Breathing Space & More...

Today I sat down with the intention of writing about my DIY holidays.  How this time of year my creative juices are flowing and I immerse myself in crafting handmade gifts, goodies, and arrangements.  As I started to write I thought I would feel some pride.  I am in the middle of teaching myself some new things, and making time to sit and create instead of shop, bake, or bustle around, seems like progress in the goal of leading a simpler life, right? But... then I took a deeper look. Underneath this creativity is pressure.  A pressure to produce.  My own pressure to produce. When I took a step back and looked at myself and how December goes for me, I realized that I always find myself in a creativity frenzy.  I begin shopping & making lists and then ideas start to percolate.  I think about what I could make instead of buy.  I decide to whip up a little something extra so that the gift is more heartfelt than a gift off of the shelf. As I tried to type, I felt a little sad.  

This time of year, I always find myself struggling to keep the holiday spirit as I contemplate my lists of things to do in order to get to every event on our calendar with all of the required food, gifts, smiles, and energy.  It is the same every year.  Every year I say to myself, "how could I do this differently next year?" and every year I find myself in the same place.  The holiday bustle is starting earlier and earlier and it seems like that only creates more pressure for performance. In my house I am the bah, humbug of the family.  I am not ready or willing to start thinking Christmas until Thanksgiving is on the books.  I usually don't listen to Christmas music until that day, and I don't get the tree or the house decorated until after that day.  I'm the scrooge who lives with a husband and kids that would (and do) listen to Christmas music year-round!  I feel guilty for being this way, but I also try to honor each day, and I guess for me that means l

I have been pondering how hard it has been to accept that I am anyone unique.  For some reason I forget, very easily, that we all experience life in so many different ways.  Maybe it makes life easier and takes some weight off of my shoulders if I tell myself that everyone has the same abilities and that anyone is capable of doing whatever it is I am thinking of attempting. I have probably been scared that when I accept and believe in my own uniqueness, then I will have to make sure I put  something special out into the world.  To embrace that would mean pulling back the security blanket that covers me with the words "just fit in" and that's NOT easy.  It has created predictability and keeps me from feeling exposed.  It offers the illusion that I am safe and comfortable. But, really what has happened is a lot of tiptoeing about; gauging how much to give or reveal, deciding how to share and contribute, questioning how things would be received before speaking or doing.

An inspirational way to display a neighborhood's gratitude!   Almost every night, over the past 2 1/2 years, I have made time to jot a note of gratitude.  It is one of the last things I do before I put my head on the pillow, which means it allows for a quick review of the day.  I run through the good and bad and think of what went well and what I want to let go of.  Then I jot a little phrase or word in my pocket-sized journal. Some days these phrases are simple and some days they are more profound.  There are days when things feel heavy and my note becomes about simple bodily functions: breathing, the ability to smile, walk.  And other days, it comes easy and there are more ideas than space in the journal.  I try not to judge these notes, just let the day be what it was and know that I found at least one light spot in it. Here in the North we have entered the season where each day can bring a bitter cold that makes it hard to get up and motivated.  During these stretc

be open to eye contact from someone passing by be open and offer a compliment be open to whatever comes around the next corner be open to letting your guard down be open to laughing loudly be open to wearing your best outfit on a regular old day be open to the possibility of singing off key and sing anyway be open to eating something new  be open to a splurge be open to a hug be open to quiet just be open What small shift can you make today to open yourself to possibility?

"Having an honest friend-one before whom you can dump all your heart's pockets and still feel that you are worth something-is a form of wealth that will buy you nothing but will give you everything.  -Mark Nepo Tribe is what Cheryl Richardson calls, "your soulful community" or "your chosen family."  These people are in your inner circle.  People that are completely invested in you.  They are running the race with you. The people that I would call when I need a laugh, a reality check, or a shoulder to cry on.  The small group that would know my dreams and desires and only want the best for me as I continue on the path toward those things.  They would keep me accountable and honest when I am reverting to old patterns or when fear is driving my decisions.  They would celebrate when I have a breakthrough, no matter how big or small. It sounds great and it is something that I aspire to create to enhance my life. These past few years, I haven't l

"You can't be that kid standing at the top of the waterside, overthinking it.   You have to go down the chute."  -Tina Fey I love this quote.  And I love Tina Fey.  She cracks me up and I completely applaud that she puts herself out there.   I pulled this quote out of a magazine, stuck it on the fridge, and forgot about it.  It then became buried under the school lunch menu, artwork from the kids, and a large magnet.  The other day, as I was recycling October and making room for November, I found it.  It was like I was reading it for the first time-how fun!   Sometimes this happens with little quotes or things that I read.  Something resonates, so I write it down and then later, sometimes months later, I stumble upon it and it strikes like a dart.  It hits home and in just the right place.  I am a huge over-thinker.  I read the books, I make the lists, I create the scenarios in my mind, I hem and haw.  It works great if you want to keep your feet firmly

This past Friday I took a trip to a Haunted Ropes Course at Eagle Bluff Environmental Learning Center. I know. Not only was it a high ropes course, but a HAUNTED high ropes course! What was I thinking?!?!? I haven't been on a course like this since my ninth grade Wolf Ridge trip, but it was on my adventure list and my sister-in-law was brave enough to help me experience it. The night was perfect.  The perfect fall temperature to be outdoors.  The evening light let us enjoy the view of our beautiful surroundings while we took deep breaths at each courage-gathering platform, high in the trees. I didn't know what to expect so fear was lying just under the surface, waiting for me to give over and think about it too much.  But, I also knew I could do it.  I was calm even as the rope swayed and my balance was challenged.  I just had to slow down and be even more intentional in my moments. We finished the course with a feeling of relief and empowerment.  A big high-five and

This week I have been reverting back to the old habits of do, do, doing. Man, it gets tough when I get in one of these ruts. I become consumed with my list and getting things done.  My day is run on high, my adrenaline coursing.  I push and push to get one more thing done.  I don't sit until the kids get to bed and then I grab a glass of wine and collapse.  Too tired to feel peaceful or content. What gets me to this place? Why do I let myself go this far? Here's what I know...   I have taken a break from yoga and moments of quiet.  My journal has only been opened to collect quotes that I will look at "when I have time."  My daily walk has been another thing to check off the list and is more about my dog's energy level than my happiness.  I am searching blogs and checking out books from the library for answers instead of listening to my own wisdom. Resentment and overwhelm build and build when I am in this space, which makes it hard to live with me.  I am

I started a painting class. I am starting to paint. Yes! And Yikes?!?! It has been something that I have felt called to learn more about, so I signed up for a very general class that welcomed beginners.  The first day, I found myself surrounded by a talented, patient teacher, three very senior-aged women, and a teenager.  It was an interesting bunch and I wasn't really sure what I was in for.  The teacher joked that the highlight of coffee and snacks would be coming in an hour, so, if nothing else, I could enjoy a treat. I wasn't prepared.  I didn't have any tools with, but the teacher was so gracious and soon I was spreading water all over the paper and starting to stain with red, yellow, and blue.  The older crowd diligently worked on their projects as us "young folks" were given lessons in watercolor and pencil. I was inspired by the work of the women.  I wanted to learn more about their lives and where in their journey they had picked up painting.  O

Yesterday I went on a field trip to the Science Museum Butterfly Tent with my son's K-1 class.  It was a joy!  It was amazing! The butterflies were crazy!  They were everywhere and on everything!  They were on our fingers, backs, hair, shoes.  They landed on benches and the ground.  Every move involved a double-check to be sure that we weren't squashing a delicate creature.  It was a big task for 5-7 year olds to be so careful.  The kids were patient, slow, curious, watchful, excited, and some were overwhelmed. I understood.  It was unnerving to feel the small feet on my head; the flutter right by my face.  It was a surprise when someone pointed out that a butterfly was taking a ride on your back and you hadn't felt it there. I wanted to document it all.  I wanted to capture the vibrance of the color, the flowers, and the joy of the children.  I watched my son with butterflies on each hand and one resting on his forehead and wanted to get a shot.  I wanted to shoot t

In the past two days, I have had two experiences with dogs and mud! Dogs and mud! Can you picture it? Black mud-coated legs. A black nose. Mud streaks. Mud-caked. Pawprints. Enough to make my head blow off with the steam radiating from me as I looked out and saw my pup proudly standing over the mud bog that he had made.  And then I found myself in it again!  This time it wasn't my own rambunctious, unbearable-at-times puppy, but a total stranger dog that I came upon on the side of the road! I ask myself how I got into these predicaments and I just have to laugh or I might give up and cry. In hindsight, I am certain that the lost dog was probably just out for his daily run.  I was the lucky sucker who thought he needed to be rescued.  My attempts to do a good deed led to a disconnected phone number, a failed attempt to keep him in the backend of my car, and paw prints everywhere!  He probably loved the excitement and attention and when I drove away in search of his hom

Last wkend, I ran my first 5K.  It came after a month and a half of training and a lot of days when I thought "how will I ever be able to keep going?" I have never considered myself to be a runner.  In fact, "I'm not a runner" would be one of those statements that I have used to define myself for a long time. So, when I pulled up to the registration table and received my t-shirt and number, I had to think again.  Could I change my statement now?  Am I a runner?  Is this something that I will continue?  Do I belong in this crowd and is running one of my things? I set this 5K goal for myself a while ago (even as I told myself I wasn't a runner).  Maybe it was a way to push my body and see how it would perform.  Maybe it was just another way to fill time.  Maybe I envied the group who could start their Sat. morning by running the local 5K.  Whatever led me to do it, it was another goal and I am pretty good at pushing myself when I set a goal. Now that

This past week, I finished a long overdue project.  I sorted and tossed two file cabinets full of old paperwork.  It was a big job that had been lurking in the basement, haunting me. I started weeding through it one day when I had a hour or so.  The short timeframe was a great way to get started.  It created an urgency that kept me from hemming and hawing over whether to throw or keep. I had to get realistic. With every piece of paper, every file, I asked myself if this was something unique and irreplaceable or whether it could be found in another resource if I ever needed it.  The answer to almost all of it was that it wasn't unique and yes I could find something similar if I needed it in the future.  So, after a couple of days of work, I ended up creating a full recycling bin of paperwork that left my house on Friday! As with any project in this house, one thing leads to another and soon I had moved onto other files, other piles, other stacks of unfinished business.  Pile

Today I received an email with a link to an online class, "The Science of Happiness."   It is an eight week course on positive psychology.    It sounds amazing and it's free and it has great guest speakers and it's on a topic that I love to learn about and did I mention that it's free??? I got excited. I just finished going through a book with three months of weekly tasks.  Homework that would help me listen to my creative side.  The book was done last week, so why not? Here's why... I have come to the realization that I use knowledge as a distraction to the actual living of life.  I love knowledge!  I love learning about human behavior.  I love reflecting and thinking.  I love having something to work on and being held accountable. So... the idea of this class is something that feels safe. Instead of taking a risk and signing up for a painting or dance class, I would have an excuse.  And isn't it good to "work on yourself?" But there are

"Envision your dreams down through your hands and out into the world." -The Book of Awakening This morning the routine of school began again.  It was a beautiful morning.  An exciting morning without a lot of rush or fuss.   Families gathered.  A beautiful poem was shared to kick off a year of new beginnings.  Two kids followed their teacher in to school with heads held high.   I left the school feeling freedom and excitement.  I felt open and ready.  I came home to begin my new year.   I sat down and pulled out my daily reading and read about a grandmother telling her grandson to envision his dreams down through his hands and out into the world.  The words were meant for this day.  A day to set a course of action and growth.  A day to take the dreams that were uncovered and see them move in the world.     Last year was a time to reflect, learn, dig deep, uncover, wait, take small steps, keep my eyes open, listen, feel, release.  It was a time of work.

This is the sticky note that is posted on my fridge right now.  It is the reminder that everyday I have a million choices and I have to decide what I really want to say yes to.  This mantra came from the the book "Take Time for Your Life" by Cheryl Richardson.  I took a course last year that involved working through the book, chapter by chapter, and being held accountable for the homework and activities.  It was a great lesson in digging deep and really getting to the core of what I want as my priorities. Having said that, here we are at the start of a new school year and again I am confronted with committees, activities, opportunities that might go against my priorities.  Am I ready and willing to say no unless it's an absolute yes?  Have I practiced enough yet?  Can I be gentle with myself when I get into a situation and realize that I threw my gut instinct out the window?  Am I willing to be courageous and back out of things that I said yes to but know are not

