Get me ice”, “Massage here! Not there!” and even the most feminine and gentle of woman can be heard shouting expletives at her man just because he “got me into this situation!” Hormonal surges, increasing contractions, perceived bitchy midwives, doctors that are running late, “non-one is listening to me”, anaesthetists that don’t know how to move quickly and drugs that “don’t even work”, are all reasons why a mild mannered labouring woman will suddenly grow devil horns and get very very angry. For a man, it can be hard to see his partner in this state, when the natural urge he has is to “fix it”.

This is why I ask the question “do we expect too much of our men in the birthing suite?”

The role of a woman is to harness her feminine power and to naturally move with the ebbs and flows of her body’s unique rhythm. She will express delight and annoyance, as powerfully as she needs to in order to ride the timed wave of contraction after contraction.

The role of her supporters and midwife or doula is to gently respond, move,  remain calm and to offer grace in all the emotions she will no doubt experience as her body and spirit unite to birth this baby. Without this firm circle of supporters, a birthing woman can experience fear in all its forms, which is known to increase pain sensations, induce panic, reduce blood flow to baby and cause all manner of complications that upset the natural rhythm. Traditionally it has been easier for a woman to be attended by women who embrace their feminine energy and offer grace to one of their own.

A man in the birthing room is required to embody his masculine energy. He needs to stand at the door and take a breath in, knowing he cannot make the woman’s experience anything different from what it will be: a masterpiece of life showing the awe and wonder and power in one birthing woman. For a man to want to witness this, I commend him. But for a man wanting to “change” something, whether it is to medicate and remove the pain from contractions, or to oppose experienced medical advice, or to dictate to the woman “what she needs” I would beg to argue. In my opinion a man is required to stand still and breathe as the woman dances around him in her mysteriously feminine ways. He is to guide her as she wails against the deepening contractions and to hold firm when she declares she has nothing left. He is to be her sounding board and her rock, her safe space to cry and her sure place to rest.

So how does he do that?

By resisting the urge to “fix her pain” or to take away her suffering, and to watch in awe as she navigates this rite of passage into motherhood. Sure he can hold her while she is racked with another wave of intensity, and he can feel her shake uncontrollably as she lets her body move with the force of nature doing her thing. But he is not to get angry, impatient or demanding, nor fight against nature in her full power, but to remain calm and supportive throughout.

Can a man be expected to resist his (un) natural state, and embrace his masculine power in equal measure to his woman’s feminine display? I would ask the same of a woman – can she be expected to resist her (un) natural urge to “get rid of this pain!” or to “go home” and to embrace the flow of energy moving through her body bringing her baby into the world?

Only with wisdom from experienced birthing support people such as doulas or midwives or friends, or family who know the true value of stepping into their own power. Through reading birthing wisdom and practice of meditation and stillness, through quiet reflection on what it means to birth a child, from listening to stories, from watching others, and from an open hearted attitude to the experience of birth as a rite of passage rather than something needing to be endured and forgotten.

Can a man be in the birthing room? Of course. But the real question is does he want to be, and can he allow himself to become his masculine form as his woman becomes her exquisite feminine expression?