Author: lionswings

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Things Change

I am sitting outside on my deck getting some much deserved reading and relaxing done. The glorious babble of our river lulls me into quiet gratitude and joy. As I am looking up from my pages, I notice a few dried leaves cascading to the grass from the canopy above.

It is happening. Already. I feel the pang of wanting summer to last forever. I feel the need to capture my time in a jar with fireflies and laughter. I hear a soft cry hanging on to the wind and realize it came from me.

Things change. Life moves.

In that moment I remind myself of the apple picking to come and the amazing crisp bite to the air. I think of the cozy blankets cuddles and the warm cider kissing my lips. I allow myself to feel excited for the squeals of delight at our first snow. I welcome the thoughts of sledding, baking, and wrapping presents. This delight gives way to seeds and garden plans. Then onto another splash in the river and harvest in the sun.

Change can be so thrilling when I see it through a lens of joy. Knowing that it can be challenging and sometimes difficult. Yet I greet it with compassion and kindness for all the wonder it continues to bring.

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Friday Surprise

I am not even sure exactly how I feel about this yet…I am putting this down in a post so I make sure to come back to this and remember this moment. I work in a Title I inner city school and wore this shirt to work. I have worn it before. However, today, a colleague told me to go home and change my shirt. They said it “should say all lives matter in schools.” I was surprised given the location and situation that we are in everyday, that someone I work with would even question or pause on this movement. At first I thought they were trying to joke with me. I let the comment hang out there and let them see that I believe in this movement. This is not a message of Black Lives Matter more than anyone else…but they matter just as much as everyone else and you CANNOT work where I work and possibly think that things are equal. I know I have much more to say on this but need to get back to work. Wow. (not to mention the ONLY person who can tell me to go home and change my shirt is…ME.)IMG_7856

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Town Pool

July 2017!

A couple of days ago, we had a wonderful day spent at the Town Pool near my mother’s house. We are visiting for a a couple of weeks and sometimes we trek over to the town pool rather than spend the whole day at home in my mom’s pool. The town pool has diving boards, a sprinkler park, and water slides. It is a really nice facility and the population who uses it is diverse. It has a very laid back atmosphere while still upholding top notch safety regulations.

While we were there, a little girl was wading in the water near us. My mother and I were in the kiddie section with my little guy watching my daughter go down the water slides. This little girl was bobbing around and hanging on the ropes looking a little lost or bored. Eventually she spoke to my mother and told her that she didn’t really know how to swim. My mom had a lovely chat and while I was helping my 2 year old float and kick, my mom convinced this girl to paddle around and gain a wee bit of confidence. It was enough to ignite some life into her smile and also glue her to our family for the day. Shortly after this, it seemed every where we turned, there she was. My daughter played with her and swam, but this little girl really didn’t know how to do much but float and dunk her head under water. They had a hard time choosing what to do because my daughter, although a year younger than this girl, is a strong swimmer. The girl’s mother came over at one point wading through the water only to inform the girl that she was going to go over to the deep pools with a friend and she should just have my mom and I look after her. I was stunned. The woman made no attempt to even introduce herself to us or even speak to us, but hooked her daughter to us.

We did look after her. We included her into our conversations and played in the water. However, when it was time to get out to have lunch, I felt torn. I wanted to invite the girl to our table and blankets to eat. But something about it felt strange. I do this a lot. I take on other people’s stuff, or even other people without thought or question. However, I have committed myself to taking on MYSELF more than others and this felt in violation of that concept. I am grateful for my ability to pause and get lost in thought. It allowed the Universe to step in to guide me. The little girl waved and made her way through the sea of swimmers to find her family. I saw her across the pool deck seated slight away from the swarm of family surrounding bags of snacks and accessories. She waved again. I waved back. Moving forward and touched by an invisible strand of human connection. I am reminded that not everything NEEDS to be defined, solved, or analyzed.

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Morning Practice

April 29 – I was convinced last night that I would be up before the sun and ready to approach the day. I had been waking so early recently that I figured it would be like all the others. However, I slept right up to my alarm and even then was not enthusiastic to peel myself off the sheets. I stumbled my way to work and parked my car. Sitting there I was reminded that in order to embrace this life and steer myself in a direction toward my goals and dreams, I would need to break habits of self doubt and negative energy.

I got out of my car and before I grabbed my bags or did anything else, I breathed. Several enormous gulps of fresh Spring air entered my body. I was then inspired to give the day some Sun Breaths right there in the parking lot. I said Yes to the day and brought myself into the light.

I remembered a recent commitment I made that involves a daily gesture of self care, self love, and a moment to deepen my practice. I put all my bags and work aside. Went to a locker and unrolled a yoga mat. In the new sun of this new day I greeted it with some gentle yoga.  I spent some time examining my balance and where I am placing weight through my feet on the mat. It was liberating to reclaim work space as a place of love, healing, and spiritual practice.

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And then there were 5

 

I am at work doing my best to be present and focused on what is at hand. This is no small feat given that I am getting continuous updates from home as to the comings and goings of The Foxes. It is so amazing and I am grateful for the diversion. I got a lovely note letting me know there are five babies. We now have confirmed visual on five babies. I was giddy with excitement.

And then there was a short wave of panic. Five? Wait, how many babies do foxes have? So I looked it up and found out that Red Foxes tend to have 1-10 kits at a time…then I screamed. Ten?! Oh my goodness, can we handle ten little foxes soon to be big foxes running all around our hill? I breathed and gave over to the Universe knowing it’s all going be alright. The Foxes are here and bringing joy. That’s where I will stay.

Matt and I are constantly chuckling now and empathizing for that Mama Fox. Every time we see those wee ones pop out and my wee ones go running up the steps to see them, the foxes zip back into their holes. We giggle but apologize to that Mama who has probably been out hunting all night for them and would simply like five minutes to nap or do whatever and she can’t get it. We know. We know all too well.

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Wednesday Morning Meditation

May 8 – We only had 20 minutes to discover our stillness and find the light within ourselves. We began from a standing spiraling energy and gently took each breath to settle and go inside. We took care of our bodies. We took care of our hearts. I am so blessed to have this opportunity and doing my best to take it every time.

Tadasana and Utkatasana brought us swiftly into concentrated power. I am so proud to look out at the room full of young people taking the journey to be healthier and more mindful. It is in these moments of sustaining postures that I am no longer agitated by discomfort. I am finding ways to allow it to be there while also being appreciative that I can experience this. I enjoy reminding my students that they have control over their experience and can adjust accordingly. It is liberating.

Cobra today was transformative. We focused more on our alignment and less on how high we lifted and it became a new experience. I am hoping to show them that pushing through sometimes leaves you empty. That in yoga it is important to explore the stretch and sensation in the small movements and adjustments. My students took the time to allow their bodies to gradually rise and stayed present to what slight shifts could reveal.

When is came time for our closing mediation I encouraged my students to focus on recognizing their inner strength and power. With every inhale we invited thoughts of what we most want to become. We inhaled the strength and power we wish to possess. With every exhale we expanded and rejoiced that we are already what we wish to become. We celebrate the path and continue the cycle. I saw the light beam out from every face in front of me. These kids shine. Be the light.

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Magic of Foxes

Not too long ago, we noticed a large dirt mound on our hill. It had not been there before and it was strange how it seem to simply appear. My husband climbed over the railing of our steps to take a closer look. He reported back that it was a large hole, like a den some animal has built.

Then the most amazing transformation happened to our household this week. An adorable family of foxes emerged. From what we have seen there are four babies. They tumble around the woods and race around with their lunches hanging out of their mouths. It is exciting and soothing all at once. Everyone in our family is so in love it is invigorating. Yesterday we spent most of the day watching them race around and watch us watching them. It is wonderful what they have released in us. I am so grateful for this new bit of life and joy in our world.

My daughter desperately wanted a fox from Santa Claus. A real fox she could have as a pet. We convinced her that it would not and could not happen. She kept believing that a fox would come to her. So this experience has caused a sense of hope and universal connection for us all. She believes they are there because of her wish.

We have been doing research and learning about foxes. We have told the children that we are going to do our best to live in harmony with the fox family. We are happy to learn that they will help limit the rodent and tick population as both of these felt out of control. Maybe the Universe answered my pleas for help on both accounts. The foxes are here and we welcome them with open hearts to our River Cottage.

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Practice what you Teach

April 17 – This week I wanted my yoga students to not only make strides in their personal practice of focus, stretch, strength, and balance; but I wanted them to know that anything was possible because they possess all the tools they need to be successful. I wanted them to believe that they hold their power. Our mediation was centered on the quote:

Everything you need, your courage, strength, compassion and  love; everything you need is already within you.

I began class with that phrase and ended with it.  I also told them:

There are only two mistakes someone can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting. -Buddha

I could feel them melt as they released into these ideas. When I said it at the beginning of class, it was something to think about and roll around in their brains. When I said it again at the end of class, I could feel the kids grow and get more powerful. It is the most amazing feeling in the world to feel that inner strength from someone radiate into the room. I am so thankful for this opportunity.

Then it flooded me like a fiery bubbling wave. I needed to hear this and say this. I needed to remind myself that I do not need to search anywhere but in my own self for all the courage, strength, compassion, and love I need. I have it. I have had it all along. So much of my upbringing has reinforced the American scheme of being dependent on commercialism, self doubt, and self deprecation in order to survive. I am reteaching myself to look within and like what is there. I am learning to be faithful in myself and capabilities.

 

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The time is always NOW

“The is never a time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment, the time is always now.” -James Baldwin DWCHS ’42

April 3 – This was our closing meditation in yoga this morning. We are reinforcing that we are control of our actions and how we focus our energy. I am never quite certain from where the quote or intention will come and yet every week as if by magic it happens. I am so blessed to be part of a group of young people that are using yoga and meditation to redirect their futures.

I have found this quote particularly helpful in warding off feelings of failure and doubt. I am always in the moment of creating my salvation. I am always in the opportunity of generating positive change and growth. It seems as though stress, deadlines, expectations, and frustrations have been consuming my thoughts. I am doing my best to remember that I can breathe and make better choices. I can enlist help when needed. I can believe in the power of now to release me from the mistakes I made before or the perception of myself that is not serving me well. I know that each breath I inhale, I can reflect all the things I am able to do in this moment to feel and be better. With every exhale I breathe out gratitude for the opportunity to be this amazing person with choices and love. This is what I encourage in my students. Go inside and bring in the celebration of self. Breathe out the appreciation and be thankful for the ability to be celebratory. It guarantees motivation and positive energy.

Each moment I take my salvation, my future into my own hands, I am empowering the inner warrior to love, celebrate, and give thanks. In this moment now I am beyond happy that I am bringing yoga into my life with a more focused and dedicated approach. I am grateful that I have students with which I can share my journey and together we learn and grow. Healing is a process. I am coming back stronger and more aware and I am thankful.

 

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Appreciation

Today while at my daughter’s soccer practice, I was chatting with some other parents. One mom that I am friendly with took pause and asked me how I am feeling. It took a moment for it to land on me that she was genuinely asking about me -not my family, my work, my schedule, but asking about ME.

I am so grateful she did that and don’t feel as if I gave it as much appreciation in the moment as it deserved. When I thought about it later, I wrote her a text message to let her know I was grateful.

I would like to do more of that – noticing genuine moments of care and honoring them. I am not going to be grandiose and say that this year, month, week or even day I will commit to that gesture. I am simply going to encourage myself in this moment to be more aware of moments I can be appreciative and do it.

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Yoga Challenge

Making time for myself can be difficult. Often I think of things I want to do or change about my life and set these huge goals or create expectations that simply cannot be met. Recently, I was realizing I wanted to get back to my yoga practice. However, with two little ones and a busy schedule, it can be difficult to maintain a regular class practice.

I spoke about this with a friend. I was feeling defeated that it is too difficult to go to yoga class regularly. She suggested something so genius and simple I have to write about it. She suggested I take a small bit of time in the day for me to do yoga. She asked if I “could find 5 minutes today?” SO when I hung up the phone, I found a quiet place to myself and became still. I did one sun salutation and then another and then one more. I heard my kids looking for me so I came back to a place of stillness and simply got quiet with myself for another five minutes. It was great.

Then I thought, what if I gave myself sun salutations each day? If they can become a practice that develops into more – great. If not, let’s see how many days I can give myself that gift. Simple. I am not worried about getting to class or rearranging everyone’s life.

What transpired was amazing. As I carved out my pocket of time and space for sun salutations, my kids watched and began to understand that mommy would need a small window of time to herself and it was okay. Sometimes they even join in and the session grows in length.

This may sound silly to anyone who has freedom over their time. Yet, this is also teaching me and my children important lessons about prioritizing and meditation. My sun salutations challenge is also helping me to see the wonder and opportunity in the whole of my day. There are so many unclaimed moments that can be redirected inward.

So now I challenge myself to #sevensunsalutations where I try to have seven days in a row that I give myself some inner sunshine. If I miss I day, I simply begin again.

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Claw Foot

Never underestimate the power of a good bath.

When I first moved to Manhattan, I lived in an apartment that was a sublet from a guy I did not know. It was very reasonable rent because it was his families’ apartment – rent stabilized and he was not looking to make money off of us, or at least a lot of money. How fortunate I am to have had this opportunity. I don’t think the move could have been possible otherwise. My amazing friend and roommate worked almost an opposite schedule to mine so my evenings were spent alone. I had very little money when I came to Manhattan. I gave myself two weeks to find a job. Much to my delight, I found one and felt relieved. Now my job was an hourly wage that would certainly not have me rolling in the money but it would cover my rent with a little bit left for food and such. There was nothing left for partying or going out in the evening for a long stretch.

My ritual became an evening bath. I would come home from work. Eat a salad or whatever my nightly ration was and then begin to compile my belongings for sanctuary time. In this apartment our bathroom was small but held the most glorious claw foot tub. I had never lived in a house or apartment with anything but the prefabricated plastic cubical tubs. This tub was magnificent. I was able to stretch out and be completely covered. I would take the phone in there. In case I needed to make a call – I wasn’t getting out for a while. I would surround myself with candles, books, and journals. My usual bath music was Norah Jones but I was often adventurous and daring.

I firmly believe these hot soaks saved me. It did not prevent me from all dangers and bad decisions but I really believe that my ritual and self care kept me aware, sober and healthy more often than not. That is a good thing! Sometimes I fantasize about these bath rituals. I desire to get back into the routine but I know that now I am a wife and a mom…creating such luxurious and self centered time is almost impossible. But I am entering a new phase or quest as I shall call it. I am embarking on a journey of increasing my self love without feeling it is extravagant or excessive. This is imperative to our future.

In my little cottage, we have a claw foot tub. I have bathed both my precious children in this enormous vessel. I have soothed wounds, aching muscles, and washed away tears inside this animal of an appliance. We often talk of remodeling our bathroom and getting rid of the giant tub and putting in a walk-in shower. I can’t bring myself to do it. A really good shower is equally amazing, however, there is something so nurturing and comforting about a bath. Simply looking at it can fill one with a warmth and embrace of pure, tender, care for the soul. It is a place where the troubles of my family are soaked away into reflective conversation and quiet time. It can also be the source of joyous celebrations of a fun filled time in nature. The bath bares witness and holds us while we sit with our experiences and scrub them away from the surface.

Never underestimate the power of a good bath.

 

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Everything Changes

The throng of commuters felt thicker this morning. Even on a crisp autumn morning, June was stifled in the woolen embrace of hundreds of people shuffling to work. She was worried she would be late. Worried that she forgot something. Worried she wore the wrong blouse – it might say the wrong thing- give the wrong image. A older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a hint of cologne bumped into her arm with his bag. She looked at him and away almost immediately. She began to rifle through her handbag while speed-walking in the dispersing crowd. She needed to check the address again. It gives her calm, comfort to check directions almost every 30 seconds. Although she has always done this, she has never taught herself to stop burying the directions into her handbag after each glance. This has become a habit, a ritual of sorts.

She feels the scratchy torn paper in between her fingers and begins to raise it out like a crab in a net. June looks casually into her hand and is sent falling forward onto her hands and one knee.

The stream of onlookers diverge around her and a family stops to help her stand. She thanks them and lush faced assures them she is alright. She has to stoop back over to collect the contents of her purse that have toppled onto pavement. Her pen, her sunglasses and some papers. June scoops them up and notices an unfamiliar piece of stationary erratically folded stuck to her directions. She glides her self to a potted plant to put herself back together. She throws everything into her bag and looks at the stationary. It is expensive and somewhat personalised. She can feel the weight and texture of its fibers. She strokes a fingertip on the soft emerald piping around the edges.

June opens the paper to see the green trail and smooths it out on her leg. It is not the entire sheet. It has been hastily torn and crumpled. There are smudges of words along the ripped edge. All that can be read is:

Please stop waiting to hear “I’m sorry”. Get on with your life. I have.

The letter was not originally intended for June but it’s sentiment drove a stake through her chest and nailed her to that very spot. She looked around and studied the faces of those around her. Was anyone visibly shattered from this as well? She saw a young man reading something small in his hand and she thought for a moment to approach and ask if this was his. The she saw him remove a granola bar from the wrapping he was reading and toss it in the bin.

Please stop waiting to hear “I’m sorry”. Get on with your life. I have.

She read it again. This time the words pressed into her heart. She winced and looked around again. Who would write this? It is so cold and insensitive. She felt such sadness for whomever received this note and cast it away. June then began to wonder if this was a section of a letter purposefully torn off and discarded or had this been the talisman carried and fingered for affirmation. Was this the best or the worst section of the letter?

Time seemed to slow down for June. She leaned back against the brick encasement of perennials and sighed. She wiped a bead of sweat from her chest and listened to her own pulse. The sounds of the street morphed into a blanket around her feet. The directions to her appointment were cast aside on top of her bag and she took them in her shaking hand and crumpled them tightly into a strong fist.

Please stop waiting to hear “I’m sorry”. Get on with your life. I have.

This was written for her, she knew it. No she didn’t have the entire letter and no she didn’t recognise the handwriting but she felt it was meant for her. June felt a bubble of anger rise in her throat. “Get on with your life.” Who would be so brash to imply she wasn’t living it up? She thought of her father all smug and disapproving.  June was griping the letter so tightly in her hands she felt the paper shutter as if it would explode.

With a new fevered gate she trudges her way through the current. June steps off the curb, she raises her right hand clutching the letter to ward off a exuberant cabbie. She let him know she is not to be trifled with today. June has been rewired and is heading directly to her appointment with no doubts, no need to check or recheck anything. She flicks her hair back and shoves the letter into her pocket.

*response to daily prompt: everything changes

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Not my Job

Yesterday while in the grocery store, I overheard someone say “it’s not my job to take care of them.” It was a simple phrase that floated past me and I didn’t even know I heard it until later. A few hours later. I was seated on my deck doing my best to clear my mind for ten minutes. I was feeling quite proud of myself when my chime went off that I had a swirling of thoughts come in and out, but I didn’t abandon my sit. I let it flow. As I opened my eyes and began to take in the flood of sensory items, I heard that phrase from that voice.

“It’s not my job to take care of them.”

I began to think of all the times I may have used that phrase ‘not my job’ in my life. I remember during a brief time of working for Disney, we were specifically taught that it is a collective effort to take care of everything and everyone. Yet, then I honed in on relationships. I could hear that phrase being used even in a manner to liberate one from feeling obligated or co-dependent to someone else’s needs and plans. This didn’t bring me pleasure or a good feeling. I started to reflect on what other way could I reframe that phrase in my own life. I thought of the phrase “calling”. sometimes when something isn’t your job, its your calling. Then I brought up things like need, mission, desire. Taking care of someone else or being mindful of their needs can be a calling. It could be a need, a mission, or a desire.

First, I flipped this phrase to be more positive: It IS my ________ to take care of _________. I tried out inserting my husband into the phrase and saying the words “my job” felt diminutive and submission. When I changed it to desire, it felt connected and passionate. I also quickly was able to be more specific as to what I am taking care. I felt that the original statement was so broad and vague. I was looking for clarity.  Then I could easily swing back to the negative statement of “It’s not my desire to…” and I felt free and released from what I did not want.

I began to change it to other people in my life, my kids, my students, my community, even myself. This phrase became powerful and enlightening. It made clear where my energy is going and the impact it is having on my journey. I began saying taking care of (insert activity or task) and then tried to give it a label of function or importance. I started to see the life I am living verse the life that I want. So much can be shifted with our thoughts and words.

 

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What is it to “take it easy”???

A week ago, I laid splayed out out on an operating table and there were “complications.”

Things went unexpectedly wrong. Now, here I am “taking it easy”. I am not even sure what that means. Seriously, I am struggling to wrap my mind around what it looks like, what it feels like. I have quickly come to realize that I am someone who needs a doctor to outline and give examples of what it means to rest. I know how to rest on a vacation. I know how to go to sleep at night. But being home from work unexpectedly and needing to get things done and needing to rest is not an easy translation to my daily life. That is where I am. I get it.

I am first learning to accept that I have spent intense time, effort, and care to become a machine. Even in my mediation, writing, and reading practices there is a constant timetable and “to-do list” impeding my flow. I did not know I had gotten so scheduled and so rushed. The Universe is forcing me to slow down, be present, and be genuine in my mindfulness. It is an incredible lesson I clearly needed. Thank you Universe. As always, you got my back.

Some things I am learning during this respite:

  1. Take a moment to feel your pain and get to know it with a tender heart.
  2. Embrace doing less things in a day so that you can do things more fully, more sincerely.
  3. When you stop trying to do everything, you give opportunity to others to try new things. Also you discover a new path to your goals.
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Tech Pause Reflection

This year I have participated in two voluntary technology breaks. It is only 4 months into 2018 and I have said YES to limited interaction with screens and social media. I gave myself no warning to unplug from Facebook and went dark for 30 days at a time. I made a commitment to myself that I would consider a phone call before sending a text and not opt out of the connection of voice. A loftier and more rewarding term I set upon myself this wear was to challenge myself for 30 days that I equalled the number of texts I sent to the number of letters I wrote. It become exciting and addictive. I more than tripled the amount of text messages I sent with letters in the month of January. It was effort that brought such a sense of pride and accomplishment.

It is the latest tech pause that I think truly woke me up. It was not voluntary. It was not planned, welcomed, or scheduled. It was a violation, inconvenience, and betrayal. Yet from those words, I saw things, listened more, and awakened inside.

My phone was stolen at work. Someone went into my personal space and took my phone. The search and rescue was extensive and shattering. My phone was literally shattered. Wen the thief was about to be caught, they threw the phone out of a window and it plummeted to the courtyard below and smashed into a horrific tangled mess. My phone was recovered and returned however it was no longer useful. I was informed that insurance would grant me a new phone but it would take a few days to get it all sorted.

We were about to go on vacation. There I was without a phone and away I went. I spent approximately twelve days unplugged and it was a combination of relaxing and frustrating. I have to admit that it was great not getting sucked into Instagram after I post a picture of my day. Instead I simply kept living it. I didn’t feel the buzz with every text or email. I also miraculously no longer needed to check the time, ever. Why is it that when I had a phone, I felt the need to check the time repeatedly. Without my phone, time didn’t seem to be a marker in everything I did. I am sure that it helped I was on vacation. It was a small gift in a way.

The frustrating and difficult part about being unplugged was trying to communicate, relate, and share with people around me still tethered to their technology. I was more aware of how many devices one person will “use” at a time. Most of all, I found it impossible to feel like I was truly on vacation with my husband. It seemed as though we were on two different trips with scheduled meeting places. Even though we were together, the space in his attention span taken up by his phone, computer, or the TV felt like it wedged miles between us. I grew irritable with his need to check, recheck, call, respond, or scroll. There were times I was fantasizing grabbing his phone and chucking it into the sea or skidding it beneath the garbage truck just before it zoomed by the house.

I did not live out any of my fantasies. I did get angry and short tempered at times. It helped me look back on a lot of my interactions with people in the past. I was able to identify moments where perhaps my anger or confusion is because I felt disconnected from them because technology was taking too much space in the relationship. I saw how much our children are learning to accept technology taking a more important role than their thoughts, ideas, and connection. This is not the way I want to raise my children. Although we had limited their screen time, I realized perhaps we need to limit ours as well. We have a steadfast rule in our house – no electronics during meals. This experience made me see that we can do better. Also I learned that it is important to unplug at the same time as others with the intention of connecting or sharing space in a closer way. It will be more meaningful if I decide to take a pause at the same time as my husband or friends or colleagues. It felt lonely and frustrating and it doesn’t have to fell that way. That will be the next challenge. To unplug together and make it mean something.

I have my new phone. It is next to me as I write this…I am going to turn it off (not silent) while I write. I am going to BE with my writing for a spell and enjoy that in itself.

Here are some things to consider doing:

  • Have time in the day that you power off as many devices as possible.
  • Only open ONE tab on your computer.
  • Make a unplugged date with someone. Stick to the rule and enjoy each other’s company.
  • No electronics during meals.
  • Have scheduled times that you check certain websites or emails.
  • Go dark on social media for a week or a month at a time.

Feel free to let me know how it goes.

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Mary is always a winner

Last night we watched Mary Poppins. It is a family favourite. My daughter who is now 6 first watched it when she was 2.5 and fell in love. She knew all the songs and could hear the instrumental and know exactly where it was in the film. She had only seen it a couple of times but it was imprinted on her heart. Last night we watched it with our little guy for the first time. I was concerned he would be bored or lose interest. I was so pleasantly surprised. He was amazed by the carpet bag, truly transported into the world of magic and wonderment. Before bed we had to play a game with the “Ban Booms and Chimmey Weets” He loves to pretend he is the chimney sweep on the rooftop when Admiral Boom sends off the fireworks. Even now, a day later as we get ready for nap time he is chattering about Mary and the Chimmey Weets. Such love swells in my heart.

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Labyrinth

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I stepped into the labyrinth path not sure of what I needed, wanted, or why I was walking. I started slowly. One step at a time trying to listen to my breath and the wind. I was in pain and didn’t realize it. For a while I have been floating through my days acting as if I was happy and ‘in a good place”. And maybe I was. But there was pain. Pain that had not been introduced or acknowledged. It was small, sharp and tender. I have spent many hours in reflection confronting my pain and joy in hopes of embracing it all. It wasn’t until I stepped into the labyrinth, stepped in with a yielding heart did I notice this piece of myself. I had been praying for a door to be shown to me. A door to the next path of my journey. A new career, a new life, a new something to be presented to me so I could run to it and through it.

I tried to envision myself available and ready to be presented with this opportunity. I attempted to let the Universe know I was ready to leave what I knew as my daily routine and fly to something exciting and new. (Oh Universe, you are more clever and interesting than I give you credit!) As I walked I visualized a room full of doors that could be opened and I prayed that my walk, my weekend of meditation would rescue me from my current path and light up a new door. I thought about it flashing and flying open with a beautiful flourish and glorious light and music that I would dance my way into my true self.

I had been in this mindset where I didn’t like my job and the people I work for or at least the policies that dictate my day. I could feel a dread of returning to work after a holiday and it was not the typical “not wanting to leave vacation land” dread. It felt deeper and sadder. I felt like I was willingly digging myself into a hole that I would claim I was stuck inside. I was beginning to understand that I was walking myself to my despair. I was sad.

I stopped on the path and looked around. I took in the sounds of the meadow coming alive in the afternoon sun. I prayed again “please, please, please show me what is next, what is great, what is true.” I expected to get insight from the wonderful person that was Leading my workshop. I thought she would say or do something and tell me or even command me to try something new. I thought she would save me before I buried myself. The birds flew very close to me. The bees rested on my skin and I didn’t flinch. A mothy butterfly thing fluttered on my breath causing me to walk again. As I took each new step, I felt the pain again. A tiny piercing but gentle pain was awakening deep within my body. Tears started to swell in my eyes and drip from the corners down my cheek. At first I was confused, but I let it happen. I didn’t wipe them away, I let them go where they needed to go. I began to cry without understanding of why. I brought my mind back to my little pain. It was like a whisp of light and emotion somewhere deep in my shell.

I heard a voice. Or maybe I heard myself. But the words of Rumi rang out clear and soft, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

My breath latched on something sharp like a crack and then poured out with tears and a warm, fluid light. This sounds so unreal even as I write it, but I swear this is what I felt. My mind showed me images of cracked glass, shattered Earth and then a small flower bud with small bits ripping open to bloom. At that image, I understood something with out words. I was the shattered cracking beauty ripping to bloom. I began to laugh and walk faster. I talked to myself about allowing myself to crack open and bloom. Could I do it? Could I be brave? Along my walk ,I saw many small flowers trying to open in the sun and my chest ached. ACHED so intensely I actually stumbled and cried out. I am fairly certain there were others at the Labyrinth when I entered but in that moment it was only me. Only me.

Then my walk became more steady and directed. Only me…became simply me. A glorious Me. The meadow around me seemed a few shades brighter or more vivid. I tried to clear my eyes, thinking it was the tears distorting my world into a technicolor land of OZ, but it was real. I thought back to my initial concerns. What did I hope to achieve from this weekend and meditation? I was hoping for a door, an escape into my new life. I wanted to be shown a door to the next Me that I would love. A door. I focused on this image I had been obsessed with, a door. As I neared the center of the Labyrinth a door was presented to me in my mind. It became more clear but somewhat frustrating. I kept trying to see it open up and show me the new world that would make my life better. To my confusion, it did open but not out to something. The door swung in…it lead me inward. Inside this door was that concentrated ball of light trying to escape.

I stopped in my tracks and blinked several times. I shut that inner door and took some breaths. What was happening?

The way to my true self is through me…the place I have not wanted to go. The place I have tried to transform and escape. I thought back to the flowers beginning to burst open. We never think of those places of green ripping to reveal such vibrance as glorious pain. Maybe pain is not the right word anymore. It is more like a release after a strong hold. I began to pray and walk with energy thinking about myself bursting into bloom. I wanted to embrace the idea that I too could crack and allow the light to enter and escape. That light can fill me and the world to be part of a one.

Leonard Cohen says, “There is a crack in everything, that is how the light gets in.” I have spent so much time trying to fill the cracks. Now perhaps I can focus on being the shattered, cracking, beauty ripping to bloom.

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Love Letters

I didn’t know I had a really good idea about connecting families, stories, and souls until I charmed my way into Tanglewood for free one evening with a couple of new friends. I was on a little weekend getaway by myself. This is a very new experience for me and I must say it is wonderful. I met some ladies staying at the same place as me and we were just down the road from Tanglewood, the Summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. On a glorious Saturday evening, we decided to hike down the road and sit in the parking lot to have a listen. Instead, I calmly marched us right up to gate and explained we would really like to come in. As if I was Obi Wan waving my hand in a Jedi mind trick, the security guards produced tickets and opened the gate. Voila. My new gal pals were giddy and convinced I am a witch. I am not a witch. Not in the least.

Our evening was delightful and as we laughed our way into the night, we began to swap stories and anecdotes of our personal lives. During the show I had been writing in a journal and one of the ladies asked me about it. I told her it’s my daughter’s book and she looked perplexed. I began to tell her the method to my madness. I found myself revealing a passionate writing process taken up by my family. I hadn’t set out to boast, expose, or instruct. However, we spend a short while walking and discussing the beautiful gift our family has created. One of the ladies asked me if I would mind if she shared my idea with some new moms she knows. She said it was something she wished she had for herself…I told her to share it with everyone. It was then I knew I should write this down and give it to you.

When my doctor told us we were pregnant with my oldest child, I began writing in a journal. This was a bit different than a personal journal because it was written to my baby. I just let myself stream of conscious work out whatever was happening for me. I knew enough of myself to not create any harsh deadlines or rules. When I wanted or needed to say something I wrote it down. When I was worried, I wrote it down. When I went to the doctor or had a discussion with my husband, I wrote it down. Not every day. I have several journals filled now and my daughter is currently five. I tell her anything. I talk about stuff that might be hard to say or I don’t want to forget. Sometimes I tell her things that are trivial. I just write. Someday I will give her these books, they are for her.

Much to our delight and surprise, when my daughter was two and a half, we found out we were pregnant with a little boy. I wrote about it in his sister’s journal. I felt sad I wasn’t making one for him. I gave it a lot of thought and knew what I am honestly capable of and two emotionally raw and real journals is NOT practical. I decided to write him a letter on the day he was born, March 17. Then I made a deal with myself that I will write him a letter on the 17th of every month until I can’t. He has 30 letters tucked in a box so far waiting patiently for his reading pleasure. They are not all long and some are written on cards or even postcards. They are my monthly check ins with him, with me, with us. It fills me with joy simply thinking of it.

The third part of this ritual came from my request but is not carried out by me. Right before my daughter was born, I was filled with the hormonal charged nesting and sentimental swirl that many mamas experience. I began to become nostalgic for my own grandmothers who both died many years before this. I had questions and requests for stories that could not be satiated. I came up with something I longed for, something I can’t have for myself, but wanted so dearly for my kids. I asked my parents and my husband’s parents if they would be interested in writing a letter to their new grandchild. I let them know it wasn’t mandatory but would be greatly appreciated. I asked them to consider for my daughter’s birthday every year they are alive to include a letter, a year in review from their perspective. I let them know I am not going to read these letters but shall have them kept for my kids. They will have a letter for every year they share this Earth with their grandparents. To my surprise, they now also do it for my son. My mom has included recipes and pictures I think. The letters come with their birthday presents specially marked and someday they will be able to reconnect regardless of distance or existence as I say. I was really touched when my husband decided that he would write a yearly letter to the kids on their birthdays as well. He gets pictures printed and includes them with his “Year in Review”. They must be the luckiest kids I know. Just imagine having letters marking your journey along with your grandmother’s journey from her perspective.

That’s all it is. A writing commitment of love. Now, I have heard many a mom rant that they don’t have time to scrapbook or lament how  they kept baby books for the first few months until chaos of life took over. Trust me, I am not super-pintrest-coupon-hacking mom. I made a commitment that was honest with what I could do and it has become so rewarding and magical. Think about it, can you take 10 minutes to write a card one time a month? Or perhaps spending a little longer on a letter but once a year is more suited to your lifestyle. We are caught up in the memes, tweets, and insta-gratification of our digital lives. How nice would it be to cosy up and read a letter to you from someone you love that you have missed for oh so long?

