tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91340170184379179272024-03-20T08:11:16.718-07:00MamaManagementA BLOG ABOUT LIFE AND BOOKS AND FOODUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger249125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-11202981662872830782024-03-20T07:56:00.000-07:002024-03-20T07:56:03.741-07:00Climbing Menopause Mountain<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATCydl2lg7s8ZeStkaldSTauq5zdcQSkcOWtNEUTkLiB5SwbNvOhmndEWEh598H52k2iTTkiel9UiK8hDrcOJXnVJQDrOaIk9bV4rkWPCTnYar4mpw7xxGig1wwUZgaCCgeaXeCMLIZQLe_NjVzKR6-UfYIgS7Jf8htxay5hyY9mNtlnyP96Cxo7r1Lk/s612/istockphoto-1288385045-612x612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="612" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATCydl2lg7s8ZeStkaldSTauq5zdcQSkcOWtNEUTkLiB5SwbNvOhmndEWEh598H52k2iTTkiel9UiK8hDrcOJXnVJQDrOaIk9bV4rkWPCTnYar4mpw7xxGig1wwUZgaCCgeaXeCMLIZQLe_NjVzKR6-UfYIgS7Jf8htxay5hyY9mNtlnyP96Cxo7r1Lk/w335-h218/istockphoto-1288385045-612x612.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>Welcome to Menopause Mountain, and the Menopause Triad (PeriMenopause + Menopause + PostMenopause). This phase of life for woman can begin as early as 35 (though 40-45 is more typical) and basically lasts until you're dead. Yay! As I have moved through adulthood, I found our culture has talked of this thing called Menopause as though it's the flipping of a switch. One day you're a regular, child-bearing-capable woman, and the next you've hit Menopause and life is over. But that's not even close to the truth. First of all, life isn't over at Menopause. Life metamorphasizes at Menopause. A woman's life becomes something new and different. <p></p><p>And second, it is definitely not at the flip of a switch! </p><p>I've decided to think about this as a journey. Like Bilbo Baggins of Hobbit fame, I was all but dragged from my cozy, humble homeostasis into a perilous adventure. Unlike Bilbo Baggins, I wouldn't be slaying orcs or getting lost in caverns. No, I would be climbing Menopause Mountain. A potentially 10+ year adventure involving a harrowing journey to the top and then an equally slippery descent down the other side. Also unlike Bilbo Baggins, there'd be no Gandolf on my side. Just me, my girlfriends, and the internet. (And doctors...a little bit.)</p><p>The bad news was that I'd be leaving behind my youthful reproductive years. The worse news was that the journey would be long and rough. But the good news was that there was supposedly bliss on the other side. </p><p>A calm meadow with a babbling brook. A sandy beach along an ocean with gentle waves. A cozy library with lattes and books. </p><p>I just needed to tackle that mountain and that glorious respite would be mine...in 10+ years.</p><p>The journey begins with PeriMenopause, a term I'd never even heard of until I was in it. PeriMenopause is the transition from child-bearing years to non-child-bearing years. During this time, a woman's body releases eggs less regularly, produces less estrogen and other hormones, becomes less fertile, and has shorter and more irregular menstrual cycles.</p><p>Actual Menopause is just a day. Seriously. Menopause is the day you haven't had a period for 365 days. That's it. The next day? Welcome to PostMenopause.</p><p>Here's a (non-exhaustive) list of possible PeriMenopause symptoms:</p><p>- Mood changes, including increase in anxiety or depression, as well as general irritability</p><p>- Changes in sexual desire</p><p>- Fatigue</p><p>- Irregular periods, sometimes with very heavy flow</p><p>- Trouble concentrating or brain fog</p><p>- Headaches</p><p>- Night Sweats</p><p>- Hot flashes/flushes</p><p>- Vaginal dryness</p><p>- Trouble with sleep</p><p>- Joint and muscle aches</p><p>- Heavy sweating</p><p>- Weight gain</p><p>- Frequent urination</p><p>- PMS-like symptoms</p><p>- As well as loss of bone and changing cholesterol levels</p><p>That's a lot of shit.</p><p>Now, some of you may only experience a few of these symptoms and your symptoms may be quite mild. If that's you, well, good for you. But for the rest of us, this can be a trying road of feeling betrayed by your body. </p><p>I am quite happy to leave behind my reproductive years. I have reproduced twice and that is exactly the right amount for me. I do not wish to do it again. But my body has gone wackadoo beginning in my early 40s, and that has not been an enjoyable experience. And because I had children a bit later than average, this crap hit me when I was knee-deep in the early (hardest) years of motherhood. Not a great combo.</p><p>For me, Perimenopause began with a marked increase in anxiety. Like, it went from manageable life/mom stress to panic attacks in public places in the blink of an eye. So I went from unmedicated to medicated in my early forties (because disintegrating in a public library is no bueno).</p><p>Then my periods lost all control. A 17-21 day cycle, and bleeding so bad I ended up in the ER once because I thought I was hemorrhaging. (I was not, thank goodness. But I have struggled with anemia off and on ever since.) And the PMS became unbearable. I started having debilitating cramps like I had in high school, before going on birth control pills. So, my doctor put me on birth control pills to help with these symptoms.</p><p>My symptoms seemed to be under control for a while, thanks to the help of these medications. And then I crossed into my mid-to-late 40s and all hell broke loose again. Another spike in anxiety and PMS symptoms, meant dosage increases in my meds. And then came the weight gain, hot flashes, night sweats, brain fog, and fatigue. This is when PeriMenopause became the What The Fuck years. It felt like every day was a new adventure in what the hell was my body going to do today. I started to feel a bit crazy...like I was really losing my marbles.</p><p>My normally crackerjack brain just wasn't working right, and I had so little energy. My meds were helping, but I was still on a daily rollercoaster of mental, emotional, and physical turmoil. And the fucking hot flashes and night sweats? Forget about it. Absolutely ridiculous. I would wake up drenched in sweat and freezing. Sometimes I've had to get up and change clothes. I've bought all kinds of new pajamas and breathable bedding. I have a fan going at all times and the room temp turned down as low as my family will allow, and still, it happens. </p><p>About a year ago I started playing tennis again (best decision ever!). At the end of an hour and a half of court play, everyone is a little sweaty. I, on the other hand, have drenched my clothes. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable a soaking wet sports bra is? </p><p>And still I have not reached the summit of Menopause Mountain. I can see it now, but I'm not yet there. I think the average age for The Menopause is 51, so I have high hopes for the next year. But every woman's tale of PostMenopause is different. Some see relief from symptoms quite quickly, and others don't. I've crossed all the body parts, not just my fingers, that I'll be one of the lucky ones and things will calm the hell down next year. Meanwhile, I just keep climbing.</p><p>And as I climb, I work on my mindset about the whole thing. This isn't hell, it's an adventure. I'm Bilbo Baggins and I'm fighting the good fight. I'm trying to work with my body rather than resent it. I've learned to love my larger body and try to give it the movement and nourishment it needs. And I've tried to lower my standards for my brain's response time. It's okay to drop a ball here and there. It's okay to have to wait an extra second or two (or 120) for the word I'm looking for to show up. There's a lot of stuff in there and it can be hard to find things. (Incidentally, I like to image a crotchety old librarian pushing a book cart around inside my brain telling my to keep my voice down, she'll be with me in a minute whenever this happens.)</p><p>But I do think we need more education in our society about this time of life. Like, it should be taught in middle school health class and then reiterated at doctor's appointments in your late 30s. Women should know what might be coming as they enter their 40s so they are not blindsided by symptoms and think they're cracking up, like I did. And we all need to talk about it more. I don't ever remember my mom talking about PeriMenopause symptoms when she was going through it. But I can tell you for sure that my kids know about it. My daughter may be surprised when it happens to her, but at least she'll know what it is.</p><p>So, tell your daughters about what you're experiencing. And talk to your friends about it. Tell your doctors, too. Because they need to learn to be more open with patients about this phase of life-- before we even start asking questions. The more open we are about all the phases of life as a woman, and how different they all can be, the better equipped we'll all be to handle things. We need to support each other and celebrate these cycles of life. Because even with all the negatives of this Menopause Triad, I'm still more contented with life than ever. Though trying at times, this is something to look forward to. This isn't a curse or the free-fall to the old hagdom. This is a freeing. A wisening. A beautiful metamorphosis. This is when we get to open our new, beautiful wings and fly.</p><p>Until next time, stay cool my friends.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-72983505172748762892024-03-12T05:08:00.000-07:002024-03-12T05:08:27.924-07:00ON TURNING 50<p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAA3hSXH-mEtkbNO-l14hw0hbc6hJTyJfjBKfnwicUY9wFqbXrhGlDuq6dc3w4vJN7DEesDzk-C81TretKJISOPVHBolr0bNFSuj-_G5kZJ8orMHSlymjdL7WH0rGGwmIjZozPO3SUAPfz8rFTyhiAlVvqtfYaD-gQqA_fAgqNUFJCsQwkcf8lXVs7MZw/s600/GoldPanOnBank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="600" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAA3hSXH-mEtkbNO-l14hw0hbc6hJTyJfjBKfnwicUY9wFqbXrhGlDuq6dc3w4vJN7DEesDzk-C81TretKJISOPVHBolr0bNFSuj-_G5kZJ8orMHSlymjdL7WH0rGGwmIjZozPO3SUAPfz8rFTyhiAlVvqtfYaD-gQqA_fAgqNUFJCsQwkcf8lXVs7MZw/s320/GoldPanOnBank.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I turned 50 a few days ago. A turning of the page that I have dreaded since I initially found 40 a more difficult than expected milestone. But as I neared "the big day", I found myself unable to muster a whole lot of bluster for the event. Thanks to the roller coaster of good and bad that has been my late 40s (here's looking at you, Covid Shutdown and MF'ing Perimenopause...but also moving and kids growing up), I've found a new perspective on life. One that has little to do with numbers...be that years gone by, the force of gravity on my body's mass (aka, my weight), the amount of accomplishments and money I've accrued, or any other number we're told to worry about. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So, though it's been a long time since I've used this platform, I thought I'd share a few things I've learned...Both for the camaraderie (you are not alone!) and the edification of those coming up the years-ladder behind me and who may be a little wary of the BIG 5-0 rung.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here are some of the pleasantly surprising Ah-Ha's that have come with turning 50: </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>While I haven't done all of the things I thought I would do by now, I <i>am</i> living the day-to-day life I hoped I'd be living by now.</b> Turning 50 is a great time to stop and look around. (To be clear, so is every year, month, and day as it turns anew.) If you're a relatively driven, growth-oriented person like me who always has goals and a mile-long list of things you want to do, it can be easy to always feel like you're not doing enough. Or you're not getting anywhere because the to-do list is ever-growing. But stop and take a good long look at your life. How much of it do you love? How much of it is what you've always wanted? How much of it feels satisfying or just plain good?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">WARNING: DO NOT DO THIS IF YOU'RE IN YOUR TWENTIES. THE ANSWERS WILL ALL BE 'LITTTLE-TO-NOTHING' AND YOU WILL GET DEPRESSED. THESE ARE QUESTIONS ONLY FOR THOSE 45+. YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE DONE ANYTHING IN YOUR TWENTIES!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I asked myself these questions, and guess what? I'm living the life I always wanted. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When I was in my twenties, what I wanted most was to find someone to love who loved me back. At 50? I found that person a quite a while ago and we have built an amazing life together and have a solid, loving relationship that brings me joy (</span><span style="font-family: arial;">most) every day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I wanted kids, too. And here I sit, the mom of two awesome teens who I both love and adore, and actually like. I wanted to have a beautiful house. (Got it.) I wanted to live near my favorite city, Chicago. (Live there.) I wanted to stay close with my family and have some really great friends. (Check.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I always wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write books, but I never really thought it was possible... until my niece showed me it was by writing a novel of her own as a teenager. Now I chase the dream of being traditionally published. And I haven't gotten there yet. But at 50? I've written over 6 full length novels! That's pretty f'ing cool. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And art...I always wanted to be good at art. I always enjoyed everything from being crafty to "real painting." But I never thought I'd be good enough. Turns out, being good enough doesn't actually matter. You can just paint and craft and do your own things and no one has to like any of it...not even you! So, now, at 50, I paint and craft and share what I make, and I love it!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Day in and day out, the ways I spend my days: writing, painting, volunteering, taking care of my home and family--this is the stuff dreams are made of. At least <i>my</i> dreams.</span></p><p><b style="font-family: arial;">Every decade has its ups and downs, its positives and negatives. But... Life is better at 50 than it was at 20 or 30 or 40. </b><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In your twenties</i> you look amazing (even if you don't think you do, trust me, you do) and physically feel pretty good much of the time. These are the two things you will miss about your twenties as you get older. They are pretty much the only things you will miss (except for maybe the freedom of not having to take care of anyone but yourself). Otherwise, your twenties are a roller coaster of highs and lows...the highs are AMAZING!! But the lows really, really suck. Like, REALLY. And a lot of the middle ground is just, meh.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>The thirties</i> are all about CHANGE. Everything changes in your thirties. There are marriages, babies, job changes, body changes. Your universe expands and your life starts to revolve around something other than you. And sometimes you lose yourself entirely--either in a relationship, motherhood, or a career. Something usurps you. This something may be awesome, but you'll spend many years trying to find a balance between its wants and needs and your own.