Tag: Womb Massage

The Perimenopausal Solo Traveller

The Perimenopausal Solo Traveller

Posted on by Leora Leboff

In her midlife, every woman deserves a chance to go travelling alone; just to test the possibility of rolling with “fuck it”

Phase of separation

The teachings of Red School tell us that there are psycho-spiritual phases of menopause that we move through. This knowledge is gold, and a way to keep us anchored and sane on the uneasy path of midlife shifting. The first phase we enter in perimenopause, is the chamber of separation.

What does that look like? Probably the most disquieting time of the menopause journey, because the call to be separate from, well, sometimes everyone and everything, can be extraordinarily strong.

Solo travel opportunity

This summer I was blessed to have had the opportunity to travel to Bali and Australia. The trip to Bali was to complete my teacher training in Womb and Fertility Massage Therapy. Then on to Australia to spend time with my beloved aunt and cousins. Circumstance meant that I was to be travelling alone, as my family wasn’t able to join me on my adventures.

As I hugged my darling ones tight at the airport, and walked through passport control, this midlife traveller was oozing excitement. The prospect of heading to the other side of the world, only having to look out for myself, was actually quite exquisite. I was fully embracing separation.

Easeful in separation

Travelling while in the phase of separation felt utterly easeful. I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s needs but my own.

Flying to the other side of the world and back did, of course, mean spending time in the company of the same group of people for an entire day each way. But, I was able create my own travel bubble, so that I would only chat if I wanted to. In reality, “fuck it” I really didn’t want to! Small talk with those around me was kept to a minimum.

The freedom was there to observe parents, often with an exhausted look in their eye, as they had to navigate the challenges of long-haul travel with their little ones.

Before perimenopause, the yells of other’s young children would have yanked at my heartstrings, but with perimenopause, there’s a shift. “Fuck it”. There’s no need to take on the screams and yells of the intensity the children felt at take-off and landing; I knew they were safe in their parents’ arms. I was simply able to offer the parents a supportive nod and understanding smile.

Mapping out my own space in the small, tight environment of an economy class plane seat even felt unproblematic. Sitting next to a couple of women chatting about Love Island, again I could phase it out and concentrate on my book, choose a film, do a bit of writing. “Fuck it”, there was an element of joy connected to only choosing self-care. Just to switch on relaxing meditative music to drown out the constant rushing sound of the aeroplane so I could try and sleep, was bliss. There was no call to think of anyone else’s sleep needs.

Travelling through I don’t know how many time zones, and only having to take care of my own discombobulation was a huge relief. The brain fog of perimenopause was going through several multiples of intensity. Could I have taken on anyone else’s jet lag? Phew, I didn’t have to!

Vulnerability

That said, I was travelling with an injury, which pricked at my vulnerability. Severe ligament and tendon damage to my ankle, meant a countdown to whether or not travel was even going to be possible. The vulnerability sat in opening myself up to accepting assistance at each airport.

The experience of sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed around by various strangers, was a true lesson in surrender. Surrender is the next chamber of menopause after separation. This meant dipping my toe quite deeply in this phase.

Not simply the practicalities of surrendering to my inability to walk long distances, but to the vulnerability that I found myself steeped in. The discomfort of being in a wheelchair was immense. Accepting help in this way, when in my heart surely I’m an independent, vibrant and very mobile person. It was a challenge.

The wonder and upside of airport assistance, though, was being whizzed through customs and passport control at each of the eight flights I took!

Of course, there was the physical side of perimenopause; the odd hot flush, interesting experience on a plane; insomnia; aches and pains; and a crazy-ass short 18 day cycle, all came with me on my travels. But I could breathe through each menopause manifestation, without having to concern myself with anyone else.

Nervous? Me? I don’t think so

Before I went away, a male friend asked me if I was nervous about going? I was quite shocked to be asked this question. Would he have asked my husband the same question? Did I give the impression that travelling alone was going to be a nerve-wracking experience? Was it a misogynistic expectation that I needed a man to make me feel safe when I travel? Was it other women he knew who may have been genuinely nervous about travelling alone, being projected on to me?