So that is my great idea. Take what you want, change it, make it fit you, and give a bit of yourself.

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Connect

I am finding it difficult to find a pathway, a direction that feels genuine to me because I am living life trapped in a body, in a framework that does not feel authentic to my goals. Whenever I try to focus on feeling better about my body or my life and try to “get myself back on track”, I feel disappointed and flustered. Several times a day I can walk past a mirror or glass windows and see my reflection. I am almost always taken off guard and shocked or disgusted by what I process or behold. Several times a day this can happen. Almost as if my brain refuses to accept what I am on a surface level. This is not good because I can never be in the moment if I can’t be who I am in the moment. I am in a constant flux between loathing or promising change, never acceptance.

Tonight I am trying to recommit to myself. I am trying to have a conversation of love and hope towards myself and what each new breath can offer. I do not want to waste time on empty promises or punish myself for being me. I am taking breath and attempting genuine love. This is not easy. Even as I type this, I pause for another breath in and try to think about something that I can celebrate about myself. I am sad that I have to do this but I must accept that this is where I am – it is me…for right now. I want to remind myself tonight before I set my brain towards sleep, that I am an agent of change and I can bring positive change to myself. I deserve the investment of time, planning and care towards committing to being in a perpetual state of positive change and flow.

I have heard so many times the phrase “be kind to yourself” and have often dismissed it as an excuse for mediocrity. I have not been able to wrap my brain, heart and soul around this concept of self kindness. I am trying. So, tonight, I am going to embark on a little journey of being kind to myself. I am combining my discipline of daily writing with this concept of acceptance and self love. I am going to tell you that I didn’t do much along the lines of losing the weight I desperately want to lose. I didn’t give hours of my day to my art. I didn’t make plans or devote myself to getting ahead at work. Yet, I did stay calm during several times I wanted to lose my temper. I celebrated silly jumps into the pool by my five year old. I curled up and became a cushion for my two year old to nap and recharge. I said please, thank you, and my pleasure more times than I can count. My kids went to bed happy, safe, and fed. My parents are smiling and reliving every wonderful moment they had with their grandkids today. Here I am in the middle of it all, reminding myself that I am worthy of a pat on the back. I may even rub my own feet before I sleep. I help bring happiness to the world around me and it is silly not to allow myself to feel some of that, take some of that, own some of that for myself.

Quick thought: I would never tell an Iris it is not beautiful because it doesn’t look enough like a daisy…

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Pick Me Up

I am so tired. I am drained. However, I sit here in a sea of paperwork and to-do lists ready to soldier on.  This is what I do. I am trying to put my focus in other places, places that serve my soul. I am giving attention to the to-do lists that fill my heart. Even though I have not had a good night’s rest and I am hungry, I am moving forward with energy. I am finding energy for the things and the people I love. I am finding energy for myself.

 

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Always Learning

Every day we have a series of opportunities to learn more. This can be down to learning a trade, skill, craft, discipline. It can also be about learning/discovering more about yourself. I love to learn. Love it. I say this because I forgot that about myself for a brief moment. I forgot how much I am a lover of learning. I have always been able to say this about myself but for a brief moment I forgot that this is truly a huge part of me. Recognizing this, reclaiming this brings the focus back to where it is needed. Love, Learning and self are at the center of a new journey.

Last night, I bought new shoes.

 

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Build a Bridge

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I recently had an opportunity to go on retreat with myself. I escaped for a few days from my daily grind in order to let go of some internal baggage and hopefully fall a little bit in love with myself. I quickly honed in and realised that I am no longer interested in ripping open old wounds, reliving bad moments of my past or bringing up a lot of garbage that has weighed me down, only to wallow in it. I am okay doing all of that as long as I see it, identify, learn, and move on. I want to Build a Bridge and get over it.

This is crucial. This is liberating. I am open to an exorcism if I know I have some cleansing and cleaning power at the ready.

I am fortunate. I have a great therapist. I have a wonderful husband and children. Everyone is on my team, encouraging me to keep the celebration of myself going…it took a lot to get to this place , but I am proud I am here.

Since my personal retreat, I have experienced a couple of potential stress hurricanes. I was somewhat surprised with my ability to quickly access a place of calm openness and a powerful commitment to my own limitations. There is strength in saying I am at my capacity. It helps you move forward without picking up more than you can handle. I was able to listen to a troubled friend without getting consumed by the drama or hurt. I have had a habit in the past to take it on in order to help their pain…meanwhile clogging my own ability to move on. No more. I also was at work and a colleague wanted to take my time without respect or efficiency. I said no. I was firm. I stated that I am limited for time and I cannot extend myself anymore especially if there is no plan, agenda or clear objective to how my time will be used. That is a HUGE accomplishment for me. I can suffer from wanting to please or feeling that its better if I give to all…and again it leaves me flattened and furious. Not this time. I learned something crucial at my retreat: Taking on more, carrying more burden does NOT make you stronger. It can weaken you and defeat you. There is so much strength in setting limits and respecting your abilities…it is true self perseverance and love. Strength comes from love.

So yea…I am building a bridge.