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Then come the forties</i>. The forties are a time of transition and recalibration. Maybe your kids are getting older and you're realizing you lost yourself in motherhood. Maybe you're finally established in your career, or maybe you're deciding you chose the wrong one, or it's simply time for a change. Maybe your marriage is coming out of the hardest phase--parenting young children together-and you're rediscovering each other, or maybe you're deciding you picked the wrong life partner. Regardless of your choices, this is often a time of reckoning with said choices and making some alterations. (I originally typed "altercations" here. I changed it to what I meant to type, but there may be altercations involved, too.) This is the time when you rejigger things. Decide what's really important and make changes to reflect that in your life. This decade has the metamorphosis in which you change the leadership of your life from mind to soul. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>And this harkens the fifties</i>. And the fifties are where you learn to feel good in your soul. If your soul says yes, you say yes. Does that feel good? Yes. Does that feel bad? No. Is that what I really want? Yes. Is that not really what I want? No. The center of your universe expands again. It's not just you, but it's also not just your kids or partner or work. Now it encompasses only the important things your world. All that sifting you did in your forties has allowed you to center your universe around just the gold--just the people, places, things, ideas, and feelings that you love. The rest can just float away. And that's why this is the beginning of the best time of life. You've done so much of the work, now you enjoy the fruits of your labor.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It seems to me, that the twenties are the age of the body. The thirties and early forties are the age of the mind. And the late forties and fifties begin the age of the spirit. This is where you embark on the road of enlightenment.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And this tells me that our society has misplaced its reverence on being young and its focus on the body. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Being young is a gauntlet. It's a race from one milestone to the next, from one lesson learned to the next, from one super-high to the next super-low. And it's fucking exhausting. (That's why we sleep so much in our teens and twenties. We're exhausted.) This is not a time to be revered, it's a time to be endured. I'm not saying that you can't be happy in your twenties...but I kinda am saying that. Happiness is fleeting when you're young. It's a firefly on a summer's night. Burn bright. Then, Blink. Blink. And it's gone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Not so at 50. Happiness stays longer here. It stretches out like a cat in the sun.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm not sugar-coating this, though. There are negatives to getting older (see also my next post on the Menopause Triad, also known as the What The Fuck Years for women)...but they are far outweighed by the positives. Regardless, here are some of the negatives:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">-<b> Where did that spot/lump/bruise/rash come from? AKA Why is my body doing this now?</b> One of the weirdest things about getting older is watching your body change in ways you never really expected. And I'm not talking about wrinkles. Everyone knows that wrinkles are a part of aging. But nobody tells you the about the ways your hair will change all over your body--the texture, the color, the location. It all changes. And your skin? Forget about it. Your skin goes crazy. I have a condition called Granuloma Annulare. It is a basically benign skin condition that involves unsightly red, circular spots on the skin. They are not painful or contagious. And the medical world also has no idea what causes them or how to make them go away. So, now I am a pink and white leopard-lady. For no reason. And I'm lucky. Your spots might be basal cell carcinoma. Thanks to years of sunning without spf, now some spots have to be burned, frozen, or scraped off. Fun.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">- <b>Why does this hurt?/Why does everything hurt?</b> Also part of body wear and tear. Something happens as we add mileage to these meat machines, and things start to hurt. As in you "tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen" not because you had a late night, but because your low back hurts and the only way out of bed it to roll off the edge; and your knee is acting up so walking = stumbling; and you've got a crick in your neck from something called "sleeping wrong."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">- <b>I can't read that.</b> The eyes go early. And they go fast. This typically happens around 48. You just begin to find words a little softer around the edges as you read. Then one day you will wake up and be completely unable to read any small print without a pair of readers. It's not just a wee bit fuzzy anymore, it is a complete blur. Give up. Buy 20 pairs of readers from the drug store and stash them all over the house.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">- <b>Can someone turn that down/up?</b> This one is curious. I'm more affected by loud noises, but I also can't hear quite as well. It's a paradox. Loud places make my skin crawl--turn that shirt down! But I can't understand a damn thing Ted Lasso is saying--turn that shit up!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">- <b>Where is my phone/glasses/keys/coffee/etc? And its sisters, Why did I come here? And What was I going to say?</b> This is the mind letting go of what it doesn't deem important. Decades old song lyrics = important. Where you put your keys = unimportant. You've got to have priorities and our brains' priorities are a little out of whack.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But those are all mere trifles for what you get in return. Things like: More...Peace. Contentment. Calm. Intention. Knowing. Quiet Joy. Sweet Laughter. Time. Appreciation. Acceptance. Gratitude. Purposeful Meandering. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The rough waters even out and there are more languid pools of love and fewer white water rapids. Life becomes a little less big city rush hour and a little more small town parade.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Does that sound boring? It's not. It's a relief. If you're lucky enough to live a long, full life, I have a feeling that might be how it ends. Things get a bit slower and slower as the decades go by. And each level of slowing is a bit of relief. Until stopping becomes a relief, too.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But I'm not there yet, so I'll have to let you know in a few decades.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For now, I am 50. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And 50 is good.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Until next time, friends, happy life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-89222624501500363652021-08-03T06:47:00.003-07:002021-08-03T06:47:44.684-07:00Mid-Life Crisis. Quarter-Life Crisis. Existential Crisis. ...Why Are We Here?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2F2uBHH6OoTZKwjz6lUOA5ED81fdhdtNkQnsVm2HSEm3uFtktFBKhOn29_GFH84QbkXmoSYKveg8lQPwuIyvW6bceyWt1DeT7Ez0TCvOCAOfZWy1vEfCWfoR68ORCON-6IhYAvKLAQgQ/s2048/Listten+to+your+heart+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1407" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2F2uBHH6OoTZKwjz6lUOA5ED81fdhdtNkQnsVm2HSEm3uFtktFBKhOn29_GFH84QbkXmoSYKveg8lQPwuIyvW6bceyWt1DeT7Ez0TCvOCAOfZWy1vEfCWfoR68ORCON-6IhYAvKLAQgQ/w275-h400/Listten+to+your+heart+painting.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><p><span> </span>When I think "Mid-Life Crisis," I think of a 45 year old man with a new, younger wife and a sports car...for some reason, in my head, he's a dentist...because that is what my culture has taught me a mid-life is. But that's not it.</p><p><span> </span>When I think "Quarter-Life Crisis," I think of John Mayer's song...cuz we went through that shit together, man. Me and John. We was tight in our twenties.</p><p><span> </span>Personally, I have existential crises. Which is the same thing as mid-life and quarter-life crises, but I have them, like, once every year or two, so they're not tied to age or stage.</p><p><span> </span>I assume other people experience this too-- these moments of questioning whether our lives have purpose, meaning, and value-- since there's a term for it. Right? </p><p><span> </span>Do you? </p><p><span> </span>I wonder...How often do others question their life's purpose and their reason for being? Are you looking for meaning and purpose on the regular? Are there people out there who are stable and comfortable in their reason for being? Like, they've figured it out and are confident that they are living their purpose, so it's no longer a question? Are there people who just know their days are filled with meaning so there's no need to question those things anymore?</p><p><span> </span>If you're out there, can you tell me how you do it?</p><p><span> </span>I imagine anyone in "helping careers" feels this way. Like healthcare workers, teachers, social workers, anyone who works for a charity or pet rescue, etc...those jobs come with an automatic knowing the you're doing something good with your time and energy. You're making a difference in the world, regardless of what you do with the rest of your time.</p><p><span> </span>There are parts of my life that I am confident in--my kids, my husband, my family. I know that <i>part</i> of my purpose is my people. But what about the rest of it?</p><p><span> </span>I spent the better part of yesterday running around-- running errands, taking kids places, getting things done around the house, meeting with people who are doing work on our house. By 5pm I was crabby and tired, so I took some time for myself. I meditated, worked out, ate, went for a walk, showered...and I felt better. But I didn't feel better about my day. It seemed like such a waste.</p><p><span> </span>So I journaled for an hour about what I'm doing with my life and whether or not it has meaning, whether or not I should keep doing what I'm doing or change my path again. And I didn't really get to any answers. My questions just led to more questions and my answers just led me in a circle right back to where I'd started. So I'm bringing my questions to you all.</p><p><span> </span>Tell me, what are your thoughts on the meaning of life and living your life's purpose? How do you look at how you spend your time each day versus what it means to live a full life, a life of meaning?</p><p><span> </span>Is it more important to "get a real job" that somehow contributes to society and is in an interest area of yours (for me this might be working at a library, teaching or tutoring in some way, or working with a pet rescue), OR to continue going after a dream that may never become a reality?</p><p><span> </span>In case you're new around here, I am an as-yet-unpublished writer. I write middle grade and young adult books that have yet to be published. And I put a fair amount of time and energy into these projects. Think of it as a part-time job level commitment within my days.</p><p><span> </span>I've always wanted to be a writer, but I've never had any actual "achievements" in writing. (I'm good, but I'm not quite sure that I'm "good enough.") I have a purpose behind my writing, but that purpose cannot be realized unless people read my work. </p><p><span> </span>I want to connect with people through my writing. I want them to be entertained, but I also want them to feel less alone. I want them to feel understood, like someone else out there in the universe is going through what they're going through, feeling what they're feeling. Someone else gets it...and gets them.</p><p><span> </span>But I can't connect with people like that if they never have a chance to read what I write. So, at what point do you say, this approach to my goal isn't working. Maybe I should try another way. Maybe I should work at a library and help connect people to other authors' books that may speak to them. Maybe I should go try to help animals find forever homes, since I'm not allowed to just adopt them all myself.</p><p><span> </span>Which path makes the most sense for me?</p><p><span> </span>I don't know the answer, but I think I'm seeking from you assurance that I'm not alone in questioning these things. Do you have your own version of these kinds of questions? Do you wonder about your path? Do you question how you spend your time and whether or not it's worth the days and hours of our short time here on earth?</p><p><span> </span>Do you ever pause while playing a game on your phone and think, what will I think about spending my time this way when I'm on my deathbed?</p><p><span> </span>Is this too much for a stupid little blog post?</p><p><span> </span>Comment. Message me. Tell me I'm not alone in this. Share with me your wisdom. And if you're one of those unicorns that's got it figured out (as much as it can be...as much as it makes you feel comfortable in your days, weeks, and months), tell me your secrets. </p><p><span> </span>Connect with me in that way I want to connect with others through my writing.</p><p><span> </span>Tell me I'm not the only one living in existential crisis land.</p><p><span> </span>Until next time, keep living your purpose, whatever that purpose may be.</p><p><span> </span>Namaste.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-76924440916005034242021-04-01T04:57:00.004-07:002021-04-01T04:57:47.600-07:00The Next Right Thing: Following Your Intuition In Your Daily Life<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisw5MvcFWwLDceo6Dto6MFzJNT2FMHIl0m-NX2p89v7tsmZeYscJQ-tQyD9XeuqCiuaTMeqZRF74dEEnRBMeINDXkVeqKRsK3nJKOkAR6ywnV69_oVAzuFHjyEFjKEFJ3ALM4XY1dH5Y0/s2048/Go+where+your+heart+takes+you+painting.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1984" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisw5MvcFWwLDceo6Dto6MFzJNT2FMHIl0m-NX2p89v7tsmZeYscJQ-tQyD9XeuqCiuaTMeqZRF74dEEnRBMeINDXkVeqKRsK3nJKOkAR6ywnV69_oVAzuFHjyEFjKEFJ3ALM4XY1dH5Y0/s320/Go+where+your+heart+takes+you+painting.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Does your schedule run your life? </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Does your to-do list? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you find yourself often running on autopilot, mindlessly accomplishing tasks barely aware of what you're doing...and maybe even why you're doing it? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you ever look at certain processes at work (or at home) and think, why do we even do this? Or, why do we do it this way? And the only real answer is because that's how we've always done it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I have. Especially the to-do list thing. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Living your life on autopilot, doing things just to check them off a list, doing things simply because we've always done them...these are all signs of mindless living. And mindless living can, quite easily, lead to anxiety and depression. (Case in point: my list making started as an anxiety coping mechanism. (Write it down then you won't worry about forgetting to do it.) But it eventually turned into an anxiety inciter when the lists started running my life.)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When you're asleep at the wheel of your own life, following an outdated roadmap that someone else created, it's nearly impossible to have a meaningful, fulfilling life. Which is why it's so important to wake up. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">An easy-to-relate-to mindless living example is to mindless eating, because pretty much everyone has done it at least occasionally.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Mindless eating looks like eating by a clock rather than by your body's cues. (It's 7am, time for breakfast. Noon? Time for lunch. 