Becoming Joyful from the Inside Out | Essential Oils
Parts of 2017 were rough for our family, mainly, Alexandra. In January of 2017 her sister was born, about a month later when I figured out that I couldn’t raise a newborn and also keep Alexandra stimulated during the day, we sent her to “pre-school” a few times a week and a month after that the young lady who helped us around the house and with Alexandra (so she was Alexandra’s best buddy) found another job. It was a lot of transition for Alexandra and she had BIG feelings that manifested in physical outbursts.
I’m talking extreme– she would beat us up. Bad. She hit and kicked and screamed and would get so enraged that I knew she was literally out of her mind. I could see when her senses shut down and she was on rage mode. I felt terrible for her and also for us. We even restored to spanking her which made it all worse. (Want to stop spanking your kids or just want to learn how a toddler's brain works, read - No Drama Discipline). One night it got so out of control and I was so scared and pissed that at midnight I Googled, therapy for kids. I needed help. ASAP.
Around the same time I was starting to get vocal about my Postpartum Depression and my friend reached out to me and she said, these will help you. They WILL make a difference. She was talking about essential oils and I started to pay attention.
Even saying essential oils felt super silly at first, but slowly I started to lean into the science and results and possibilities.
And it all felt overwhelming. There was so much information. I thought, “how do these people have the time for all of this!”
But I knew I needed help getting Alexandra to a good place, and I was going to use all the tools available. So we started therapy and we started essential oils.
When the oils arrived, we called them “magic.”
The very first night I remember opening an oil that my friend said would help my girls sleep through the night (both of them!) and that was huge, since I was nursing and pumping and oh so tired!! I pulled out “Peace and Calming” rubbed it on the girls' wrists and on their chest and VOILA! They both slept through the night.
And so, that was how we started. With sleep.
There are many essential oil companies out there, I am a fan of Young Living. My good friend who introduced me to oils is one of the smartest, most thorough, good hearted people I know. And that’s why I like Young Living, because she vouches for it. That’s plenty for me. She is a wealth of information and encouragement and I love that about my journey with oils. She’s also an attorney and doesn’t need my money to sustain her – and so I know that her recommendations are coming from an honest place – and that makes me feel good too! (Just keeping it real!!)
Back to oils.
I took the plunge for me and for my family and little by little we addressed things like sleep, trauma, jealousy, change, and once we addressed some big emotions, we started addressing our physical health. We began making our own vitamins with oils, using essential oils to clean the air, our floors, SO MANY THINGS.
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We use oils every single day.
My husband makes his own vitamins with oils! (Lemon, Black Pepper, Cinammon, Ledum, Thieves, Oregano, DiGize, GLF, Grapefruit, Peppermint)
I use Loyalty oil as a perfume. I say a little mantra, be loyal to your truth, and I go on my way.
If I’m having a stressful day, I swipe on Present Time Oil, it helps me stay in the present and just breathe.
Alexandra uses a special blend of oils, GeneYus, to help her focus at school.
During the day I use Lemon Essential Oil for my water.
During the day I run the diffusers with Thieves and Cinnamon to clean the air in our house. Sometimes I even use Orange and Tangerine. Yum!
I use an essential oil blend (SARA- helps with trauma , Release- to help let go of it all, and Sacred Mountain -Sacred Mountain promotes feelings of safety and knowing the world will always take care of you) and make a linen spray. I spray this on our beds before we go to sleep.
I keep an essential oil room spray (Pine and Thieves) in our guest bathroom.
Before a big work event like a keynote or even my TEDx talk, I lather myself in Present Time (to keep me in the moment) and Valor (to give me courage to shine!)
I keep a bag of oils by my bedside that I swipe on my feet and wrists and neck each night. Oils that are meant to help calm my brain and get me to a place of peace. Some of them are: Rose, Release, Geranium, Sacred Frankincense, Inner Child, Joy and Gratitude. They are crucial to my sleep.
At night I make my own mix of oils, depending on the girls' behavior and what’s going on in our lives, and run the girls’ diffusers. Sometimes Alexandra and Luciana need more emotional support (Peace and Calming, White Angelica) and sometimes they need help with head colds (Thieves, Lavender, Lemon and Peppermint)– it all depends!
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I just keep learning and we keep using them and we have seen incredible results.
We’re almost 2 year into oils and I LOVE them.
Oils are the first thing I turn to for a bug bite, a rash, fragrance, emotional support (they have helped me with my PPD, weaning off of Zoloft, when I’m pissed, when I’m scared and when I’m trying to raise my vibration) immune system support, and even for cooking!
