Childbirth Education & Women’s Gatherings

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Be well,
Megan Alton

To contact Megan directly:
Phone: (831) 239-3872

The Creative Year: 2016’s Resolution

Looking back on past blog posts, the ones that I liked best were the 2013’s New Years Resolutions of twelve 30-day challenges. In that same fashion I’m challenging myself to become a better writer. My friend, Elizabeth McKetta, is a writer and teacher. She’s written a book called The Creative Year which is meant to inspire and prompt people such as myself. Working my way through this book is my plan for 2016 and I’ll be sharing it the whole way right here.

This piece is largely unedited. It felt good to relive this experience and remember it with warmth and happiness. Without further ado, here’s the first prompt:

The Creative Year
#1 Prompt “It was my ignorance that saved me.” (write for 6 min.)

Since I really only remembered my first experience through the stories I’d heard, I pointed my skis downhill and made it happen. My ignorance of what pain I might inflict upon myself saved me. Saved me from never learning to ski, and from whatever my inner voice might have told me about my ability (or lack thereof).

The first time I tried skiing was when I was 15. I had been once before, at four years old, and screamed down the entire hill while standing in between my dad’s legs. I vaguely remember this. So when Denise took me to the top of the main hill at Northstar in Tahoe, and the only way down was to figure it out, that’s what I did.

Pretty quickly I figured out how to shift my weight from one side to the other, and slowly flung my ski-tethered form from one side of the hill and back in long downward S’s. My body, being athletic, coordinated, and strong did everything I asked of it. Oh how I took that for granted! Now that I know how easy it has been, when I ski now after many seasons off, I am no longer ignorant of my body’s ability. Like riding a bike I can still ski, but my legs get shaky sooner. I know the pain of falling won’t be so easily brushed off as it is in youth. More so, I know the distress of weakness in trying to get back upright and continue down the hill on tired out of shape legs and a core that has been corrupted by pregnancy.

That first time down the hill, though, was a thing of beauty. I fell once, in such a dramatic fashion, that people stopped to ask if I was ok. I was! I made it down that hill out of ignorance, totally taking my body for granted, and it was wonderful.

& & & & & &

Now some cute pics for posterity. To see more of them find me on Instagram @meganalton


Photo & a Quote: Snowflake

Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes it’s fashioning hands. ~Thoreau    

Snow in Boise, right where it belongs – on the hills!  

Penny For Your Thoughts

Do you suppose a moment captured in a photo can portray a person’s truth in that moment? Or does a persons truth take more than a photo moment? This picture of Keala makes me wonder this. I wish I remember what was going on that got her attention, maybe her big brother getting ready for school. She most certainly loves to watch him, that’s for sure.


Time Flies

Time flies when you’re having fun.
Fruit flies like a banana.
~My dad

Long time no see! We’ve moved across town, had a new baby, and grew up a little. That’s pretty much the gist of it. Let’s get back into the swing of things with some pics, shall we?


Total Immersion Into Body Gratitude

This pretty much sums up how I feel on Tuesday nights.

Tonight after Body Jam (dance) I experienced about two minutes of total immersion into gratitude for what my body is capable of and what my body does for me. It was kinda surreal.

It is so easy to disconnect from my body, to think that it is another being that either does or doesn’t do something for me. But what I am, maybe, beginning to understand is that my body and I are the same thing. My mind and my body are always connected whether I’m conscious of it or not.

Note to self: Remember this feeling of knowing what my body is capable of. The immense joy that moving my body brings to me.

It’s so much easier to practice extreme behaviors and attitudes about my body, rather than find a consistent happy middle ground. It’s easy to either binge on exercise and food and self-doubt and negativity. Or go the other way: starve, be lazy, or push too hard into self-acceptance.

I think a life goal for me is to find a place for continuity, routine, and satisfaction. For both my mind/body and my day-to-day existence.

Step one is to start eating regular meals on a regular basis at the same time every day. Next is to start consistently getting sleep at the same time every single night. Then start getting 10,000 steps on the Fitbit every day. Eventually, adding more vegetables and superfoods, and eating less meat. And finally get to a place where I can five take five minutes every single day to sit in silence and observance. But, no matter what keep dancing.

If you’re wondering what it is I do on Tuesdays that makes me so extraordinarily happy, it looks like some version of this:

Goodnight Prayer

praying children

Growing up we didn’t have a specific religion. It was more like a buffet of world theologies. And that was nice. I went to church occasionally with my godfather Brian, who took that role seriously. I am certain that this is where my love for choral singing began. It was also an amazing feeling once I actually figured out how to read a hymnal. Seriously, it took forever.

For all of these experiences I’m so very thankful. I have a keen understanding of the Christian faith and can communicate easily with people who practice religion. Which is a super bonus because I live in a highly Christian locale.

I remember watching children on television kneel next to their beds at bedtime, clasp their fingers, close their eyes, and offer up daily prayers to God. Before prayer became so culturally blasé.

And then there’s always this little gem from Shel Silverstein:

Prayer of the selfish child

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep,

And if I die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my toys to break.

So none of the other kids can use ‘em. . . .



Knowing that my mom was raised Catholic, and would clearly know how to fashion a prayer off the cuff, I told her that I too wanted to say a prayer before bedtime. This prayer became part of our bedtime routine for many many years. Along with the final words of the day, “Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite!” Luckily, if you were concerned, there were no bugs and I was always awakened by my mother chiming, “Rise and shine!” In hindsight they were wonderful bookends to my childhood days. One day, when Porter sleeps past 5:45am I’ll wake him the same way. Someday.

I digress. I’m happy to say that I’ve been able to pass the tradition of a bedtime prayer onto Porter. He’s still learning it and we get to talk about who all of the people are in his life that we are sending blessings to. I love when he asks to say a blessing before we cuddle in bed. It goes like this:

Please bless
Mommy and Daddy
Uncles and Aunts
Friends and Cousins
Sisters and Brothers
Grandmas and Grandpas
All the world

photo (2)
Holding up 5 fingers, because he’s 2. Naturally.


Treasure Hike

We are looking to move closer to the foothills and to Luke’s work. We’ve put an offer in on a great house and in an attempt to create some good juju we went to explore the neighborhood. A few blocks from what will hopefully be our new home is a trail head into the foothills. What better way to explore, and get out into nature, than to go on a pirate treasure hunt and to save Bucky the (bath time) ship, swords and all.

pirate hike 3 pirate hike 2

Birthing From Within, Dancing For Birth, and Inclusive Women's Circles for Women and Families in Boise and the Treasure Valley

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