6pm? Dinner.) Mindless eating also looks like habit. (Whenever I sit down in front of the TV at night, I must have a snack. Because I'm hungry? Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But habit tells me: snack!) Mindless eating can also be multitasking while you eat. (Eating while you watch TV, read, check email, work, or look at your phone.) Mindless eating is looking down at your plate (or bag of chips, or container of ice cream), shocked to find it empty. How did I eat the whole bag or the entire pint? It's really any kind of eating in which you're not actually focused on the food and the act of eating.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I think most of us are aware of the concept of mindless eating. And most of us have experienced it ourselves--for some of us at every meal. But what about mindless living? Blindly following the schedule. Living for checking things off the list. Accepting and following cultural norms simply because they're norms. Letting something outside ourselves tell us how to spend our every minute.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's not good, friends. It's just not. We need to wake up and check back into our lives. We need to find a better way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">For me, right now, that better way is something I call, The Next Right Thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The idea is pretty simple: Instead of mindlessly moving from task to task each day, or being stressed out by the length of my to-do list and how I'll get it all done, I simply focus on one task at a time. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When that task is done, I pause and think about the transition to the next thing. I consider what to do next and ask myself what feels right. Am I hungry? Maybe it's time to eat. Am I sleepy? Do I need to move? Step outside for some fresh air? Go pet the dog for a minute or two? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I just ask myself: What's the next right thing? And then I let my intuition (body/gut/instinct/little voice inside/whatever you want to call it) guide me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course, we all have certain things that are scheduled to start at certain times and we need to respect the time we promise to other people. But if you give it a go, I promise you'll find more times than you might expect throughout your day that you can ask yourself, What's the next right thing?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Right now, as I'm writing this blog post, I can sense myself getting a little antsy. I can tell I need to move soon. (I notice this because I'm learning to become more tuned in to my body and the signals it sends me.) So, I'm going to practice what I preach right now. I'm pausing here for a moment to ask myself: What's the next right thing? Is it finishing this post before I do anything else? Or is it taking a break to stretch and maybe eat something, and then coming back to finish this? (Answer? I need the break.)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm back and feeling more able to focus and less heavy-eyed, so I think taking a break was the right choice. And before I came back to writing, I asked myself again: What's the next right thing? Because maybe I needed spend some time painting or gathering laundry or working on novel revisions before I came back to this task. And that would be okay.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I find that if I tune in to my body, my body is pretty clear about what it needs and when. I also find I'm more successful at tasks when I take cues from my gut. It feels like doing the right thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Try it out for yourself. Experiment. Pick a day to slow down and tune in and give some thought to how you spend your time. Do you really want to spend the next twenty minutes scrolling social media? Maybe you do. But maybe you're just mindlessly doing it because it's a habit, or it's right in front of you, so it's easy. Maybe, if you checked in with yourself you'd rather make a cup of tea or go for a walk or organize your filing cabinet. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Until next time, ask yourself: What's the next right thing? And try doing that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><strike>Namaste in bed.</strike></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><strike>Namaste, bitches.</strike></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Namaste.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-13188984556284349802021-03-18T06:06:00.000-07:002021-03-18T06:06:08.663-07:00Burnout<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEmhBqDc8_r4y8UAmnIKoFojcaGRHvr-TbRAuBK58Zimm1CjrTDrk1Q8iFhNahNknpQbF_FLLxfA1w5-bQ7iBVCP_ecbN3JhWTkRrro28o9CgPfP9qj9ULrtLsLH4JKTUswXTmXRousk/s2048/Listten+to+your+heart+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1407" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEmhBqDc8_r4y8UAmnIKoFojcaGRHvr-TbRAuBK58Zimm1CjrTDrk1Q8iFhNahNknpQbF_FLLxfA1w5-bQ7iBVCP_ecbN3JhWTkRrro28o9CgPfP9qj9ULrtLsLH4JKTUswXTmXRousk/w275-h400/Listten+to+your+heart+painting.jpg" width="275" /></a></div>Anyone else feeling it? This feeling...like your slogging through swamplandia. The grey skies. The winter weather relapse. The seemingly never ending pandemic. The daily slog that feels like a 2 ton truck on your shoulders and mud and muck under your feet. The exhaustion. The lack of patience. The feel of being at the pathetic, frayed end of your rope.<p></p><p>It's called <span style="font-size: large;">Burnout</span>. </p><p>Burnout is what happens when we don't take care of ourselves--or our jobs/responsibilities don't allow us to take care of ourselves. It's the state of emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion caused by excessive and prolonged stress. It's feeling overwhelmed, emotionally drained, and unable to meet constant demands.</p><p>(Yeah, that sounds about right.)</p><p>Burnout is characterized by...</p><p>- poor performance and reduced creativity (check)</p><p>- difficulty focusing (check)</p><p>- lack of motivation (check)</p><p>- feeling helpless/hopeless to fix things (check)</p><p>- exhaustion (check)</p><p>- headaches, stomachaches, or body aches (check)</p><p>- disillusionment or cynicism about your work/responsibilities (check)</p><p>Burnout can affect your energy levels, physical pain levels, appetite, sleep habits, and immunity. You may find you're starting to doubt yourself or feel like a failure. You may feel detached from the world around you. You might feel trapped or defeated. You may feel less satisfaction with accomplishments. And you likely have an increasingly negative outlook on most everything. </p><p>Burnout has a way of seeping from one area (let's say work) into all aspects of your life (like family and home life). You may start withdrawing from responsibilities and isolating yourself from others. And you might start taking your frustration out on those around you (losing your cool and yelling at people--like your kids or your spouse...hello.). You might find yourself leaning on food or alcohol to cope. And you may start procrastinating or just skipping things altogether.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmyoD9SXCSxOO33r-1yRRyjyyZQ2QB3Q0oume0EhCuSn4rQumJBwxGDlB4xkX5opCoYX6icxs01OdgdUL54Hgfcg3n4i-KsHh8CSezOtA2c1pambUOe6LbcnnWe1S-H51w6GCUVHX9AsQ/s739/Mawlawiyyah-Mevleviyah-Turkish-Mevleviyah-Mawlawi%25CC%2584yah-the-dancing-dervish-and-Turkish-tanura-is-a-Sufi-2-739x430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="739" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmyoD9SXCSxOO33r-1yRRyjyyZQ2QB3Q0oume0EhCuSn4rQumJBwxGDlB4xkX5opCoYX6icxs01OdgdUL54Hgfcg3n4i-KsHh8CSezOtA2c1pambUOe6LbcnnWe1S-H51w6GCUVHX9AsQ/w200-h116/Mawlawiyyah-Mevleviyah-Turkish-Mevleviyah-Mawlawi%25CC%2584yah-the-dancing-dervish-and-Turkish-tanura-is-a-Sufi-2-739x430.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Burnout is different from plain old stress. <p></p><p>Imagine stress as a whirling dervish. Stress is over-engaged, over-reactive, urgent, hyperactive, and anxious. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7elgICU-qxSOXmKRNTFPHgb-dmIubo7aHglgVjRUkuhPGjgUJ0sgfYT0-RA-3zdnKjEDNomOREZmyeORCcXtt3Q5ocfSyl4ir7OJO17GOC6xofk0ce7heEDpA-zg_rHSiQTcrwh6sVk/s1300/91865973-sad-sloth-sticker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="1300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7elgICU-qxSOXmKRNTFPHgb-dmIubo7aHglgVjRUkuhPGjgUJ0sgfYT0-RA-3zdnKjEDNomOREZmyeORCcXtt3Q5ocfSyl4ir7OJO17GOC6xofk0ce7heEDpA-zg_rHSiQTcrwh6sVk/w200-h200/91865973-sad-sloth-sticker.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Then imagine burnout as a sad sloth. Burnout is disengaged, blunted, unmotivated, and hopeless.<p></p><p>Burnout can feel a lot like depression (and it can lead to depression over time), though it is different. Burnout is situational. It shows up in response to our circumstances and how we're dealing with them. This is good news, actually. Because there are some very tangible things we can do to address burnout.</p><p>The first step is to recognize what's going on. (Freaking awareness, man. It's always begins with awareness.) If you can relate to much of what is written above--if you're thinking, yeah, that's me-- then you might be experiencing burnout. If that's the case, acknowledge that you've let things go too far. See it for what it is and then take steps to reverse it.</p><p>First, the obvious: if you can, <b>Take a vacation or break, of some sort</b>. Get away from your daily grind. Whether that means a trip somewhere, an overnight at a nearby hotel, a day off to do nothing, a spa day, an afternoon at the park. Take as much time as you can and spend it somewhere else, doing something else than is your norm. Just take some time away and recharge your battery.</p><p>Then, when you're a little refreshed, reassess the things going on in your life that are causing the burnout, and...</p><p><b>Ask for help.</b> Reach out to people. Talk to a therapist or mentor or amazing best friend. Really talk it out. Seek advice. Lean on others. Also, try to be more sociable and find connections. Chat with your neighbor or your local barista. Meet a coworker for a cup of coffee or get out to lunch. Talk to your spouse. Feeling connected and supported can go a long way toward easing burnout. Even reading an inspirational book or listening to upbeat music can help you feel less alone in it all.</p><p><b>Reframe the way you look at your work/responsibilities. </b>Try to find some value in the work you do. Focus on the aspects you like and the positive impact you're having on others or the world at large. Consider volunteering for a cause you care about, or donating some of that hard-earned money to help others. The trick here is to see and feel the value in all that you do. You are not a hamster on a wheel, you are a human who has real impact in the world.</p><p><b>Reevaluate your priorities and set boundaries.</b> THIS IS A BIG ONE. This is where you look at how you got here in the first place, and what can you change so that it doesn't happen again. Revisit your goals and dreams and identify what you're neglecting. Set boundaries. This involves saying no to things and protecting your time and energy resources. Take a break from technology. Set a time each day and a day each week where you go tech-free. Maybe it's from 6-8pm on weekdays and all day Sunday so you can focus on your family. Set aside time to relax. And do something creative. Start a project or a new hobby. Paint a picture. Build a bookshelf. Learn to knit. Get crafty. Whatever suits your fancy.</p><p><b>Take care of yourself physically. </b>This means getting plenty of sleep. (That's 7-9 hours, people. Every. Single. Night.) It means moving your body. Do something...go for a walk, do some yoga, try a new HIIT workout, lift swing a kettle bell. And it means fueling your body with healthy food. Eat some fruits and vegetables. Cut back on the caffeine and sugar. Start taking a probiotic and Omega-3 supplement.</p><p><b>And don't wallow. </b>Wallowing doesn't get you anywhere. Burnout can make you want to sit on the couch like a bump on a log and just feel blah. (Raise your hands! WHo's with me?) But you need to take action. Look again at all of the ideas above. Pick one and do it today. Even if you don't want to. Even if you feel like you can't. Just do it. Get outside and go for a walk around the block. Eat an apple. Listen to your favorite song. Say no to someone's demand on your time. Call your best friend from college. Chat with your mom.</p><p><b>And after you do one thing, do another. </b>Make an appointment with a counselor. Book a hotel, or a massage. Set up a meeting with your boss to talk about managing your workload. Download an inspirational book to your phone and listen to it in the car.</p><p>Burnout is a real thing. And I'd be willing to bet that rates of burnout are at an all-time high right now. I know I'm feeling it. And so is everyone else in my household. But we CAN dig ourselves out of this hole. It IS doable. </p><p>And the sun will shine again. The birds will sing and our spirits will lift. And we will find purpose and meaning in our daily lives. We just need to REALLY see where we let the car go off the rails, and then take action to right the train.</p><p>Until next time, take better care of yourself. Take time for yourself. Respect yourself and your time. Take breaks. And find your joy. This (burnout) too shall pass.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-38160579411612668932021-03-08T06:58:00.000-08:002021-03-08T06:58:54.751-08:00Body Love<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjehJuB2p3-HevFqk_ElsT89QCIBsSevUeoMnkH19i1kEmXY1vnca_NSsDLbFObYvwChsvCMWu-WFGOcvNPaS0qbK_v8KYfSUcziOEbcFRtKIQfQcHXq1o9nNEC7CehbSL4_CAvZivumcQ/s2048/Find+the+joy+in+the+ordinary+painting.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1590" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjehJuB2p3-HevFqk_ElsT89QCIBsSevUeoMnkH19i1kEmXY1vnca_NSsDLbFObYvwChsvCMWu-WFGOcvNPaS0qbK_v8KYfSUcziOEbcFRtKIQfQcHXq1o9nNEC7CehbSL4_CAvZivumcQ/s320/Find+the+joy+in+the+ordinary+painting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I think maybe what we and our bodies need is<span style="font-size: large;"> more love. </span><div><br /></div><div>Two years years ago I wrote about Belly Love (Link: <a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2019/03/belly-love.html">MamaManagement Belly Love</a>) and I've recently been thinking more and more about how loving ourselves needs to become a practice, something we do every day. We need to make it a part of our daily routines. </div><div><br /></div><div>And affirmations are great--I'm a big believer in them. But I think when it comes to our bodies, we need to connect those kind words to our physical beings. I've talked before about lovingly rubbing my belly when I lotion after a shower in an effort to really accept its new Buddha-like softness. But it seems to me that our whole bodies...our whole selves need that kind of love.<p></p><p>I also know that new habits are easiest to implement when you attach them to existing habits--it's called habit stacking (It's from Atomic Habits. Great Book. Read it.) So, look at your day for opportunities to stack body love habits on top of existing habits. Here's what I'm thinking...</p><p>When you shower, no more mindlessly shampooing while you make a mental grocery list or add tasks to your mental to-do list, or just try to remember your name. Instead, take a mindful shower. Use the 5-10 minutes you're in there to thank your body. </p><p>Thank your legs for getting you around all day. For allowing you to climb the stairs twenty times while doing laundry and cleaning up after your amazing family. For pushing the gas pedal to get you to the grocery store. For letting you kneel in the yard to plant beautiful flowers.