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Let’s talk some more science.
In my TEDx talk,Choose Joy or Die,I talk about how if we are not consciously choosing joy, we are dying.
See how Joy is near the top and shame is near the bottom?
This chart depicts frequencies, vibrations. Good vibes vs. bad vibes.
Here's a crash course on frequencies (taken from Oily Por Vida)
✔ Every cell in your body, every single living thing, has a vibrational frequency. When we consume things that have frequency (such as plants which are living things), we can increase our body's frequency, which will increase our health.
✔ Healthy human body frequency: 62+ MHz.
✔ Illness starts at 57-60 MHz.
✔ Our bodies are receptive to cancer at 42 MHz
✔ Death begins at 25 MHz.
✔ Essentail oils have frequencies as well, which can raise our bodies’ frequency. They range from 52-580 MHz.
✔ One of the most important modalities of essential oils is their ability to raise our body’s frequency to a level where disease cannot exist.
✔ Processed food: 0 MHz, meaning it does nothing positive for your health.
✔ Raw, real food (things that are alive) are the only foods that will raise your frequency.
✔ The essential oils with the highest frequencies are Idaho Blue Spruce (580 MHz), Rose (320 MHz), Helichrysum (181 MHz), and frankincense (147 MHz).
✔ Coffee: Even holding a cup of coffee can lower your body frequency by 8 MHz (yikes!) Taking a sip lowers it by 14 MHz. BUT! Listen to this: When essential oils are inhaled following exposure to coffee, the bodily frequencies restore themselves in less than a minute. But if no oils are administered, it can take up to 3 days for the body to recover from even one drink of coffee. How crazy is that?
✔ Negative thoughts decrease our frequency by up to 12 MHz.
✔ A positive thought can increase our frequency by 10 MHz.
✔Prayer/meditation increase our frequency by 15 MHz.
We can makes choices to raise our vibrations! I think that's great news. :)
When I learned about this research, I really went into high gear with essential oils.
By raising our vibration with our food, positive thoughts, prayer, laughter, dancing, and even with essential oils, we are choosing joy. We are ascending. We are living a life of joy and vitality! And we all deserve to live lives full of joy.
If you’d like to get started with essential oils, send me an email (catia@catiaholm.com) and I’ll point you in the right direction.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
Shine your brightest,
The Courage to Become | Andi Franklin
What I remember, is the silence. The dimly light dining room. My knees on the chair cushion and arms draped over its back, clutching a $25 Target gift card I had gotten as an early birthday present. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.
I don’t know how long I was there, staring and waiting and convincing myself that he would show. But finally, I felt my mother’s gentle hand on my shoulder.
"Its time to go to bed, sweetie. I’m sure he just got caught up.”
Looking back, I think of my mom and hard that must have been for her. I think of how long she pondered what to say to her bright-eyed little girl who sat in a window all night waiting for her dad to show up and take her shopping for her 7th birthday. I wonder if she knew how far gone he was, I wonder if she saw it coming.
That night marked the beginning of my biological father’s exit strategy. I can only remember seeing him one other time in passing before he was gone for good. He never said goodbye. He never told me why. He was just, gone.
My mom explained that he was in the clutch of drugs and alcohol, but I wasn’t buying it. Deep down I knew the real reason he left⏤me.
This belief coursed through my veins and spread in my body like a cancer. Each year that passed I would get sicker and sicker, subconsciously convinced that his love was the cure. Meanwhile, in my conscious mind, I became obsessed with finding him.
The reason changed with each season in my life.
At the tender age of seven, I simply wanted him to come home to me. I loved him, missed him, and didn’t care about the rest. But as a new year turned, so would my feelings toward this elusive man. Emotions? I’ve felt them all. I think that is kind of expected when you are abandoned.
But what surprises me now, is how I let that single event in my life take the driver seat and dictate every future relationship.
My story of becoming, lies here—in the gaping wounds of a woman who spent over 20 years of her life looking for love, when love had been hers all along.
My quest to fill the void of my biological father’s love sent me down twisted, untended, shadowy trails.
It got to the point where I would push for young men to leave me around my birthday because I had convinced myself it was going to happen anyway.
Somehow, no matter what, I would always find myself back where I started:
Seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.
I would always see it coming, but I would sit and wait anyway.
The leaving. The betrayal. The heartbreak.
My deep longing for love led me into the clutches of manipulation. Young men knew how to work a broken girl, and one in particular was so skilled that it took me weeks to realize he had raped me.
“But did you say no?”
Yes.
“But did you try to fight him off?”