Was I nervous? Absolutely not. Even with the injury, I was only excited. “Fuck it” hey, we have Whats App and Facetime to stay in touch with loved ones now! Separation was firmly holding me.

While in Bali, as my fellow sisters gathered for our Womb and Fertility Massage teacher training, we did experience a few of the earthquakes that claimed far too many lives in Lombok. As the effects of the earthquakes emerged and the number of lives lost rose, my soul was rocked. But during the earthquakes, there was a definite feel of “fuck it” in me. If my life was going to end, what a beautiful place to transition; surrendering to mortality.

Gratitude

I would absolutely love to go back to Bali with my husband and children. For a different experience of family togetherness in a country that took my heart. And without the support of my husband, who took over full parenting while I was away, I could not have taken the trip, and for that I will always be grateful. But the gift of travelling while in the phase of separation was truly liberating, and an experience I will treasure as part of my menopause journey.

Perimenopause Unwrapped

To explore your own perimenopause journey through a self-directed program, Perimenopause Unwrapped is available to dive in.

Blessings

Wave Of Light

Wave Of Light

Posted on by Leora Leboff

Isn’t it strange that we live in a time when communication has never been faster, never been more immediate, or more intense; yet there are still so many subjects that remain taboo.

Baby loss is one of them.

Whether through miscarriage, still birth, termination due to anomaly, or neonatal loss. It’s hard to talk about and even harder to hear about. What do you say? How do you react? Do you open a conversation or politely change the subject?

On October 15th each year, the end of Baby Loss Awareness week, in honour of every soul not able to stay in this world, a wave of light is created. At 7pm your own time, we are invited to light a candle for an hour and connect around the globe. This is a huge step towards having the conversation, but gently.

What has struck me, in conversations, in work with clients, in reading courageous posts by others who have experienced baby loss, is that often we are encouraged to forget, to “move on”, to try for the next baby. It’s all part of the picture of discomfort and why it’s remained taboo.

But, without honouring every soul that has blessed our womb space, without opening the possibility of finding peace in our heart, how do we heal?

It’s nearly 14 years since my tiny Baby Harry was born sleeping, at only 20 weeks. We were given photos of him, and his hand and footprints. These stayed in a memory box, only for my eyes and the eyes of my family. They are treasured, yet painful, yet beautiful memories of a moment held in time; a moment that left it’s resonance for many years.

My experience of baby loss was heightened with losing my Mum to cancer three months before Baby Harry, and my Dad who died suddenly three months after Baby Harry. With six months of all consuming trauma and grief, I guess I was on a mission to healing, and in all honesty, survival. It’s almost unbearable for any one person to be faced with so much grief in such a short space of time.

My healing journey unfolded organically; the right therapists came at the right time. These are the therapies and choices I made; everyone will have different needs, so this is certainly not a blue print, but hopefully an aid:

Counselling – I was extremely lucky that the hospital offered a counsellor in the maternity unit for supporting baby loss. She truly was my lifeline.  I realise not all hospitals offer this, so seeking a bereavement counsellor is an opportunity to be safely witnessed in grief.

Homoeopathy – There were three bereavements to juggle. Often not knowing which one was emerging at any moment, sometimes all three hitting at the same time. But, medication was not an option for me; so working closely with my homoeopath was how I stayed afloat. Finding the right remedy at each stage of my process was her skill that I held with such gratitude.

Nourishing bodywork – connecting to the right massage therapist kept me embodied with my physical experience. so I didn’t lose that part of myself.

Nourishing food – But still holding the importance of a fine organic bar of dark chocolate and all the endorphin release that can bring!

Solitude – To allow the aching tears to release, to allow myself the space to sob and sob and sob, without explanation, without guilt. With each sob I knew this release was a necessity and didn’t hold back.

Exercise – I started seeing a personal trainer and started kickboxing – the endorphin release here was a gift and the rage had an outlet.

EFT – Tapping gave me the opportunity to work through the trauma in a way that wasn’t overwhelming. Working through episodes that held the most charge during that traumatic time.