</p><p>Thank your arms for letting you hug your kids and lug that laundry basket up those stairs. As you wash your torso, thank your heart for beating and your lungs for breathing. Thank your breasts for feeding your children or looking damn fine in that clingy black sweater.</p><p>When you get out of the shower, continue giving your body love as you rub those lotions and potions into your skin, as you brush out your mane. </p><p>When you brush your teeth or put on your makeup, give yourself a mental boost with a few kind words to the woman in the mirror. </p><p><i>You're looking good today, gorgeous. </i></p><p><i>Hey sexy, loving those beachy waves. </i></p><p><i>Ooo, that color looks great on you.</i></p><p><i>Girl, you hot.</i></p><p>And my favorite:<i><span style="font-size: large;"> You are a badass.</span></i> (See Jen Sincero's You Are a Badass. I highly recommend reading it. I also like to say this one with a sassy, knowing wink and possibly a finger gun. But whatever works for you is great.)</p><p>And guess what? These aren't lies. Because you are a gorgeous, sexy, hot, badass. Just like you're also amazing, caring, smart, and talented. You are all these wonderful things that others can see, but you can't always see yourself. That's because we get too caught up in our own distorted view of ourselves. </p><p>So often we don't see the truth because we're too close to the image. We see the Monet from one inch away. Everyone else is seeing it from a few feet back. We scrutinize every line, every shade, and everything looks a mess. But if we could just step back and see ourselves how others see us--the whole picture, not the individual lines--we'd see an entirely different picture.</p><p>We'd see that the picture of us is not made complete not by the planes of our bodies, but by the love in our hearts and the song in our souls and the laughter in our eyes. We are beautiful to those who know and love us. So if we learn to know and love ourselves, then we too will see our own beauty.</p><p>Say it with me now...</p><p><i>I am a beautiful soul.</i></p><p><i>I am here for a reason and am worthy of love.</i></p><p><i>I am grateful for this body that allows me to experience this amazing world.</i></p><p><i>My body is good to me and I will be good to it.</i></p><p><i>I love my body and I love myself.</i></p><p><i>I will learn to see me the way others see me.</i></p><p><i>I will love myself as I love others.</i></p><p>Start today. Start right now. Give yourself some loving attention. Rub your belly and send it love. Soak your body in a warm bath then slather it in rich, creamy lotion. Deep condition your hair while you lay back, close your eyes, and take your brain on a mental vacation (I like to go to the beach or a meadow surrounded by woods.). Stand outside and feel the warmth of the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. Go for a gentle walk in nature. Have an orgasm. Give yourself a foot rub. Paint (or wrap) your toenails a color you love.</p><p>And say nice things to yourself. Talk to you the way you'd talk to a good friend--with loving kindness and a touch of humor.</p><p>And for the love of God, <span style="font-size: large;">BREATHE.</span> Deep and into your belly...Breathe.</p><p>Until next time, give that amazing body of your some real good loving.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-22587782397278990042021-02-28T12:29:00.000-08:002021-02-28T12:29:09.240-08:00Lose Yourself. Find Yourself. Repeat Et. Al.<p>Long time no see! I know. I sort of dropped off the face of the blog-earth for, like, a year. (#COVID) But I'm back! At least on occasion...when I have something to say, or think I can be of some help to you all while we're out here journeying through life together. So let's start this return to blogging with a commonly used adage in our world today:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBhDeKDvvWfl07lFowlLG5JLeSWUYBSWO7kbyC62gr4uUx16B7bzsETWLB1xSv8igD4mJBI7JYzO4ICoz3f5XBZYJgZozZSYivi4IgpwDu9LnEu8tfFtA4WwD9WS0AgQXGZaRRQwUhtk/s2048/Embrace+the+journey+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1559" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBhDeKDvvWfl07lFowlLG5JLeSWUYBSWO7kbyC62gr4uUx16B7bzsETWLB1xSv8igD4mJBI7JYzO4ICoz3f5XBZYJgZozZSYivi4IgpwDu9LnEu8tfFtA4WwD9WS0AgQXGZaRRQwUhtk/s320/Embrace+the+journey+2.jpg" /></a></div><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Embrace the journey. </span></i><p></p><p>How many times have you heard that encouragement? A hundred? A thousand? A hundred thousand? And how many times have you agreed with it? Nodded your head? Maybe responded, with an affirmation volley: Yes. It's about the journey, not the destination? Nod. Nod.</p><p>A lot.</p><p>And it's true. It's a great old adage--that's why it's an old adage. But these kinds of sayings aren't really just supposed to be taken at face value. We're not supposed to nod in agreement and then go back to scrolling on our phones or crying into our pints of ice cream. These sayings are meant to be internalized, absorbed, and digested. </p><p>Implemented, even!</p><p>There are times when I feel like I really am embracing the journey. Those are typically the good times. You know those moments when you look round you and truly see the beauty in the world and the people in your life--dappled sunlight through the trees, sunrise over snowcapped roofs, kids laughing and playing in the pool, your dog or cat curled up in your lap...</p><p>But I struggle with it when things aren't going well. When I get off track. Lost, not in the woods, but in the dark, back alleys of my life. That's when I'm not so much embracing the journey and all those stupid life lessons I have to learn. All those times I forget myself and things aren't going right. When I fall into old, nasty habits. When I forget all the lessons I've technically learned over the years...</p><p>And I do dumb things.</p><p>I'm not talking dumb, like robbing a bank or losing my job because I was late too many times or came to work drunk. I'm talking dumb like, I know I feel better and am healthier and happier when I exercise and eat healthfully most of the time. Yet, every so often...like whenever my life is disrupted by moving to a new city or having a child or some other big life event...I forget this. I convince myself that I'm happier lazing around and eating junk food on the regular.</p><p>Never in my life has this been true. Never. I have never felt better when I don't take care of myself physically. But I can convince myself of this when life goes haywire and everything feels outside of my control. It's like I become a testy adolescent giving a big ol' F-U to the healthy world of adulting. (I don't care if I know deep down that you're right. You can't make me do it.)</p><p>In addition to this arguably ridiculous behavior, it seems as though it is nearly impossible to have my shit together in all areas of my life at the same time. If I've got my health in line, then I'm ignoring my creative life. If I'm getting focused writing time, I'm ignoring my painting. If I'm working out and painting, I'm not spending quality time with the kids. Or I'm nailing mommydom and essentially ignoring my husband (that one lasted a while. sorry, hon.). </p><p>It's like playing a never ending game of hide and seek with myself. </p><p>I lose myself. I find myself. I lose myself. I find myself. I lose myself...you get the picture: Repeat ad nauseam. </p><p>But I typically only lose parts of myself each time. Imagine me as 7 people all rolled into one-- like in the movie <i>Inside Out</i>, only instead of different feelings in my head, there are different parts of me in there arguing and vying for attention: Artist, Writer, Mom, Wife, Daughter/Friend, Self (with a capital S), and Healthy Person. </p><p>Each of these parts has their own agenda and wants their stage time in the Amy Show. (Yes, I just referred to my life as the Amy Show. Get over it.)</p><p>When Healthy Amy is running the show, we're going out for walks, and working out, and drinking lots of water, and meditating, and eating healthy. When Artist Amy is in charge, we ignore lots of things (like making dinner for the family) in favor of making art as much as possible. And when Writer Amy is running things, a lot of time we write instead of going for a walk (and we drink lots of coffee). Just like when Mom Amy is running the show, we forget to take care of ourselves and we always put the kids first.</p><p>Each time one part takes the stage for too long, another part (or parts) gets lost. We forget about her...or not really forget...we ignore her. We look at Healthy Amy and think, 'I really should go for a walk and eat some greens,' and then turn a cold shoulder to her. No, no, we'll help our kids with their homework while making dinner and returning emails instead. We're fine without her.</p><p>But if I'm ignoring one part of my self for more than a day or two, that means we are not fine. </p><p>No writing for three months? Not fine. </p><p>No workouts for six months? Not fine. </p><p>No alone time for a Covid year? Not fine. </p><p>Of course, instead of acknowledging that truth and making sure that I never go more than two days without each part of me getting their stage time, I let one or more parts be ignored. And I suffer until some kind of wake up call slaps me upside the head.</p><p>This month's wake calls came in the following forms:</p><p>1. A few unsavory blood test results. (Giiiiiirrrrrrl. It ain't right.)</p><p>2. Not being able to easily get up after falling while skiing for the first time. (Legs just could not do it.)</p><p>3. Missing my critique deadline for a WIP book. (That book isn't going to write itself.)</p><p>4. Realizing I've missed all of my own writing deadlines for the last three months. (It's, like, really sad.)</p><p>5. Finally getting a day alone with the kids at in-person school (after eleven months without any of those) and realizing I haven't actually been able to focus for the last eleven months. (Attention has been divided and conquered...by my kids.)</p><p>So, what are you going to do about it, Amy? You ask.</p><p>Well, as the producer of this shit show I've decided that we need to make some immediate changes around here. Here's what I'm doing about it:</p><p>1. Revamping the workouts and eating, and giving my Healthy Self some serious stage time. (Sadly, this means no more oreos for a while.)</p><p>2. Getting back to the page and starting to schedule time for Writer Self to be on stage...a lot. (And I really mean "Schedule It." Like M/W/F 9-11.)</p><p>3. Setting better boundaries with the kids when they're schooling from home, so all of the Amys get some uninterrupted stage time. (There's a new sign on my office door. I had to rewrite it a couple of times until I could do it without F-Bombs.)</p><p>Yeah, I lost some parts of myself over the last few months...or last year or two. (Whatever.) But I'm finding them again. I'm making things right. Finding myself (my selves?). Winning at hide and seek. (And who doesn't like winning?)</p><p>Here's hoping I can find a stage sharing schedule that works for all my parts AND keep to it.</p><p>What about you? </p><p>Are there parts of yourself that you've been ignoring or sacrificing? If so, pull those parts out of the back of the closet, dust them off, and get those babies on stage. Give them the limelight. Make a schedule if you have to. Set reminders until it becomes habit again. Find whatever inspiration you need and tend to all your parts. (Yes, all of them.)</p><p>Find yourself. All seven or so parts. And give 'em some love and light.</p><p>Then, embrace the journey. (For reals.)</p><p>Until next time, be you, be well, and be well traveled on this journey.</p><p>xo</p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-55360767399115158862019-12-03T08:20:00.001-08:002019-12-03T08:20:51.889-08:00NaNoWriMo, The Holidays, & Lessons ReLearned<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's December 2nd, and the holiday season is officially in full swing. We've all just survived Thanksgiving, only to be thrown head first into the Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza/December Land of Craziness. This is normally the season of stress, anxiety, and overwhelm for me. At least it has been since I had kids.<br />
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In years past, I've started slipping down this stress-slope in September, with back-to-school. I pick up some serious speed as we careen through autumn and Halloween, fall on my butt come November as I attempt to write 50,000 words of a new book in NaNoWriMo, and then "handle" Thanksgiving. Finally, I crawl toward the New Year's finish line, bedraggled and beaten, while simultaneously creating a fantastic birthday for my daughter and a memorable Christmas for all.<br />
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And, sadly, most every year, I am blindsided by all of this.<br />
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Sigh. I know.<br />
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If it happens every year and I, theoretically, know it's coming, how can I be blindsided?<br />
Your guess is a good as mine.<br />
<br />
Every year it's...<br />
Why am I so stressed?<br />
Why can't I handle all of this as well as everybody else?<br />
Why am I having more anxiety attacks?<br />
Why is my stomach upset?<br />
Why am I stress eating?<br />
Why am I gaining weight?<br />
<br />
And, <i>every</i> year it's then...<br />
Oh, right, I always get stressed this time of year.<br />
Oh, right, I need to get back to self care.<br />
Oh, right, I need to let things go and enjoy myself.<br />
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What I really struggle with is letting this whole scenario be okay.<br />
<br />
Yes, this happens every year. Yes, I'm still blindsided. Yes, I'm stressed. And, yes, <i>ALL</i> OF THIS IS OKAY.<br />
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Getting stressed-out is okay. It does not mean I'm a failure. Forgetting that I get stressed out at the same time every year is also okay. Still not a failure.<br />
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This does not mean I'm an idiot. Even if it feels like it does, in fact, prove exactly that. It just means that I'm human.<br />
<br />
I am human.<br />
I make mistakes.<br />
I am not always on top of things.<br />
I get stressed out.<br />
I sometimes want to rest instead of doing the things.<br />
I mishandle my emotions.<br />
I forget to take care of myself.<br />
<br />
And that's okay.<br />
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I get judgy when I slack-off. But I still slack off. And then I wallow in my conflicted feelings. I am a hodgepodge of contradictions and conflicting emotions, as all of us humans are. I am a buckle-down and get it done girl. I am also a slack off and eat chips on the couch while watching Hallmark movies when there's work to do girl. I am hard core and low key. I'm an over achiever and a slacker. I'm filled with guilt and shame, but also confidence and glee. All at the exact same time.<br />
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And this is also okay.<br />
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NaNoWriMo was both tough and easy for me this year. Regardless, I managed to finish 50,000 words, and I like my book already, despite it's rough draft short-comings, and the fact that I still have to write a good 20-30,000 words to finish it. I had fun writing a lot of the time (though not all of it) and for once I don't feel completely dead of all writing energy at the end of Nano. I actually want to keep at it this December. And I hope I will. Though maybe I won't.<br />