Yes.
“And yet, you still didn’t realize you had been raped?”
No.
Trauma has a funny way of doing that to a person. Especially when it roots back to your childhood and incessant need to be loved.
Fortunately, I clawed my way out of that hell and found myself on the other side. The side that could sit in a space with other women who had gone through it and say, “me too, and I’m here for you.”
I met a man who wasn’t afraid of me and my baggage. A man who refused to leave me around my birthday, despite my many attempts to sway him otherwise.
We fell in love, got married, and therein lies the happy ending, right?
I sure thought so.
I had actively convinced myself that I was cured.
Healed! Praise Jesus, Hallelujah!
I thought the void had been filled and I went on with my merry way with life.
Until the day I finally had to come face to face with him.
Meeting my biological father again for the first time in 18 years was terrifying.
It was my grandfather’s 80th birthday and my father had been clean and sober for about six months, so the family allowed him to come to the event and notified us that he would be there.
I was five months pregnant with my first son.
Palms sweaty, face flushed.
Don’t you cry, Andrea. You’ve gotta stay strong for your brother.
I brought a notebook full of letters, songs, and poems I had written to him throughout the years. I was going to give it to him and show him the pain he had caused.
But when I saw him, I couldn’t do it.
This man, so broken and fragile. Petrified of us—his grown children.
My heart no longer hurt for just me, it hurt for him too.
And so the notebook stayed with me and I left that birthday party, heart still guarded, but softened.
He managed to stay clean for another year and a half and was even invited to my brother’s wedding. Then suddenly, he was gone again. Back into the warm arms of alcohol and Methamphetamine—his oldest friends, and closest enemies.
When I found out, I decided I was done with him for good. I wiped my hands clean, threw them in the air, and proclaimed that I was whole, and didn’t need him.
And yet, no matter what, I would always find myself back where I started:
Seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.
Three and a half years had passed since I had seen or heard from him and then, my grandpa died.
I knew he would be at his father’s funeral, but I also knew he was on drugs and I was terrified of seeing him like that.
I stepped out of the truck at Green Acres Cemetery, not knowing what to expect.
Palms sweaty, face flushed.
Don’t you cry, Andrea. You’ve gotta stay strong for your brother.
But he never showed. And it was there, at the celebration of my grandpa’s life, that my becoming shifted.
I found out from my cousin that my father was homeless, living on a dirt road somewhere in the desert.
A rumble stirred within me.
Homeless.
I couldn’t accept this. I heard it echoing in my mind for days.
Homeless.
And so, I knew I needed to do something.
I talked to my husband and told him I really wanted to bring a care pack of sorts to my father. You know, toiletries and snacks and things that may help. I knew it wasn’t much, but I also knew it was better than nothing.
But first, I needed to know how to get to him. I decided to send him a facebook message and ask him if what I heard was true.
No response.
Then, an epiphany.
I was lying in bed next to my husband when I became.
I need to tell him I forgive him. Because, I do. I forgive him. And I need to tell him I love him. Because, I do. I love him. And I always have.
Then, another epiphany.
My entire life, I have thought that I needed his love to fill the void in my heart, when in truth, it is MY love that I have wanted to give to him this entire time.
There aren’t adequate enough words to describe this moment.
23 years in the making, I finally discovered my truth:
Conditional love is not who I am. My love is mine to give, and I don’t need someone to love me back in order to give them my love.
That, is unconditional love. And that, is what my soul has always wanted to give to my father.
I sent another message and this time, I told him I loved him and forgave him, without expecting anything in return.
Still, no response.
Then, I sent him this:
I just wanted to let you know that I love you. And I’ll probably tell you that every week from now on, whether you reply or not, because I want you to know that there is still someone living and breathing on this earth that loves and cares for you.
And every Thursday for the past three months I have done just that.
Since then, I was able to see him. My husband and I made the hour and a half drive to the dirt road he’s living on to bring him some things.
He’s created a house of sorts out of an abandoned trailer he found. He scavenges with his girlfriend and they both do drugs.
But, I still love him.
We chatted and laughed and I promised that next time we come, I would stay for a while and catch up more.
He will never be the father I dreamed up in my mind and he may never get clean and sober again.
But I’m no longer seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
Now, I am a thirty-year-old woman. Eyes peeled open, natural light flooding in, and a heart full of unconditional love that I’m ready to give, freely.
I’ll be there. I’ll be there. I promised myself I would love fully, so I’ll be there.
Essay by: Andi Franklin
You can find more of Andi's writings on Facebook, Instagram and on her website Andi Franklin.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide