Breathing Space & More...

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