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Either way, it's okay.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia67AJstfIUVNR8bxNp0Inx7etsRIWnzEV8X-phhLuVDbx2YtdukFZ9t3154bPJw2_dQW6y6IulwHm3eazSUhvUe3UlgeXtXukMg65zupqYnLDYZUK9YHCpNRPll2uqUxHMmhRaBfshzM/s1600/fqe3ph%2525lRkidKkFovbsiRw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia67AJstfIUVNR8bxNp0Inx7etsRIWnzEV8X-phhLuVDbx2YtdukFZ9t3154bPJw2_dQW6y6IulwHm3eazSUhvUe3UlgeXtXukMg65zupqYnLDYZUK9YHCpNRPll2uqUxHMmhRaBfshzM/s200/fqe3ph%2525lRkidKkFovbsiRw.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Woody Guthrie.</td></tr>
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I hosted Thanksgiving this year. And it was super stressful and also awesome. I loved having my family around. I hated having to cook anything when all I wanted to do was hang out with my favorite people. And I felt bad for letting my mom pick up my slack in the kitchen. The food all turned out good and I think everyone had a good time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DmTVulgA9EIwXNeYTcJPvwOUJlK2sB37rXCvnepxynpxlqumpQ7KkRZH1tEOF8BymHiNES5C9FiEIVnO0gg-meylTDr0_0x07F601faM8qfEry6LyDj6QbV8FlFz9B_Bn3wD7R1oT9w/s1600/Mz0vfTNNRA%252BY1mmJJN1hdw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DmTVulgA9EIwXNeYTcJPvwOUJlK2sB37rXCvnepxynpxlqumpQ7KkRZH1tEOF8BymHiNES5C9FiEIVnO0gg-meylTDr0_0x07F601faM8qfEry6LyDj6QbV8FlFz9B_Bn3wD7R1oT9w/s200/Mz0vfTNNRA%252BY1mmJJN1hdw.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not actual photo of boyfriend.</td></tr>
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But my tiny dog also bit my niece's boyfriend, so it wasn't all good. (He's okay, I promise.) The highlight, aside from just the fun of being around my family, were the drinks my husband mixed. The man makes a mean drink.<br />
<br />
It was good. It was bad. It was all okay.<br />
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The next day I could barely be bothered to get off the couch. I was so drained from all the planning, preparation, and socializing. I was a blob of goo.<br />
So, did I meditate and do yoga to take care of myself?<br />
No. No, I did not. I ate more junk and watched tv.<br />
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Also okay.<br />
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So, tonight, I acknowledge what I've been doing. I remember the lessons I've learned and re-learned ten times before. And I put the brakes on. I meditate. I stretch. I read a book and chill. And I remind myself of my deeper why.<br />
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Why do I participate in Nano?<i> To practice my craft. To hone my writing skills so that one day I might write a book that makes a person I don't even know feel understood, and a little less alone in the world.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Why do I host Thanksgiving?<i> To be around my family, who I love so dearly and genuinely adore spending time with.</i><br />
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Why do I do all the Christmas things I do?<i> To bring joy to my family and myself. To give my kids and myself warm memories of love and family and home.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
What's this all for?<i> Love.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
What's it all about? <i>Love.</i><br />
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This is my reminder. This is your reminder too, dear reader.<br />
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This is your reminder to think of your deeper why. To focus on THAT this season, and not the long list of things to do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6U1pl8y3bbQiH2ubrQGlBUQf-2K6ArGzfvrCMdGhIoUKc0ypCE2UgcC0zAF6pJa2w63OWDMpfRaK_wcAOHXV-8G5DOsMO4RB02h5Sh8kj010g1xd-5cyCXZwqvHva8Igp7OYfRYSxLrA/s1600/1MoUw%252BMVTYKmoZCy3D0Hrw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6U1pl8y3bbQiH2ubrQGlBUQf-2K6ArGzfvrCMdGhIoUKc0ypCE2UgcC0zAF6pJa2w63OWDMpfRaK_wcAOHXV-8G5DOsMO4RB02h5Sh8kj010g1xd-5cyCXZwqvHva8Igp7OYfRYSxLrA/s200/1MoUw%252BMVTYKmoZCy3D0Hrw.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balance.</td></tr>
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So, I'll take a day and stop "doing" and lay on the couch with my daughter and watch Hallmark movies while we stuff and address Christmas cards and snuggle all day. I also may take a day and clean the house top to bottom and do about 50 loads of laundry. Then I might shut everybody out of my studio so I can get some writing in. Or I might paint all afternoon. I will also travel into downtown Chicago and spend three hours at the American Girl store despite a strong desire to stay on the couch or locked in my room in the peace and quiet I crave. On another day I may take a nap. Because I'm tired and I love naps. But then I'll spend loads of time pouring over websites to find the most wonderful Christmas gifts for the people I love. Then I might volunteer at the school and run errands like a mad woman.<br />
<br />
There's a push-pull to life that I'm just beginning to appreciate. It's not so much balance as it is this push-pull. I always imagined "life balance" as this tight rope we were supposed to walk, staying balanced right in the middle.<br />
Tip right. Adjust. Tip left. Adjust.<br />
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But it isn't like that. Not really.<br />
It's more like puddle jumping. Both feet into one puddle, then both feet into another.<br />
It's messier like that, too.<br />
Splashing water.<br />
Splashing mud.<br />
Maybe the key is to find peace with that.<br />
With the puddles and the water and the mud. With the balance that isn't really balance at all.<br />
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There's a scene in the movie Parenthood where Steve Martin's character imagines the craziness of life and family as a roller coaster ride that he's white-knuckle-gripping and grimacing his way through. Until something finally shifts in his perspective and he suddenly starts smiling and laughing at all of it-- he starts enjoying the roller coaster ride. This is a pivotal moment in the life of a control-freak.<br />
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This is that time in life when we realize that we are in control of, well, pretty much nothing. An especially hard lesson for all of us who adopted "attempting to control everything in our world" as a coping mechanism for feeling out of control in our childhoods.<br />
<br />
Letting go of that white knuckle grip on imagined control is, like mediation and yoga, a practice. You don't just figure it out and are magically fixed. You must practice letting go again, and again, and again, and again. Ad infinitum.<br />
<br />
And so it is a lesson we learn and relearn all the days.<br />
But we get better and faster at it over time.<br />
So we got that going for us.<br />
Which is nice.<br />
<br />
Until next time, let it go.<br />
<br />
And jump in the puddles with both feet.<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2U58v3LALXVFPDTblF7USCLhuFNhiiUCOdD4OJSkhGh1_9ntHtdIEzVlw2UutuNPWcOBzEsSk5NBSTxbN6lpJvAL8k6MlR2xo5CuVrypnpu3zduQgtk1Eqlu3yImmckuQtvVmvmc4sY/s1600/khhBJ6xWT2exGWD7G9OcOw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2U58v3LALXVFPDTblF7USCLhuFNhiiUCOdD4OJSkhGh1_9ntHtdIEzVlw2UutuNPWcOBzEsSk5NBSTxbN6lpJvAL8k6MlR2xo5CuVrypnpu3zduQgtk1Eqlu3yImmckuQtvVmvmc4sY/s320/khhBJ6xWT2exGWD7G9OcOw.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In loving memory of one of our family who's<br />missing this holiday: Sydney.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-61009831676995345082019-10-30T07:28:00.002-07:002019-10-30T07:28:39.709-07:00Remembering Your Why<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrn0eG4C6-GZ62fFpCsTaIaYs8io8r_-GV4mEhWqCFq-wIywyjcY8LqCzsNadoLx726xIEtQxZLQQ4zmUOCdhcSbJtsiIzbQfafzrsNDqgBQKit4CjU9hu6xMgablql6EuLbyx6HWn5k/s1600/QfY8bnd9Tka%252Bw4PjKyL7jA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrn0eG4C6-GZ62fFpCsTaIaYs8io8r_-GV4mEhWqCFq-wIywyjcY8LqCzsNadoLx726xIEtQxZLQQ4zmUOCdhcSbJtsiIzbQfafzrsNDqgBQKit4CjU9hu6xMgablql6EuLbyx6HWn5k/s320/QfY8bnd9Tka%252Bw4PjKyL7jA.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not a To Do List. This is a Cosmic Book<br />of Hopes and Dreams and Deeper Whys.<br />(Sculpture by David Kracov)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've spent the last week or so in a heightened state of anxiety. It has not been fun. I tried blaming in on the move and all the extra stuff there is to do with the house and the life. I've spent more than four hours at the DMV in the last week and I still have to go back one more time. That's reason enough for anxiety, right?<br />
<br />
But then, last night, (after having a mini anxiety attack) I remembered what my last therapist said to me around this same time last year. <i>Amy, this is your stress time. Every year, the activities and responsibilities ramp up in October, hit a frenzied peak in mid December, and then slowly descend back to normal by New Years. And every year your anxiety follows the same path.</i><br />
<br />
This happens every year for me since I had kids.<br />
<br />
Every. Damn. Year.<br />
<br />
And every year I am surprised by it (Every. Damn. Year.) and try to shove it down and push on through and explain it away with special circumstances (like moving to a new state). Every year I pile on the responsibilities. And every year, subconsciously, I feel like I'm not up to snuff. (I don't actively think, <i>Wow, I'm really failing at this.</i> But if you dig down a layer, that's the underlying belief when I can't get EVERYTHING done perfectly ALL THE TIME. I've been through enough therapy to recognize that much!)<br />
<br />
What really irks me about this is that I've been a mother for almost eleven years and I still have not retained this life lesson.<br />
<br />
I'm normally such a good student, this must be due to the demise of many braincells since having kids.<br />
<br />
So, following said revelation yesterday, I took a step back and reassessed. I re-instituted some self-care and refocused my thinking and my priorities. I got back to meditating and using essential oils. I reminded myself how much movement helps. And, THE BIG ONE:<br />
<br />
I remembered my WHY.<br />
<br />
This is two fold for me. Part of the reason for the extra bump in anxiety this week is that we are now two days away from November 1. For me, that's two days away from the start of NaNoWriMo! (For those new to this blog, that's National Novel Writing Month. Where writers from all over the world commit to writing 50,000 words in 30 days-- essentially that's writing a novel--or a large chunk of one--in a month. This will be my 7th year participating in NaNoWriMo.)<br />
<br />
So my DEEPER WHY is connected to my family life: To build a fun and love-filled life for me and my family and friends-- and my writing life: To connect with others through words and stories, and make the world a less lonely place to be.<br />
<br />
When you're stressing about getting your house in order and your new license plates and winter gear for the kids and cleaning for guests and oh my God what novel am I going to write in November and I haven't done any research and my outlines not done and....OH MY GOD!-- It can be a good time to remember your why.<br />
<br />
Why are you here? Why do you do what you do? What do you want your legacy to be?<br />
<br />
Is it to be a stressed out ball of angst?<br />
<br />
Probably not.<br />
<br />
Is it to be perfect at everything you do?<br />
<br />
Not actually possible. Plus, subjective measuring stick. Perfectly dusted furniture means different things to me and my mom. Trust me.<br />
<br />
So what is it?<br />
<br />
Remembering our deeper why can help us refocus on what really matters and why we do what we do.<br />
<br />
So, if, like me, you sometimes get sucked in to the frenetic pace that can be life in our world today, and you find yourself stressed out trying to do it all-- if your body reminds you that you're heading down the wrong path (with headaches or indigestion or sleep troubles or aches and pains or whatever), then take a moment to step back and remember your deeper why.<br />
<br />
And then remember it again and again, with every sunrise. This is why you're here. This is why you do what you do.<br />
<br />
And, always, take care of you.<br />
<br />
Until next time, love on, dear ones!<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. If you'd like to read more about dealing with anxiety, check out these previous blog posts:<a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/04/anxiety-confessions.html" target="_blank">https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/04/anxiety-confessions.html</a><br />
<a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/04/fear.html" target="_blank">https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/04/fear.html</a><br />
<a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/06/self-care-why-is-it-always-first-thing.html" target="_blank">https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/06/self-care-why-is-it-always-first-thing.html</a><br />
<a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/09/she-let-go.html" target="_blank">https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/09/she-let-go.html</a><br />
<a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/12/holiday-stress-and-anxiety.html" target="_blank">https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/2018/12/holiday-stress-and-anxiety.html</a><br />
<a href="https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/search/label/Anxiety" target="_blank">https://mamamanagement.blogspot.com/search/label/Anxiety</a><br />
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P.P.S. If you're interested in using guided mediations, there are lots of free apps out there to help you. I use Insight Timer, which I highly recommend, but there are many others. Here's my current favorite guided mediation to help me slow down and recenter: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFwT_r4b57c" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFwT_r4b57c</a><br />
<br />
P.P.P.S. And don't forget to cheer me on for NaNoWriMo 2019! It starts Friday and I can you all the support I can get! Thanks, friends!<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-51000966401350724812019-09-13T09:36:00.000-07:002019-09-13T09:36:53.233-07:00Embracing Uncertainty and Change<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have not shown up here on MamaManagement in many months. There are lots of reasons I could list as to why. But, I think the core of it is that I haven't had much to say.<br />
<br />
We've had a lot of "stuff" going on...all of which revolves around us moving from Pennsylvania to Illinois in August. Plus, for a while there, back in Spring and early summer, I was working hard on book revisions (decidedly NOT the case now. Sigh.). But mainly, I've just been really self-absorbed lately.<br />
<br />
Both in good ways and in bad.<br />
<br />
Truth be told, I've been a bit of a hermit these last few months. Much of my reclusiveness was born out of prepping for the move and then moving. Moving a family from one state to another is a full time job. And it's stressful. It throws your family's entire life off its rhythm. And, in my case, it also throws your mind, body, and spirit off-rhythm.<br />
<br />
My mind has had so much on it that it no longer works properly. Information flows in and out like water through a sieve. I misplace my phone at least ten times a day. A week or two ago, I lost my wedding ring and searched frantically before finally remembering that I'd purposely put it in a bathroom cupboard for safe keeping. I still can't find the brand new box of heartworm medicine I bought for the dog just before we moved. I'm relatively certain it'll turn up eventually. At least I know for certain I bought it, because I found the receipt....just not the actual medicine.<br />
