Monday, September 21, 2015

{camp photo album}

the classic camp photo

Alright, all you mathematicians and problem solving whizzes, here's an equation for you:

What do you get when you hunker down in a secluded cabin in the woods + 15 strangers + paintball guns and a midnight dance party and other unmentionable things?

You get Camp Scabs of course!!

I thought ya'll might like a sneak peek into the camp photo album...

Disclaimer: Photos and visual content are copyrighted and owned by Eat My Scabs blog.  
Photos may be used with Camps Scabs credit and link.  Photos by Jill Candland Photography.
Photos were all used with permission of campers.

First, the food.  It was yummy, clean, nourishing.  Thanks to our top secret yoga ninja chef we were 

Wyoming is the most beautiful wild country.  
A perfect place to {become}.

 ...and then there was the yoga, the boating, the paintball, the 3-hours of silence and gut-busting giggles, the starlight meditation (insert a run-in with the Ranger) and lantern ceremony.  

There was, of course, the epic burning of shit and a midnight dance party (with a little whip and a little nae nae but I can't show any pictures of that).

So when is the next Camp Scabs?
We are in the planning process for two upcoming camps!

Upcoming pending dates:

Dec 30, 2015-Jan 2 2016, Phoenix AZ
New Years Bash: Camp Scabs Style
Yes, that's New Years weekend.   And, I know, we usually spend it with family and friends, but what better way to be reborn into the new year 2016 than at Camp Scabs?  
As usual, scholarships will be available. 

November 2015 (dates pending), SLC, UT
Such a lucky partnership!  Bloom for Women and I have decided to raises glasses and combine efforts to give you a retreat.  I'm excited about the details but for now, know that we are planning luxury, relaxation, food, yoga, 
laughing and work with lead therapist Dr. Skinner from Addo Recovery.  This will be a Bloom Retreat for Women hosted by Scabs.

If you're interested and want more details

Friday, September 11, 2015

weird cool aid

I've been nursing my Camp Scabs hangover.  No, not drug, alcohol or even chocolate induced...this is the kind of hangover where coming back to real life smacks you on the head and you have to run carpools, fold last weeks laundry and pull weeds.  Why can't everyday be like Camps Scabs and Christmas?

If you haven't seen the gorgeousness that is summer in Wyoming, you should!  I miss it!  And I'm terribly heartsick for brave ladies who camped with me.   But, most of all, I miss the wild west park ranger (with a mustache and a billy club) who tried to interrupt the chi of our starlight meditation.  I miss him so much, I left him a present--or at least the birthday girl left him a present (sorry, sorry, camp joke...bahaha!).

I can't wait to show you pictures and tell you more about camp but that will have to wait till Monday. For now, I feel like telling more of my story.  It's been almost five years since those nightmares woke me to the world I now walk.  It's time to put more pen to paper and tell the rest.

April 2012

Mr. Scabs takes a sledge hammer to my kitchen cabinets and counter tops and then to the wall. Everything is a disaster.  Destruction is always so much easier than creation.  Always.

Sitting on my stool I watch and then complain he isn't doing it right.  Especially when it comes to knocking out the load bearing wall.  I'm nervous.   Whether I'm awake or asleep my mind plays a reel of wood splintering crashes, ceilings caving in, plaster cracking and my house falling into a pile of earthquake worthy rubble.  Mr Scabs destructive force in my life and in my house is trauma inducing! I talk about it with my shrink.  It unsettles me while I try to ground my yoga practice.  It follows me to 12-step.  I second-guess everything.  Nothing feels solid.  At any moment my marriage and my house could be a pile of broken bricks and splintered two-by-fours.

If you've never walked into a 12-step group it's like landing on another planet.  Not a familiar planet in our galaxy like Jupiter or Venus, but some outrageous planet found on the other side of a black hole where up is down and down is up.  Even the air is different.  No matter how many times I go, it still feels like another planet.  The 12-step culture is so strange and so foreign.

What's said here, stays here.

Then the group cheers HERE! HERE!

I didn't understood the cheering bit and so I didn't add my voice.  Life makes more sense to me when it's buffet style: choosing what interests me and leaving what doesn't.  The chants didn't interest me but the challenge did.

Step One: Admit powerlessness

Powerlessness seems like the opposite of what I should do in the wake of Mr. Scabs destruction of my kitchen.  What the hell does powerlessness even mean?  It sounds seriously dangerous.  A horrible idea.  When can I get started?

This is the moment.  Among the faces and tears of women I didn't know but already trusted, among the chants and weirdness of this other planet I decided to search.  I didn't know what I was searching for but I did feel the wanderlust of a fresh way to live.

And so, every week, I got in my car turned spaceship and landed on planet 12-step and breathed the strange air and drank the weird cool aid.  Here! Here! 

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