Psychotherapy – During my next pregnancy, I was on a high all the way through. After she was born though, I entered an almighty slump. Whether it was Post Natal Depression I’m not sure, but I sought support as soon as I could. It was time to move beyond counselling and explore with more depth. The gratitude I hold for my therapist will always be so deep. After losing Baby Harry, my menstrual cycle had been truly nightmarish, with all consuming pain most months. It was my therapist who wisely suggested that I was reliving the pain of Baby Harry’s delivery each cycle.

Womb Massage – When my Womb Massage teacher lay her hands over my womb during my training, this was the portal to the most profound healing in my baby loss journey. After a few sessions, my womb cleared the traumatic imprint held of his birth, my cycle eased and the pain subsided.

Family constellation work combined with EFT – It’s hard to describe the power and resonance of speaking with Baby Harry and “hearing” what his words might have been to me. This has led me to a place of complete peace with him.

Honouring my baby – A couple of years ago, with guidance, I went to his graveside and held a little ceremony, which, due to the family constellation work, centred on forgiveness. It’s a peaceful place to be.

Menstrual Cycle Awareness – My life would never be the same after losing Baby Harry. Of course it would never be the same, just as with any huge life event. We inhabit a space following baby loss where we can run the gamut of emotions. There may be pure sadness, guilt, confusion, resentment, moments of acceptance followed by moments of all consuming pain. The list is endless and purely personal. Menstrual Cycle Awareness has been a source of guidance; when are the emotions most acute? Recognising that emotions arise and shift over the ebb and flow of the cycle. Perhaps the feeling of acceptance is present in the summer (ovulatory phase) of the cycle, only to cross over the next day to autumn (pre-menstrual phase), when maybe guilt and resentment take over. The awareness is a container towards acceptance.

My intention is to spread awareness of baby loss of any kind, and hope that the women and men this journey has touched are acknowledged.

It is uplifting, although painful to read, as more and more baby loss stories appear on social media. But a ripple effect has been created. Others are inspired to share, taking us all a step closer to healing the collective pain.

With the huge amount of work I have been open to over the years, I can put my journey into words, without tears. Instead, I have such gratitude to Baby Harry, and love for those walking a similar path to me.

I invite you to light a candle at 7pm for an hour on 15th October and bring about a wave of love and healing.

It truly is my honour to offer support to women after baby loss with Abdominal Massage, EFT, Aromatherapy and Menstrual Cycle Awareness.

A Bloody Good Reason to Fall for your Menstrual Cycle

A Bloody Good Reason to Fall for your Menstrual Cycle

Posted on by Leora Leboff
A Bloody Good Reason To Fall For Your Monthly Cycle
By Leora Leboff, May 8 2015 11:16PM
What’s all the fuss about? Yes, us women have periods! Live with it! Lets face it, it’s all totally inconvenient; having to make sure we’re carrying enough sanitary towels or tampons, you know, the ones that in the adverts turn us in to superwoman. Despite what those adverts infer, our bodies might actually be crying out for some down time, so that’s just more inconvenience to deal with and a real sign of weakness, so we feel the compulsion to power on.

I haven’t even mentioned PMT, just wait until that rears its sometimes hideously ugly head. Oh the frustration of our partner not throwing away the used tea bags or the irritation that woman in the office who’s chair wheels squeak every time she moves!
Perhaps it feels deeper than that, a critical voice in your head that once a month begins to shout a little too loud that you are not worthy of this and are rubbish at that and don’t deserve, well, anything that might resemble happiness.

If any of this sounds familiar, welcome to what feels like a harsh menstrual world.
But, here’s a radical suggestion. Your period, in fact, your whole monthly cycle is not the enemy you might think it is.

How do I know this? Well read on.
The relationship I had with my own cycle up to only a couple of years ago, was, quite frankly one of pure hate, resentment, and the will for early menopause. Yes I was literally wishing my life away, anything so that I wouldn’t have to struggle through yet another month.

I would bleed for about 10 days, with 2 or 3 days of the kind of pain that could leave me momentarily blind. Often I would be unable to get out of bed, as I would regularly manage to squeeze in a few disabling migraines. They would strike indiscriminately before, during and/or after my bleed.

Premenstrually, I would feel so horribly unwell that most months l would be on the verge of passing out. My joints would be painful, breast pain was off the scale, and the rage was, well, just frightening. And the self talk, oh yes, that critic, she was always on her worst behaviour. The whole world was against me…again!

Who would have guessed that actually that womb from hell of mine, would end up being a bestie? A source of creativity, a source of intuition and a source of trust.
All I had to do was care for her and the cycle that she was central to.

First introductions to my womb were made during my Abdominal-Sacral Massage training and deepened in my Fertility Massage training. It turned out I was holding a whole load of trauma in her. Receiving massage treatments and allowing regular self massage, my cycle started to shift. Bleeds changed from brown and dark red sludge to a beautiful bright red flow; I was clearing healthily each month. But most gratefully, the pain eased.
So began my quest of self discovery. Over the last couple of years I’ve been educating myself, making changes and seeing significant, heart-skipping shifts.

The most radical change of all was deciding to commit to self-care.
After reading Alexandra Pope’s The Wild Genie, I knew I had to grab the opportunity to learn from the woman who spent 30 years developing a form of menstrual care that is both radical and hugely empowering. So I did, and I have learned that with care, kindness and most importantly, awareness, you can tap in to this source of menstrual creativity. Keeping a track of my cycle was a huge part of this, noting daily on a chart has allowed insight in to how I ebb and flow as I move from the winter of my bleed, to the spring of pre-ovulation, to the summer of ovulation, to the autumn of pre-menstrum, back to the winter of bleeding.

As I write this, it’s during the heaviest day of my period. I’m feeling pretty dreamy in mid-winter, but giving in to the feeling. Actually I am finding it hard to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes, but it’s ok.
Look at that, no judgement or frustration, just kindness and understanding, and because of this, no pain. I haven’t pushed through.

I have invited my family to understand that I need to just “be” on this day and it’s made such a difference having them on board.
It’s about honouring each part of the cycle.

On Mothers Day this year I took my daughter to a one of my favourite crystal shops and we picked out a bracelet together that I wear only while I bleed.
I truly honour my cycle now and I chart to recognise when it’s necessary to show myself the most kindness. Long gone are the days where I was wishing for menopause. Instead at the age of nearly 45, I relish my final few years of bleeding, making the most of this gift until my time of transition.

As a gift, please download your own chart and to gain insight in to your own source of power and ease yourself in to self-care.
Blessings

Restoring the Soul - The Power Held Within a Mexican Shawl

Restoring the Soul – The Power Held Within a Mexican Shawl

Posted on by Leora Leboff

“A rebozo is a long flat garment used by women mostly in Mexico” This is part of a description that comes from Wikipedia. It is a sentence holding such simplicity.

I thank Wikipedia for this, as I am always in awe of the rebozo’s simplicity when I use them in treatments. In reality they are beautiful, intricately woven shawls, steeped in mystery yet imbued with Mexican history; a garment which allows for release and effortless give, but is also a vessel for a deep sense of containment and security.
It’s history? “There is evidence that the rebozo was worn in Mexico in the early years of the Spanish colony, but its mysterious origin is unknown as well as how it became part of Mexican identity.” – Frida Kahlo: Beyond the Magenta Rebozo by Simon Grimberg

Despite its mysterious conception, it is filled with Mexican tradition; the weave, the order in which the rebozo is created, the pattern, even the honour of being the empuntadora who makes and attaches the fringe at the end.
It is a garment which is integrated in to so many areas of life, “Women wear it casually or formally as an accessory, and use it in practical ways: to cover their heads when entering church, as a shield from the sun, to keep warm, to carry a bundle, to hold a suckling infant, or in any number of creative ways.” – Frida Kahlo: Beyond the Magenta Rebozo by Simon Grimberg

Image: From Made in Mexico: Rebozo in Art, Culture and Fashion

Conversely, the rebozo was used as a scented death shroud, “Aroma se luto…has a particular herbal and floral infusion that is prepared over a length of time in the dry season. The infusion consists of dried tarragon, sage, cloves, rosemary, Spanish moss, apple mint, star anise, cinnamon, rose petals and calla lillies. Traditionally, this very special rebozo was used to wrap the deceased for their journey to the after life.” – El Viaje/ The Journey – Birth to Death (Information from the Made in Mexico: Rebozo in Art, Culture and Fashion Exhibition held at The Fashion & Textile Museum 2014)
It was revolutionary artist Frida Kahlo who made the rebozo most visible to the world, rarely being pictured not wearing one.

Image: From Made in Mexico: The Rebozo in Art, Culture and Fashion, Toni Frissell 1937

Having chosen to work with these exquisite vessels of love in my massage practice, I asked a client how she felt after experiencing an abdominal massage, followed by being wrapped in the rebozos. Her response was:
“I have always felt supported and empowered…as well as humbled, it makes you feel ok in your own body…it makes you feel you own your body, it makes you feel you have no body, you just are, you’re pure love, all that’s necessary, nothing else needed”

Oh, the beautiful power held within the Mexican shawl.
Fertility Massage Therapy Teacher and expert, Clare Spink runs Rebozo Workshops for birth workers and body workers. I was lucky enough to help out at one she held recently. Being witness and part of what unfolded, will be a day in my professional life I will never forget.

We were in a room of women and one beautiful-hearted Dad, who spent the day there with his 6 week old son, so that Mum could learn how to use the Rebozo and breastfeed when necessary.
For the birth workers they were eager to learn the techniques to help ease mamas in labour, help encourage a baby who is not lying in the optimum position for birth to turn, and give a different kind of support to their birthing women. For the body workers they were there to learn techniques that would leave their clients with a sense of weightless freedom; loosening stiff arms, legs and necks, so that they could now be swung, shimmied and unconsciously released. It’s hard to keep up resistance once the rebozo flow.

The learning had been fun in the workshop and there was a buzz in the room, then something extraordinary happened.
The atmosphere shifted from practice to sacred ceremony.

We were going to experience part of the Closing the Bones ceremony, which has Latin American and Asian origins. Traditionally it is a postnatal ceremony for bringing a woman back together after the physical, emotional, energetic and spiritual displacement of childbirth. But, for anyone who has been involved in a shattering experience; a break up, a loss, or even simply at the end of a massage when you want to feel your whole body come back together and reconnect, being wrapped in the rebozo is beautifully containing.
Back in the workshop, the women divided in to small groups. Time and respect was given to each woman, as the others slowly and consciously performed the wrapping and unwrapping. It was highly emotional for some, releasing for others, but the majority felt a deep peace in the experience.

Most beautiful was Closing the Bones with Mum and her baby who had just reached 6 weeks. I was moved to tears as baby peacefully fed, had a little cough, an extra cuddle from Mum and then snoozed peacefully on her breast. We wrapped them, with care, all gazing lovingly at baby Solomon, held safely in his mother’s arms. Once the wrapping was complete, we stepped away so that the two of them could just be together; be contained and held by the rebozos. Mum and baby lay together peacefully connected.

We invited Dad to step in and help with the unwrapping, which he did with such nurture and respect. After he unwrapped her head, and she opened her eyes, he placed a tender kiss on the forehead of his wife as she realised that her man had been part of what had just passed.

It was mesmeric, so moving, and it consolidated how this simple but intricate garment coupled with the act of ceremony, could have such a profound effect on the recipient.
When I ask a client at the end of her treatment, “are you OK for me to unwrap you?” The answer is always a sleepy “Nooo”!

If you would like to experience the exquisite rebozo as part of a massage treatment have a look here.
You can find more information on the rebozo here

Blessings
***Special thanks to the ladies who kindly allowed the photographs of the Rebozo workshop to included.

Come and Meet My Good Friend Trauma

Come and Meet My Good Friend Trauma

Posted on by Leora Leboff

My friend Trauma? Really?

It’s an incredibly hard concept to fathom that companionship can develop with trauma. How can you possibly build a deep and comforting relationship with an event, a feeling, a pain, even a thought that has had such destructive consequences on your whole being?