These past weeks I keep running into the same themes in my conversations and in what I read.   It is the notion that our culture wants us to believe that there is a "perfect recipe" for parenting and how much trouble this creates when you look at the reality of life. The idea that there is a "right" way to parent is something that I struggle with as I raise my two kids.  The pressure to keep it all together and produce well-rounded, successful, polite, obedient children is enormous in our culture! Before they were even born I was reading about their development and making sure that I had all the necessary supplies.  Then I was reading to see what the experts said about schedules, sleeping, tantruming, potty training.  Now I am reading about puberty and sibling rivalry.  Parenting is a never-ending job and society's pressure often makes it hard to enjoy the ride. The ride involves patience and persistence, goal-setting and vision.  It involves connection a

Today I took a canoe ride while the rest of the house woke up and got breakfast going.  It was a a lesson in going slow.  It was a time to reflect, be quiet, and let go of tension. I had to keep my canoe pointed in the direction I wanted to go; it liked to veer off-course with the slight breeze, but the course correction only involved a small stroke or two.  It was a metaphor for staying on my path.  The need to check-in and make small adjustments when things move a bit off of the path I'm taking. I saw a juvenile eagle sitting on a beach chair and the canoe did an about-face as I took a picture.  I let it.  I knew I could turn back when I was ready. I looked down into the deep water and saw the lilypad's twisty stems disappearing into the dark.  Their flowers resting on the surface in all different stages of opening. I watched a mature eagle circle, drop, and circle again until it was able to reach down and come up with a nice breakfast.  I listened to a loon call and

Today was a day of birth!  A new beginning.  A miracle.  A sacred time. I am in awe of the human experience and today I am reminded of just how amazing it is as we celebrate the birth of my niece. It's amazing that a little spirit can be so present in even the first hours of arrival.  A calm demeanor, a quiet wonder.  I am thinking back to this spring and the start of little buds on the trees and the first plants that burst through the dark soil.  How the miracle of new life is truly mysterious and grand. I'm reminded of the birth of an idea; the simple seed or whisper of a thought and the way that seed grows into something bigger until it is ready for it's debut. I recently put out a call to friends and family to help me bring more adventure and spontaneity into my life.  The idea had been percolating for a year and kept nagging at me to do something, but the fear of judgment and commitment kept holding me back.  It took time to let the gentle whisper turn into a c

This summer has been a journey in the pursuit of my creative person!  It started with the desire to seek a new path, to try on some new ways of thinking, and to shift a bit from the usual patterns.  My soul was yearning to make more time for creativity, so I have been using the past two months to honor that spirit in me. I thought that I would start from the very beginning-try putting myself through an elementary art class.  That meant going through a step-by-step process of learning how to draw, watercolor, use oil pastels, paint, etc.  I got started with a kid's art book from the library and a trip to The Sketchy Artist.  I bought a few supplies and sat down to start my lessons. The lessons didn't last.  I am completely interested in playing around with all of the supplies and trying out techniques, but I found a rigid plan to "be creative" isn't what I need. What I am coming to understand is that creativity is more than an art class.  Creativity is in my bon

This week the same phrase keeps running through my head, "Comparison is the thief of joy."  Over and over... again and again. I understand why it is haunting me.  I need to hear it.  I need the gentle reminder that when I start to make comparisons, even simple ones, it takes away from me .  It makes a question mark stand out about how my life is or how it stacks up. Comparison takes the joy out of what is and pulls out the attitude of "oh, I wish" or "isn't that neat"  or "why can't I do that?" or "how does she do that?"  It is a simple thing and it happens all the time.  It's automatic.  It creates a wishing or longing that comes from the head, not the contentment that the heart could feel if those simple thoughts were kept in check a bit more. There are so many different ways to live in this world.  So many ways to look at life.  So many possibilities and ideas that become important or inspiring.  It's uniqu

This past week I was able to listen to an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert, the author best known for  "Eat, Pray, Love" and now "The Signature of All Things."   She shared of herself with ease, admitting that she wasn't a guru, but with insights that only come from someone who is wise to the ways of the world.  Someone who has taken the time to observe and reflect on her own life and the spinning of the world around her. I needed to be at the interview and I needed to hear what she had to share! Something that might not seem profound to the person down the row from me, hit my soul.  Buried into my heart. She talked about the word balance and it's impact on women.  She said the word was a "weapon against women."  That sounded harsh, but I hung in with her, and what I took from her explanation was the idea that women are trying to have it all, striving toward something that isn't achievable.  We juggle and cope, work and caretake, always

"What if it were easy?" That is the question that I am pondering this week. What if everything in my life was easy?  How would life go?  What would each day feel like?  What would each day bring? Here's what might happen... My concerns about having enough money and time would fall away. I would feel light and have an abundance of energy for whatever came my way.  Decisions would be a snap because I would be sure of what my heart desired. I wouldn't waffle or let the "should" voice step in to distract me. I would feel more joy in everyday moments. I would take more risks. I would choose things that filled me up and not things that felt like obligations. I would laugh, dance, and create more. I would care less about my appearance and how clean my house is. I would let things roll of my back and not take things personally. I would see the light in other people and feel more friendly.   I would take every interaction as an opportun

Last week I was challenged to take a day to myself.  Actually take it for "myself."  Decide what I wanted to do.  What the spirit moved me to do. I find this challenge is so hard in a culture where getting things done is the measure of success.  Whenever I have a "day off," I think of all of the things that I need to get done and race around to get them done quickly and then maybe I can fit in a bit of time for myself. This assignment was different.  I needed to keep the agenda only on things that felt "right" for that day.  I set off with a little list of errands (in case there was time after "my time" to make some stops) and a general idea of where I wanted to go, but when I got in the car and started driving I felt some rebellion stirring. I didn't want to take the usual route.  I didn't want to see what I always see.  It felt like being on my usual path might create the temptation to do something that wasn't really in my hea

After thinking about all of those old worn out tapes of my saboteur, I decided to take some time to find the cheerleader in me.  Unfortunately, it took some uncovering. For quite awhile, I tried hard to hear a voice that might shout "You can do it!  Believe in yourself! Yes, you are on the right track!"  But, no-I couldn't hear anything like that. I tried to locate where the voice was in my body.  Was it in my gut? Everyone always says, "listen to your gut," but mine wasn't telling me anything.  Not literally.  And what I thought I needed to look for was a voice that would whisper words to me.  I thought there must be something wrong since my little cheerleader, fairy godmother, voice of God, wasn't giving me any verbal reassurance. I needed to rethink this.  Maybe the old "trust your gut" advice is just meant to remind you that it's not your head that will guide you, but your body or heart? So, what are the cues my body gives me when

I have been thinking about all of the old tapes/voices that run through my head.  Of course there are positive voices, but there is also a sabotaging line of thoughts that I sometimes don't even realize are there.  When I do hear them, the tapes are like a nasty, two-faced, elementary school kid who zings me with a cutting look or sarcastic comment as I go to do something that might involve a risk.  The voices whisper words that make me shrink when I am in a group and contribute to the conversation. I can envision a gargoyle sitting on high.  Judging. There is always the good ol' "Who do you think you are?" or "What will people think?" or "Be sure to fit in."  The voices from years of observing and being acutely aware of the interactions between people and what I perceive their effects to be.  The voices that trick me into thinking they are actually coming from me, keeping me safe, but aren't at all who I am. This month, I was challe

Today I couldn't decide how to use my day.  What should I do first? My list of "to-dos" was long and eating at me, but I couldn't seem to figure out what to do or how to make any dents in those projects. What could I do so that I could feel like I was making some progress?  How could I get rid of the self-doubt and the feeling that the path was uncertain?  Nothing was clear and fear had crept in. So, I gave up and started to organize.  I cleared the clutter.  I sorted through the old.  I tossed and recycled.  I reminisced and remembered.  I made new lists.  I created new systems and made space. I gained strength.  I gained perspective.  I gained confidence. I am again and again reminded that to move forward we need to clear the clutter of the past.  Clear the heaviness, clear the old thoughts & patterns, clear the way for new ideas and growth. I read recently that doing inner work is like window washing.  We are clearing up the lens that we have been looking

My husband reminds me that as my sister gave her toast on my wedding night, she mentioned that I was one on the most spiritual people that she knew.  I guess that part of the speech didn't really stick with me because I don't know if I understood what the word "spiritual" meant to me. I might have thought she was saying, "she's such a good Catholic girl," because at that time, I was a very diligent church-goer.  I had sang in the church choir.  I said my prayers.  I had learned some valuable ways to find stillness and peace because of the religious rituals of the church.  But...  was I spiritual? Yes, I think I was.  I think I now realize that all of the journaling, quiet walks, and time for reflection that I needed, were a part of my spiritual ritual/life.  Now, I am finding that I don't turn to the religious rituals that I used to think were so important in keeping me grounded and centered.  I have found many more ways to live out my faith in God