Trauma is one very powerful force.

You experience the cause, you move through the shock, you may be left with the physical scars, but you’re also left with the memory, often developing into Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (in this piece, however, I wont be discussing PTSD). You try everything your conscious self allows to “deal” with it. This could be counselling, psychotherapy, medication, natural remedies, homeopathy, meditiation, healing, whatever you chose as your methods of care. But something remains, you just can’t seem to extricate yourself from the repetitive thoughts, the replaying of the experience in your memory, over and over again, until it becomes a narrative.

It becomes your story.

At this point the relationship may shift, it feels as though your story has entered every cell of your body and becomes such an intrinsic part of you that an uneasy friendship starts to form.

It might be a deeply uncomfortable bedfellow, but you begin to find that you can’t be without it. It gradually takes on a persona of its own and eventually you find yourself having the urge to say to people “Come and meet my good friend Trauma…”

This friendship has power.

Maybe it gives you an identity, a purpose; you actually feel safe with the discomfort as it shows you’re alive.

Beware though, trauma isn’t exclusive – trauma hooks up with a bad crowd – the leader being your inner

critic – you know the one who shouts, sometimes far too loud at you, and for women, mostly when you’re premenstrual, but she can pop up at any time! Trauma hangs out with her.

Sometimes it consciously doesn’t feel right to give up the trauma.

It’s too hard to step away from the friendship. How will I be able to feel after breaking up? What’s there to replace the strength of the attachment? Maybe I’ll actually feel lonely without this companionship. You may even feel an intangible connection that is almost imperceptible but far reaching, perhaps there’s a generational or even ancestral link that binds you to your friend?

This relationship can keep you in a cocooned world.

In a world where you don’t have to expose your true inner self. I don’t mean that self who is holding hands with the trauma, but the one who can fly, who can create, who truly feels life, sees colours in their full brightness, see beauty around them, the one who allows the world to be seen in HD, rather than through a slightly fuzzy-screened 1970s cumbersome tv. That self is kept hidden away.

But what happens when you want the friendship to end…?

I had my story, my own relationship that developed when I lost both parents and my baby all within six months of each other. I recall times, months after, when I had to just cry and cry and cry. I’d momentarily check in with myself – which loss was I crying for? The wrenching sadness of not having Mum? The deep emptiness of losing my baby? The sometimes debilitating disbelief of Dad passing so unexpectedly and suddenly? All traumatic events individually, but squeeze them in to a six month period and you have yourself there some deep dark trauma!

Sometimes I would just be sobbing from the overwhelm of all three. But with each sob, I knew I was where I had to be. Comforted by the trauma; my new friend sat with me as a cried those tears – not just for the losses, but for almost every sadness I had felt throughout my life.

The friendship deepened and sadly pervaded so many areas of my life that it almost stopped me growing. As my personal work on healing the trauma developed, the realisation came, that what had become integral to my being, actually no longer served me.

I spent years trying to free myself from the now unwanted friendship, but the companionship persisted.

We will each have our own methods of breaking off the friendship with trauma.

For me counselling and psychotherapy, and many other forms of treatment each eased feelings and emotions, but the friendship persisted. As my journey continued, Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT) or tapping and Womb Massage come in to my life. Both of these therapies finally facilitated the much longed-for break up with the wholly unhealthy friendship I had with trauma.

The dichotomy of trauma being an uncomfortable yet deeply reassuring companion is breakable. It is possible to see the beauty again and to fly.

I understand that this will not be everyone’s experience and I wish those who do and those who do not identify with this premise, a peaceful journey in your healing.

As I work with these therapies alongside my Aromatherapy practice, I continue to be moved and in awe of how beautifuly they allow someone to be held in their experience. Witnessing shifts, whatever the source, is so incredibly heart-singing. If you would like to get in touch and see how these nurturing and healing therapies can support you please do contact me

For a list of therapists trained in Fertility Massage click here

Blessings

Top artwork: “Moonlight Walk” by Lucy Calhoun

Lower artwork: Lisa Rough