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My body, which has been coasting on a slow, meandering downhill slope for over a year, careened around a sharp turn and launched itself down a Matterhorn-esque slalom, jiggling it's way toward some seemingly bottomless chasm. It ain't pretty, by current cultural standards. But I'm working toward loving it anyway.<br />
<br />
My spirit is hanging in there, weathering the stormy days and relishing the sunny ones. It has moments of clarity and bliss. It has days hung heavy with grey, armored clouds and bits of residual anxiety. It feels as though it's finding its way, but it's taking its own sweet time trudging through the muck.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhySr63kCrYKy-EjvzWMvhf9tuLIAOe_xFUu2YHg6UPmB6Kh9liq7IUzhmgo6R68BcSlp2drUzomTr-vtuR9jao5sl11QG4PRU1kRpKMreKzpM1zjejZu4l1cZCavmeBUYV_jOQAdfZSY/s1600/IMG_2636.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhySr63kCrYKy-EjvzWMvhf9tuLIAOe_xFUu2YHg6UPmB6Kh9liq7IUzhmgo6R68BcSlp2drUzomTr-vtuR9jao5sl11QG4PRU1kRpKMreKzpM1zjejZu4l1cZCavmeBUYV_jOQAdfZSY/s320/IMG_2636.PNG" width="179" /></a>And me? Well, I'm trying hard to love it all. Loving what is, not the storied version of life I conjured up somewhere along the way (fed by marketing and media). Trusting that the universe has my back and will lead me out of the muck and back into the light. Living in the now, not the "when <i>x</i> happens, <i>then </i>I'll..." Embracing uncertainty and change. Seeing life for the adventure it is and jumping at opportunities whenever they arise. Stopping putting things off or spending lots of time weighing the options and wondering if it's the "right" decision.<br />
<br />
Jumping into the deep end and trusting I'll remember how to swim.<br />
<br />
It's slow-going. But I'm trying.<br />
<br />
I read this quote on Instagram the other day and thought it fit perfectly with where my (scattered and tattered) brain is at right now:<br />
<i><br /></i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>each morning,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>ask your heart</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>how it would like</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>to be loved</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>and each day,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>do that.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>--della hicks wilson</i></div>
<br />
I love that.<br />
<br />
Also, I just finished a Fredrik Backman book (My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry). I love his stories (I've read 4 so far) because they (almost) always have quirky characters that share a unique way of looking at life and death. And his books always make me feel warm and gooey inside and soften my perspective on life, at least for a while.<br />
<br />
So, my new motto is: Embrace uncertainty and change.<br />
<br />
At least for now.<br />
<br />
Until next time...Hope you all are well. Sending love and light and warm, gooey feelings your way.<br />
<br />
xx<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-1237305606041871472019-03-28T08:03:00.001-07:002019-03-28T08:03:47.279-07:00Belly Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This post is as much for me as it is for you. I am just beginning my journey into the land of Body Positivity and<b> #BellyLove</b> is my next big step.<br />
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As many of you saw in my last post about diet culture, I've recently been inspired by a <b>#BodyPositivity</b> movement that came to my attention through Instagram. This movement is all about loving our bodies just as they are, in whatever shape they are in. It's about ditching the pervasive diet culture and body shaming, and seeing the beauty in every body...especially our own.<br />
<br />
This Body Positivity movement is connected to another movement called #<b>HealthatEverySize</b>. Which focuses on being healthy and doing the best for your body regardless of what size you are. Not worrying about what the scale says or whether of not you have washboard abs and a thigh gap, and instead focusing on eating foods that make your body feel good and doing movement that promotes good mental and physical health AND feels good...without caring at all about losing weight. There's also a movement for #<b>IntuitiveEating*</b>, which is about getting back in touch with our bodies, really listening to them and feeding them what they want rather than restricting or feeding them what our stress wants or what diet culture tells us to eat.<br />
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For me, this has meant riding a stationary bike for 30-40 minutes most everyday, because I know the movement is good for both my mind and body, and because I LIKE IT. I can read or watch author YouTube videos while I do it! I can close my eyes and daydream--which I don't do enough of lately. It also means stretching every night in whatever way feels good to my body. It's no longer a yoga class, per se, but it includes a lot of yoga poses. (I'm dying to add a rower to the mix...here's hoping I get one for mother's day! ...hint. hint.)<br />
<br />
For me, this has also meant trying to learn to listen to what my body wants. When I really listen, I find that I'm not always hungry at the designated mealtimes, yet I've almost always eaten at them. Now I'm trying to eat only when I feel hungry, regardless of the time. It also means checking in with my body to see what it really wants to eat. More often than not, of late, that includes carbs like bread or pasta, and fruit; though it also may mean soup. I give it what it wants.<br />
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And now, for me, this means focusing on a new relationship with my current body. This, my friends, is THE HARD PART. This means no more cringing when I look in the mirror. This means a new kind of self talk. This means thoughts filled with love and gratitude and admiration. This means wearing clothes that I think are beautiful regardless of how body-con they are or how much they show the more voluptuous parts of me (yes, I mean the FAT).<br />
<br />
And, I've decided, this means BELLY LOVE.<br />
<br />
My current belly is the crux of my movement into Body Positivity. I've never had a small waist, but for most of my life I had a relatively flat stomach. Not. Any. More. I now have some thick rolls chillaxing on my midsection. They are soft and squishy and totally pinchable. And they are big enough now that I can no longer even suck them in, really. I can't stand a certain way in pictures to hide them unless I'm completely blocked by another person. I can't camouflage them under a sweater.<br />
<br />
THEY. ARE. THERE. Like it or not.<br />
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So that's the decision before me: To like them. Or not.<br />
<br />
Could I eat less and exercise more and whittle them down a bit? Probably. But here's the question I keep asking myself: Why? Is that what I really want to do with my one wild and precious life? Workout? Diet? Worry about how I look? Will I wish, on my death bed, that I had been skinnier? That I'd had a flatter stomach?<br />
<br />
I kinda doubt it.<br />
<br />
So, I choose to like them, those belly rolls.<br />
<br />
And this is my new practice, starting today: Every day I will say nice things to myself about my appearance. Every day I will focus some of that love specifically onto my belly. I will tell it how much I love it and I will thank it. I will rub it lovingly with yummy lotion after I shower and I will dress it in lovely clothes. I will try my best not to hide it or deny it. And I will feed it what it wants.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-W6d2mFsvY-UNsvTpLP29ypTaVGjV6lcHpz1nh46uXBCR1OVClUnNajWPMkMmbQU80Vz1qUwzrXD32q88aLY-_BkjckYqKL7qktL7odANK_pya5arYXYF7V2EJroWmu9dbqfEXjolBU/s1600/IMG_1505.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-W6d2mFsvY-UNsvTpLP29ypTaVGjV6lcHpz1nh46uXBCR1OVClUnNajWPMkMmbQU80Vz1qUwzrXD32q88aLY-_BkjckYqKL7qktL7odANK_pya5arYXYF7V2EJroWmu9dbqfEXjolBU/s200/IMG_1505.PNG" width="111" /></a></div>
I will give it BELLY LOVE.<br />
<br />
It's an experiment in challenging diet culture and body shaming and self flagellation. It's in experiment in self-love and body positivity.<br />
<br />
I'll let you know how it goes. Feel free to join me in this experiment and report back.<br />
<br />
Until next time, love your self...love your belly.<br />
<br />
xo<br />
<br />
<br />
* Check out these hashtags on Instagram for more information and inspiration on your own journey to loving the body you live in!<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-28539841480650732912019-02-27T09:18:00.003-08:002019-02-27T09:32:04.221-08:00Body Image and Diet Culture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5dkTk8FAUO3g-bSnMr7sdaVkQKOWpGKJCEvyZhuD4tcz0RD7iQr739v7JZ3r2mrE1rOasB6oQozT6QDi6Hla2zTQPeKMmGi8IR2DhiggnuhmMz1R_uXWkQiMlQU01awLPI259nYNSPQ/s1600/IMG_1295.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5dkTk8FAUO3g-bSnMr7sdaVkQKOWpGKJCEvyZhuD4tcz0RD7iQr739v7JZ3r2mrE1rOasB6oQozT6QDi6Hla2zTQPeKMmGi8IR2DhiggnuhmMz1R_uXWkQiMlQU01awLPI259nYNSPQ/s320/IMG_1295.PNG" width="179" /></a></div>
I have subscribed to the pervasive diet culture that exists in the United States for my entire adolescent and adult life.<br />
<br />
As a one hundred and fifteen pound teenager, I believed myself fat. My body, though I see now in the rearview mirror of age, was beautiful even by society's standards, became a loathsome enemy very early on. I compared myself to magazines and movies and friends. Everyone was always thinner and more beautiful. Everyone had clearer skin and a skinnier waist and thinner thighs. I was an attractive enough girl...and then woman. I wasn't "ugly" per se, but I was less than.<br />
<br />
Within each decade of my life, there seemed to be some magical (and unattainable) number on the scale that held the holy grail of "enough". If I could just get to that number...120, 125, 130, 135...then everything would be great. I'd be thin enough, pretty enough, fashionable enough...<br />
<br />
I'd be enough.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJeuuYYvTbt3eQD33XtuEZHr3aa1eY6zIdQd8CrheKHVpiDm7Kth9m5L6gJgfotj8BsAbnU7IJOiOwFZ8JLKMZZS_I4-iff4FTVJXYN4KTuADQd58Aps5E23zLhKUxIAxk2GhTxmKD-Y/s1600/IMG_1296.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwJeuuYYvTbt3eQD33XtuEZHr3aa1eY6zIdQd8CrheKHVpiDm7Kth9m5L6gJgfotj8BsAbnU7IJOiOwFZ8JLKMZZS_I4-iff4FTVJXYN4KTuADQd58Aps5E23zLhKUxIAxk2GhTxmKD-Y/s320/IMG_1296.PNG" width="179" /></a>As I got older, especially once I had kids, that "acceptable" number got higher and my relationship with it more conflicted. I no longer just bowed down to the idea that I needed to be thin. I still wanted it. I still beat myself up about not getting it. But, I no longer had absolute acceptance of the idea that skinny = happy/better/being enough. Now the feminist side of me started to challenge this idea.<br />
<br />
Skinnier isn't inherently better/more beautiful. There was a time when a more Rubenesque physique was thought more beautiful. My belief that thinner is better comes from the pervasive diet culture that I've grown up in...lived my whole life in. And there's plenty of evidence to suggest that a patriarchal society benefits from my shitty body image-- they want to make me smaller, weaker. They want me riddled with doubt and fear. It reinforces their power. If I'm distracted by my appearance, if I'm busy trying to get thinner, it makes it far more difficult to challenge their authority. Plus, they get to make LOTS of money off of me.<br />
<br />
So why do I, an intelligent, educated, self-aware woman who's about to turn forty-fucking-five (and, frankly knows damn better), still find herself burdened by the number on the scale (which doesn't match the "should be" in her head) and the rolls on her middle?<br />
<br />
I wrote last week about my February Funk. Well, said "funk" has invaded my psyche and become pervasive negative self-talk. And some days, it's pretty bad, y'all. I catch my thoughts berating my self and I can't even contradict what they're saying. Because I believe it's all true. (Which is kind of mortifying to write.) So I degrade myself and do hopeful online shopping for creams and makeup and clothes that promise to help. And I try intermittent fasting, followed by reactionary 9pm chip and cereal eating.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK97iTS0I63Btoc0M47DRWxC8AesDg6XPJqJ2rtrOluOXD-tWxSAyy257NbxbqkTWxfg7vCN1RyiYKF5xM77Y0bq63NFc5XguktONxq_XZ9Lw5f9HQvrt4C7m4e3vKifUAprdwoYkhvbk/s1600/IMG_1298.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK97iTS0I63Btoc0M47DRWxC8AesDg6XPJqJ2rtrOluOXD-tWxSAyy257NbxbqkTWxfg7vCN1RyiYKF5xM77Y0bq63NFc5XguktONxq_XZ9Lw5f9HQvrt4C7m4e3vKifUAprdwoYkhvbk/s320/IMG_1298.PNG" width="179" /></a><br />
And it becomes a vicious cycle in which I get more and more down on myself and my head becomes a really ugly place to be.<br />
<br />
I would never say to another person any of the awful things I currently am saying to myself. I wouldn't even think them. That's what's so weird about this. I really only turn it on myself. I don't look at other people and think about how they should really lose some weight, or do their hair or wear makeup...not ever. But the things I say to myself...whoa!<br />
<br />
I feel ugly and fat. And when I look in the mirror, I cringe. And this makes me-- So. Very. Sad.<br />
<br />
One way to stop this is to increase my exercise routine (currently 30 minutes on a bike and yoga stretches daily) and restrict my already (mostly) healthy eating. Could I stand to eat less? Probably. Could I move more? Sure. -- I'd even do it happily if I could just get this Plantar Fasciitis to go the hell away.<br />
<br />
Which brings me to the broader issue of body hatred. Because I'm REALLY mad at my body these days. And not just because it's carrying extra weight and won't let go.<br />
<br />
But because I've had Plantar Fasciitis for more than 9 months now,<br />
...and because I wake up sore and in moderate pain every morning,<br />
...and because my hormones and period are jacked up,<br />
...and because I'm some kind of tired most of the time,<br />
...and because I have anxiety that requires medication and even then still flares up from time to time,<br />
...and because...<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWad6GGYFo86K5Fq1SYz-7n4g8imDwkHiPMivG7AFTydbxUjwtl2wxYyWvXC_hXJSpwrAiZKeaklnO3Ol_JxyBlSoeE0RQEoFw_njtAJH7n9rdr1ui7nu9bHwersFDZ86vPAJUbZaA-0/s1600/IMG_1297.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWad6GGYFo86K5Fq1SYz-7n4g8imDwkHiPMivG7AFTydbxUjwtl2wxYyWvXC_hXJSpwrAiZKeaklnO3Ol_JxyBlSoeE0RQEoFw_njtAJH7n9rdr1ui7nu9bHwersFDZ86vPAJUbZaA-0/s320/IMG_1297.PNG" width="179" /></a><br />
I feel betrayed by my body.<br />
<br />
I feel old before my time on top of feeling fat and ugly and I blame my body for it all, when what has my body ever done for me but LIVED.<br />
<br />
My body has been relatively healthy my whole life. My body allowed me to conceive, carry, birth, and nurse two amazing children. My body has taken me on adventures and given me pleasure and really been nothing but wonderful to me from the very beginning.<br />
<br />
Not that you'd ever know if from the way I've emotional abused it so often over the years. If my body was a friend, I would tell it to get out of its relationship with me!<br />
<br />
So, what prompted this post about body image and diet culture?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6k3W8ZV-bfWzHf3tWgVIw4Z456aHc3ftnWesw8w8oqEUEPe5flpX74QwaSP8OY4sWffgU7gtN0OymA-0fM6qqq3Q9oocD_Qr0ZHSi3rAC6cjyAo6lieGd32Gy-C5Pe_SW-9jOkRmVmSU/s1600/IMG_1294.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6k3W8ZV-bfWzHf3tWgVIw4Z456aHc3ftnWesw8w8oqEUEPe5flpX74QwaSP8OY4sWffgU7gtN0OymA-0fM6qqq3Q9oocD_Qr0ZHSi3rAC6cjyAo6lieGd32Gy-C5Pe_SW-9jOkRmVmSU/s320/IMG_1294.PNG" width="179" /></a></div>
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It's a funny thing. A few weeks ago, an Instagram friend turned me on to this wonderful Instagrammer @bodyposipanda. Then, last week the negative self talk got so bad that I scheduled an appointment with my therapist (who I haven't seen in months) for her first available slot (not til next week). Then last night I spent an hour reading @bodyposipanda's past IG posts, trying to absorb her philosophy/message. I even went so far as to order her book on Audible so I could attempt to rewire my brain. Then, the tipping point this morning, when someone I don't even know posted a question seeking dieting and weightloss advice in a Facebook group I'm a member of and I thought...<br />
<br />
I am not alone.<br />
<br />
So many others are body shaming themselves every day. So many others are looking for the miracle diet/weight loss/wrinkle cure plan that will help them "be enough." Because we have all been steeped in this diet culture our whole lives-- so much so that we don't even see it for what it is.<br />
<br />
So, today, I'm going to try and start over.<br />
<br />
I'm going to try to start saying nice things to my body.<br />
I'm going to try and start rewiring my brain.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmr5sxEovAtIQSf-Z3B6udLBmK0OM231O6KTEYN3OAx7Bk3GTvLYccxpco1xGgx60yFI_3cbKB8HsbCsf3ALYc8qT4CYseOqqG8m2wesmrp0BDbjF0mAnWnrTPWY_E04l3-G_iGEexQ1Y/s1600/IMG_1293.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmr5sxEovAtIQSf-Z3B6udLBmK0OM231O6KTEYN3OAx7Bk3GTvLYccxpco1xGgx60yFI_3cbKB8HsbCsf3ALYc8qT4CYseOqqG8m2wesmrp0BDbjF0mAnWnrTPWY_E04l3-G_iGEexQ1Y/s320/IMG_1293.PNG" width="179" /></a>I'm going to try and listen to my body and what it tells me about what it needs and wants.<br />
I'm going to try to eat the healthiest things possibly for my body--the things that make it feel good and energetic, and move it as much as I can in ways that feel good.<br />
And then<br />
I'm going to let the chips fall where they may.<br />
<br />
And I'm going to try and shift the blame and shame, the hatred and anger, off my body and to where it truly belongs: onto the diet culture.<br />
<br />
This isn't about letting myself go or eating junk food or laying on the couch all day or being unhealthy. This is about reclaiming my body and my self. This is about taking my power back. This is about being happy and loving life and spending my time and energy on the things that really matter.<br />
<br />
Which is decidedly NOT belly rolls or wrinkles.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5IshkzisOZfrSRAvI_tKtcTjZzxMfBspVPghS9M5xSNseXfqdI8mTvCwFbfUMHXlRPzPdbGiAYM72dIM9qPCapcIdSENzxYVT2Dumrjp3cYCHQ0xqIVQ4QIfZwZNq-T6KE-JEkrhmnPA/s1600/IMG_1292.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5IshkzisOZfrSRAvI_tKtcTjZzxMfBspVPghS9M5xSNseXfqdI8mTvCwFbfUMHXlRPzPdbGiAYM72dIM9qPCapcIdSENzxYVT2Dumrjp3cYCHQ0xqIVQ4QIfZwZNq-T6KE-JEkrhmnPA/s320/IMG_1292.PNG" width="179" /></a></div>
Wish me luck.<br />
Join me.<br />
<br />
Until next time, love yourself...not thinner or younger or prettier, but just as you are.<br />
<br />
xo<br />
<br />
P.S. And check out @bodyposipanda (Megan Jayne Crabbe) for some inspiration here:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.instagram.com/bodyposipanda/" target="_blank">https://www.instagram.com/bodyposipanda/</a> or <a href="http://www.bodyposipanda.com/" target="_blank">http://www.bodyposipanda.com</a> or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJU46H9UjvIXLEtAknI9c8g" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJU46H9UjvIXLEtAknI9c8g</a><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-75761128534403469262019-02-19T07:58:00.001-08:002019-02-19T12:09:08.845-08:00Inside The Funk of February<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I have a low day (or days) that appears, seemingly, for no reason whatsoever (as in: nothing has happened, nothing is "wrong"), I have a really hard time accepting it as normal.<br />
<br />
It is, you know. Normal. To have a blue mood every once in a while. To be "in a funk." I'm not talking about depression. I'm talking about a day or two, maybe a week, when you just feel...blah. Life has lost its shimmer and shine. Maybe <i>you</i> have lost your shimmer and shine, too...temporarily.<br />
<br />
That's me today...okay, this week, really. And I feel equal parts mad about it and guilty for it.<br />
<br />
I don't want to feel blue. It's dumb. There's no reason for it. Nothing is wrong beyond the fact that it's February in Pennsylvania. But "the funk" doesn't care what I want. The funk will be, if it chooses to be. The funk will have its way...and that makes me mad.<br />
<br />
I also feel an undercurrent of guilt. What right do I have to be blue? I am a happy person living a good life. People who are going through hard things have the right to be blue.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpFoE9GJ6IaPL5EUDoil61jhztIwsCga8pxnu_852LIYHN9fHlDw2eeDtHbl4qrtwhX_jBnS9gExWLZ7_x7ioKsP-emCdKFI7QwGgGZ6iAImFsWDZaKIYMTjuZbZCwCfnnnR_dt8NJYc/s1600/IMG_1073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpFoE9GJ6IaPL5EUDoil61jhztIwsCga8pxnu_852LIYHN9fHlDw2eeDtHbl4qrtwhX_jBnS9gExWLZ7_x7ioKsP-emCdKFI7QwGgGZ6iAImFsWDZaKIYMTjuZbZCwCfnnnR_dt8NJYc/s200/IMG_1073.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I'm supposed to feel like</td></tr>
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I do not.<br />
<br />
To a part of me, this rationale sounds as stupid as it is. You hear it, don't you? The insanity of that statement? But I'll be honest. Even when I write it here. Even when I want to make the point to you, and to myself, that it's okay; that it's normal to be blue sometimes. Even when I know exactly what my therapist would say about these guilty thoughts. (<i>*whispers)</i> I still think they're kinda true. If I'm honest, truly honest, underneath it all I don't believe that I have the right to be in a funk.<br />
<br />
I mean, what the hell is wrong with me?<br />
<br />
Truth is? Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. It is perfectly normal to have blue moods and bad days and peaks and valleys in motivation and performance. This week I feel like an uninspired slug. I bet you have, too, at some point in the last few months...since it's part of the human experience. We are not energizer bunnies who keep going and going. We are humans. We need valleys between our peaks, ebbs between our flows, rest between our races.<br />
<br />
Recovery time.<br />
<br />
And so it is that if we don't naturally impose such breaks on ourselves, then our lives or our bodies will impose them upon us on our behalf. Enter: low energy, low mood-- THE FUNK. I'm pretty sure this corresponds to some dip or rise in hormones, or the lunar cycle, or the seasons, or circus rhythms, or something. I'm also pretty sure I ought to be accepting it and going with it.<br />
<br />
Cocooning and letting it be. Riding the ebb and waiting peacefully for the return of the flow.<br />
<br />
Instead, I grit my teeth and get annoyed, and yell at a few people in frustration, and then get all down on myself and how unproductive and uninspired I feel and how I'm doing nothing with all that I've been given, and I get all introspective about the meaning of life and the time I'm wasting, and...<br />
<br />
You get the picture.<br />
<br />
So, the other night, I dropped my daughter off at Girl Scouts and then headed over to Panera. I made them brew a fresh pot of decaf for me which I loaded up with cinnamon, and I revved up my laptop and started writing this.<br />
<br />
Because what writers do, even when they don't feel like it, is write.<br />
<br />
On the writing front, when I'm not feeling sullen and moody, I've been working on a short story class and Aaron Sorkin's Masterclass over the past two weeks. I'm also reading a shit ton. I'm assuming it's to escape my current mental undertow. I just figured out that I'm currently reading ten books. Because that's totally normal. (insert eye roll here) Here's the book lowdown:<br />
<br />
<i>RANDOM OFF-TOPIC BOOK TALK THAT CANNOT BE HELPED. SORRY.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe-83oCb8q0bAL-evOwxrdjzJRf8KupICdnAa0Kk9qyC_-HXrJAFKkvhZGYvydxb8jwpVdj7hIFbIZU04vRBEMVf_EB1C_6A9f9o1A8FLIt02lKdsfZpjFWIReERuhJUlr1LKQKrJ468/s1600/IMG_1254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe-83oCb8q0bAL-evOwxrdjzJRf8KupICdnAa0Kk9qyC_-HXrJAFKkvhZGYvydxb8jwpVdj7hIFbIZU04vRBEMVf_EB1C_6A9f9o1A8FLIt02lKdsfZpjFWIReERuhJUlr1LKQKrJ468/s200/IMG_1254.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love. Book and Dog.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Current audiobooks: Michelle Obama's Becoming (almost done and love it), The Enchanted Glass (the kids and I are listening to it in the car and we're on the last disc; cute and fun), and The Confident Code for Girls (my daughter and I are listening to it in bed at night a few times a week).<br />
<br />
Current hardcopy fiction: Sourdough or, Lois and Her Adventures in the Underground Market (just started; also, almost done; love it), Beneath a Scarlet Sky (just started), Heads of the Colored People (short stories), Poppy Mayberry (reading with my daughter), The Rules of Magic (shelved for the moment while I move through a stack of library books), and My Sister the Serial Killer (just finished).<br />
<br />
Current hardcopy nonfiction: Save the Cat Writes a Novel (writing research), and The Opposite of Spoiled (a bookclub read...I'm not gonna lie, I'm skimming; money's not my fave topic).<br />
<br />
No wonder I can't get anything done. All I do is read.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
Escapism.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5jCsn4W3gm5yuBNJY0Vni5rrp5R4_8v3FL4wzYB7_965p_oyvrDKa_zsSBL7MQ104OE7TwXzq0c25CGYCybmwg_Rob9Ni8M2O99RrgsVmyqq27Ad5t62kk-p-Hn7XrHpniwsn0iNDRo/s1600/IMG_1242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5jCsn4W3gm5yuBNJY0Vni5rrp5R4_8v3FL4wzYB7_965p_oyvrDKa_zsSBL7MQ104OE7TwXzq0c25CGYCybmwg_Rob9Ni8M2O99RrgsVmyqq27Ad5t62kk-p-Hn7XrHpniwsn0iNDRo/s200/IMG_1242.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look! It's Aaron Sorkin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As a part of the short story class I'm taking, I'm working on writing two short stories, both of which need first drafts finished for this week. And I'm reading through all of the course materials and doing all of the smaller assignments. And I'm listening to Aaron Sorkin talk about screenwriting-- not because I want to write screenplays, but because he writes amazing dialogue (if you don't believe me, watch The West Wing). Plus I am attempting to put together a simple website, but I'm not really sure how to juggle time spent working on that versus time spent on classes and time spent on my novel. So, it languishes.<br />
<br />
All of which means I have not been working on my novel revisions.<br />
<br />
I am the poster child for Procrastiproductiveness!<br />
<br />
Being procrastiproductive means you are super productive and get lots of stuff done, but never the stuff you really, really need to be doing. That is me. Even now, I'm getting a blog post written, which is great. But I'm actually here at Panera at 6:53pm to write a short story.<br />
<br />
And, let's be honest, that novel's not going to revise itself.<br />
<br />
Sigh. Again.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNS8fnyaeomzZbF72WEBun2LXG_NkCoZVLBHNmm9StMBhEehkXrc8UmYH1s6WiAD0V1L_MIf17rZ3SlwXptFcIXd_wGEcz2VXhk2qkxoffX_vIYeMPsR1mukkS6DkocoRESWoJJrDG2w/s1600/IMG_1081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNS8fnyaeomzZbF72WEBun2LXG_NkCoZVLBHNmm9StMBhEehkXrc8UmYH1s6WiAD0V1L_MIf17rZ3SlwXptFcIXd_wGEcz2VXhk2qkxoffX_vIYeMPsR1mukkS6DkocoRESWoJJrDG2w/s200/IMG_1081.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me. Funk City. Population: 1.<br />
Also, love these headphones.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And we circle back around to the moody blues. (No, not the band.) Funk City? (Eek.)<br />
<br />
So here's what we're gonna do right now. We're gonna extend some grace to ourselves...which is to say,<i> I'm</i> going to extend some grace to <i>my</i>self. Just as I would to a dear friend. I would not berate my friend for her lack of...whatever. I would tell her she's amazing. I would tell her to stick with it, but take it easy on herself. I would tell her she is worthy no matter what she does or doesn't do. I would tell her that she is loved, just as she is.<br />
<br />
I am amazing. I am worthy. I am loved. Just like my dear friends. Just like you.<br />
<br />
Let's try to ride the waves of life with a little more comfort and ease. Relax into the valleys with as much grace as we climb those peaks. It's okay to feel a little blue. It's normal to have off days. Give yourself a break, even when the funk cannot be explained beyond: It's February.<br />
<br />
Breathe in. Breathe out.<br />
<br />
Until next time, remember: You are amazing. You are worthy. You are loved.<br />
<br />
Namaste.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-36938928100338546782019-02-07T09:59:00.002-08:002019-02-07T09:59:39.476-08:00Take a Class<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52jniv8TMWLPL5Y57BV338jiMeFeiiuYQc3tlrW_jt8UOAjV4qv8shafC3tOowt0W9I4pS-zAtqT1_qNa_O1ku-QnbqIr_F9tEuZ0LjKoaQqzQN5CmnVHCSc8fVYGCaIW7xpafZK7YJI/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52jniv8TMWLPL5Y57BV338jiMeFeiiuYQc3tlrW_jt8UOAjV4qv8shafC3tOowt0W9I4pS-zAtqT1_qNa_O1ku-QnbqIr_F9tEuZ0LjKoaQqzQN5CmnVHCSc8fVYGCaIW7xpafZK7YJI/s640/IMG_0017.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From an art class I took last summer. This ended up being the background for all the mini-paintings I did this fall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Today I'm here to urge you to <span style="font-size: x-large;">take a class</span>.<br />
<br />
I know you're super busy. I know there are already too many things crammed into your day. I know you've got work and home and kids and spouse and workouts and family and friends and general life stuff all vying for your attention and time. And the last thing you want to do is add something else into the mix.<br />
<br />
But I don't care.<br />
<br />
I still think you should take a class.<br />
<br />
I don't really care what kind of class you take. It can be one that gets you further in your career. It can be one that introduces you to a new hobby. It can be one that you've always wanted to take. It can help you learn a new sport. (Tennis, anyone?) It can be online. It can be through your community rec center. It can be at a local college.<br />
<br />
What and where it is doesn't really matter all that much, as long as it's something you're interested in. What matters is that you do something new, you learn something new, you try something new, and you get, at least a little bit, uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
Why do I think you need to get uncomfortable?<br />
<br />
Because that's where all the good things happen.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqFhQ88GVj4Aomur5myavjtQQU81Jokvi-8WyLxPmGNDOqIeBim6F7vg6ZGmokEOljjK8Mtf21EqJ59wy1P8xXvaiU_sNIuPQ4o1_yGCeU_Mg9GOYGho1DcWbzTTZ6ahvnRx8TVnozLE/s1600/IMG_1091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqFhQ88GVj4Aomur5myavjtQQU81Jokvi-8WyLxPmGNDOqIeBim6F7vg6ZGmokEOljjK8Mtf21EqJ59wy1P8xXvaiU_sNIuPQ4o1_yGCeU_Mg9GOYGho1DcWbzTTZ6ahvnRx8TVnozLE/s200/IMG_1091.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margaret Atwood's Masterclass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I began challenging myself to take classes a few years ago. I call it Continuing Ed (aka My Life Masterclass). This year I'm taking actual Masterclasses through Masterclass.com. I started in the fall and will continue throughout the year. At the moment I'm taking only writing-related classes, but when I've exhausted those, I plan to take other classes that interest me...on cooking and wine appreciation and photography and...whatever else strikes my fancy. I'm also currently taking a month-long short story writing class through Pennwriters, a Pennsylvania writers organization I joined last year. And, I've been attending writers' conferences and workshops whenever I can (at least two in the past year).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsuJq6OJoG-UmYIctI5WHl-s6fkG9IFMcnN3NksXnAaRjeI2l5ZeC9_Ku2VbXcB4W0Q6uePsPK0RwTQbpKfoR8YMjMY4T-65EDRPY811KYGirNeizbzH9JQoOf2bef1LM1KVoPWhaNnU/s1600/IMG_0409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsuJq6OJoG-UmYIctI5WHl-s6fkG9IFMcnN3NksXnAaRjeI2l5ZeC9_Ku2VbXcB4W0Q6uePsPK0RwTQbpKfoR8YMjMY4T-65EDRPY811KYGirNeizbzH9JQoOf2bef1LM1KVoPWhaNnU/s200/IMG_0409.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My daughter taking a<br />sewing class</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've also been taking various art classes, both online and in person. And, I've been watching art-making videos on Youtube-- Youtube is a great resource for free learning!! Sometime this year I hope to take a sewing class at JoAnn's so I can finally learn how to use the sewing machine my mother got me two years ago...so I can repair all the holes that magically appear in all of our clothes all of the time. (What's with that???)<br />
<br />
But I'm not here to tell you about <i>my</i> classes. I'm here to encourage you to find your own.<br />
<br />
Taking a class does wonders for your life satisfaction and self esteem. Even if you're busy and you have to wedge it in between twenty other things. Taking a class will challenge your brain. It may make you feel stupid and slow at the beginning, but that feeling won't last. Eventually you'll get better/grasp the material/get absorbed in the topic or the process and you'll start to feel alive. And then, when it's done, you'll feel a sense of accomplishment.<br />
<br />
You'll learn something new. You'll broaden your horizons. You will grow. And that is, after all, at least part of why we're here. To learn and grow. We are not here to stagnate. We are not here to be lulled by the sameness of every day. We are not here to live the unchallenged life.<br />
<br />
So challenge yourself.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurOjvgxMM3whboyaZb-Ku1VySu7PX3ER8XYZ2OZYmBXveTMtaSpG7EhSGXFh5SAmj7olAWy4cmBmuT-jluphEDASncAkk9VwQZQNMGTdFLOv__qMsELyY_FPbmkgPGmmmIeiS1moZaug/s1600/IMG_0705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurOjvgxMM3whboyaZb-Ku1VySu7PX3ER8XYZ2OZYmBXveTMtaSpG7EhSGXFh5SAmj7olAWy4cmBmuT-jluphEDASncAkk9VwQZQNMGTdFLOv__qMsELyY_FPbmkgPGmmmIeiS1moZaug/s200/IMG_0705.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book Club feet, from our annual<br />holiday sock exchange</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And while we're at it, I also think you should<span style="font-size: x-large;"> join a club</span>. (Extracurriculars, Yay!) Find a running club or a book club or a dinner club or a golf league or a slow-pitch softball team. Again, it doesn't matter what it is. But it does matter that it's something you enjoy and it gets you together with other people. It matters that it gets you interested in doing things to relax and unwind other than watching TV or surfing Facebook (or, if you're me, Instagram (#instaaddict))...or playing video games (I'm looking at you, husbands).<br />
<br />
Take up running or tennis or fly fishing. Start painting or baking or gardening. Volunteer at a local animal shelter or soup kitchen or library. Take the classes to get SCUBA certified or CPR certified or teaching certified. Learn to knit or throw a pot or fix an engine.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMlzt1x_onYv9YALVgIuMNW_tFeEnEiCul-PMLU7ZLVDd4l85Ctr5tTxBadzNNbI0KTg4hwEe50DmdkYGHSBFQS1B-hsjw18n1jbeed0kxPPmEYNDZNnNbe7v5SusTz-ja7TfhYIulcY/s1600/IMG_0341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMlzt1x_onYv9YALVgIuMNW_tFeEnEiCul-PMLU7ZLVDd4l85Ctr5tTxBadzNNbI0KTg4hwEe50DmdkYGHSBFQS1B-hsjw18n1jbeed0kxPPmEYNDZNnNbe7v5SusTz-ja7TfhYIulcY/s200/IMG_0341.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From a Bonsai class my<br />husband and I took last fall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And, if you can, do it with a group.<br />
<br />
Meet new people. Make new friends. Converse with people outside your comfort zone, whatever that zone may be. Do something you've never done before. Do something that makes you nervous. Do something that you "would never do."<br />
<br />
Push. Stretch. Reach.<br />
<br />
Reach for something further away than your own doorstep. Challenge yourself with something new. That is where growth lives.<br />
<br />
Until next time, TAKE A CLASS. (You knew that was coming ;-)<br />
<br />
Namaste.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-15185649422223282752019-01-17T09:00:00.001-08:002019-01-17T09:00:13.008-08:002019 Goals: Continue, Return to, More of...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvSRGj1HlUWdjtareoqry4IDzZUr7_hZtPt6B1L7Zwl8jPkZXSsUM7kcZvlrg2N-4QehP_HSNaP9mZpBG9SACPkKZoE4Y7DWHLG1YDwDRO737ykHhk-IgLvGeNzmF-u5DkK6f2ouzsV4/s1600/IMG_1104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvSRGj1HlUWdjtareoqry4IDzZUr7_hZtPt6B1L7Zwl8jPkZXSsUM7kcZvlrg2N-4QehP_HSNaP9mZpBG9SACPkKZoE4Y7DWHLG1YDwDRO737ykHhk-IgLvGeNzmF-u5DkK6f2ouzsV4/s640/IMG_1104.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I always spend time at the beginning of each year thinking about the year ahead of me. I have this notebook in which I've been writing thoughts and dreams and goals and ideas for years. I pull this notebook out and I look at it. I flip through the pages and soak in all of the aspiration and energy that radiates off the paper. It's like taking a bath in optimist soup! Then I focus in on what I wrote last year.<br />
<br />
What was I brainstorming about? What was I trying to do? And what of that did I accomplish?<br />
<br />
When I've done all of that, I usually start brainstorming around the new year. In the past I've even come up with a theme for the new year and centered my goals around that theme.<br />
<br />
But this year was a little different.<br />
<br />
First of all, now that writing has become more of a job than a hobby for me, I create two separate lists: one of writing goals and one of life goals. Like anyone with a career, you're likely to have work goals and personal goals. For me, those two worlds used to overlap more. Now, writing is such a focus of mine that it needs its own list.<br />
<br />
But, what struck me when I looked at my goals for last year, is that I found I had actually accomplished a lot of what I set out to do. My daily life was taking the shape--most of the time--that I had been seeking for years. That was so exciting to realize! I felt like I had really made some genuine progress. But I also found that some things that I had done well at the beginning of 2018 and fallen off more than I would like by the year's end. And, I found some goals I hadn't really made much headway on at all.<br />
<br />
I closed my notebook and walked away to give it all some time to stew. And what I ended up with were a few short lists on a scratch pad--lists that came quite easily-- that captured my goals for 2019. And the lists were grouped differently from how I'd done it before.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkmixJWxHh6xPyMeUboAoqsZB7N4UnuYRLl42Y2GmVBvyeYiSeCe63M0GlYvkk8tF4ZjMKh0Nsx5OLvdkHzysePAyQlzllhpeTOZkRRSE6mHLTn87fu7Jzj3jy8bEm6wOdlu-KUq4-7Q/s1600/IMG_1065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkmixJWxHh6xPyMeUboAoqsZB7N4UnuYRLl42Y2GmVBvyeYiSeCe63M0GlYvkk8tF4ZjMKh0Nsx5OLvdkHzysePAyQlzllhpeTOZkRRSE6mHLTn87fu7Jzj3jy8bEm6wOdlu-KUq4-7Q/s200/IMG_1065.JPG" width="150" /></a>First I listed things that I wanted to CONTINUE. These are the things that I had accomplished last year and wanted to carry on into the new year. This list gives a nod to all that I accomplished in 2018, and recognizes that it will take work to keep those things up. Here's what landed on that list:<br />
<br />
<b>Continue...</b><br />
- Writing<br />
- Daily meditation<br />
- Art Play<br />
- Blogging<br />
- Reading<br />
- Sleeping well<br />
<br />
The next list captured the things that I was doing well at the beginning of 2018 (or maybe it was back in 2017!), but somehow lost track of as the year went on. These are things that I want to get back on track with in 2019. They are my RETURN TOs. That list looked like this:<br />
<br />
<b>Return to...</b><br />
- Daily workouts<br />
- Healthy eating<br />
- Journalling/Gratitude practice<br />
- Walking the dog<br />
- Stretching<br />
- Vitamins and supplements<br />
- Hubby-time<br />
<br />
Then came the list of new things. This is the stuff that I want MORE OF in my life than I have had in recent years. It's the stuff that I've never done but want to do...or learn. This is the hardest list for me to keep contained. Because once I get started brainstorming all the things I want to do and learn, it's really easy for me to get carried away. So I tried to keep this list reasonable. I left things off like, learning to play the guitar, deciding that I would put that on next years list. This is where I ended up:<br />
<br />
<b>More of...</b><br />
- Travel and adventure<br />
- Baking<br />
- Being outside<br />
- Cooking intuitively (without a recipe)<br />
- Learning to sew/knit/quilt/crochet...something in that area<br />
- Friend-time<br />
- Family-time<br />
<br />
When I got to this point I felt there was one category missing. Something that felt more like a project list. You know, all those one-off things that you want to do but never seem to find the time to do? A great example of this is organizing photos/making photo albums. This has been on my list for, like, five years. And I have yet to do it. BUT, I still want to...really, I do. So, it goes on this list:<br />
<br />
<b>Things to do...</b><br />
- Clean out and organize<br />
- Donations<br />
- Cooking class with the kids<br />
- Make photo books<i> (see?!?!)</i><br />
- Learn Scrivener<br />
- Read more writing books<br />
- Make a vision board<br />
- Take local trips<br />
- Do January DM Resolution Reboot <i>(this is underway, btw)</i><br />
<br />
When I was done with all of this list making I found that I really liked this "categoried" approach. I even liked it enough to want to share it with all of you.<br />
<br />
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When I went back over my writing goals, I discovered that that list could be divided into these "Continue, Return to, More of, Things to do" categories, too. Things like: "Continue taking Masterclass writing classes," and "Return to journal writing," and "More of short story writing."<br />
<br />
But, I'll tell you, I keep track of my writing goals on a monthly calendar and I have a lot more structure around my process and progress there (as most folks would do, with any job).<br />
<br />
So now that I have my 2019 goals in place, and I've started down the path of achieving them, I want to make sure that I check in on those goals...that I don't forget today's New Year energy and passion behind them. So I keep them out where I can see them. And I look at them daily. And I hold myself accountable. Or, at least, I try to.<br />
<br />
Because that's how we go after dreams. We pursue them, day in and day out. And we keep our eye on the prize. I feel comfortable saying that I've transformed my daily life over the last few years. The things I used to only wish for, are now a part of my reality. That's what goals can do.<br />
<br />
So ask yourself this: What do I want to CONTINUE this year? What do I want to RETURN TO? What do I want MORE OF? And, What are some one-off projects I really want TO DO?<br />
<br />
Until next time, here are some words to motivate you as you tackle your 2019 goals:<br />
<br />
You are powerful.<br />
You are wise.<br />
You are free.<br />
You are fierce.<br />
You radiate love.<br />
You shine.<br />
<br />
Namaste.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-64809469419697924802019-01-07T10:00:00.000-08:002019-01-07T15:48:39.588-08:00December Art Play and Words of Wisdom for 2019<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIhZCzuy2_-MjGWgizblfXpgnM5kCEXhsRGrbyESu-s46j9_zIuhv3NFSAm7jHyMX8OLxIDBh_Rj9Hsa1TW1dirIg0Suk_xgI-T23ik3az5WSxyQ6nrZUwNxYPPVbQ-1sHU-Cgb_y5L8/s1600/IMG_0789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIhZCzuy2_-MjGWgizblfXpgnM5kCEXhsRGrbyESu-s46j9_zIuhv3NFSAm7jHyMX8OLxIDBh_Rj9Hsa1TW1dirIg0Suk_xgI-T23ik3az5WSxyQ6nrZUwNxYPPVbQ-1sHU-Cgb_y5L8/s640/IMG_0789.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my art mat beneath a window on the floor in the corner of my dining room. It's not pretty. It's a mess. I love it here.</td></tr>
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If you follow me on Instagram @bookwormanista (and if you don't, you should: <a href="http://instagram.com/bookwormanista" target="_blank">instagram.com/bookwormanista</a>), then you already know that I had a lot of fun playing on my art mat in the month of December. I took the month off from writing, as a recovery period after winning Nanowrimo2018 and finishing the first draft of a new novel. I tend to let things go in December. I didn't so much succumb to the insanity as I did when the kids were younger, but things are crazy and there is much ado, so I just try to roll with it. Rolling with it meant decompressing on my art mat and discovering a new process for myself. Which was super cool.</div>
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A few months back I took a one day art class with a local artist whose art I admire. It was supposed to be a group class but others cancelled last minute and it ended up being just the two of us. Which turned out to be great. I learned a lot and came home with a large, 22x30, piece of art I'd created on this lovely, thick paper. The piece, still taped to the cardboard "worktop" I'd used at the class, sat leaning against the wall in my workspace (aka the dining room) doing nothing. Until December.</div>
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I pulled it out and started painting over it in small sections. I realized that essentially what I had created in that rainy Saturday art class many months ago, was a background...a first layer. I had covered the white space-- like the first draft of a novel-- and now I needed to revise and edit that first layer into art. Not gallery wall art, but little pieces of inspiration...little nuggets that spoke to my heart. </div>
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Each time I sat down at the 22x30 sheet of "first draft," I decided what I wanted to paint and then I'd search the large sheet for just the right spot. I'd paint, and then I'd tear that little section off of the larger sheet. Each piece I painted in one day. Usually in less than an hour. A little half hour window of time, placed delicately between other things, for creation and play.</div>
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Create. Rest. Repeat. Until all I had left were a couple of small scraps...that I will likely paint on this week. </div>
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I loved this process so much that I just ordered two, 22x30 sheets of the same thick, luxurious paper so I can again create first draft backgrounds and then parse them into little painted feelings. </div>
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So here they are...my feelings from December:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaRJDH_Xzvdr_VwZAsgRzx1zlbHTJx6QfqXGOAPBtyZO9lvXuOPwDrFLG3wUfoVATMiFdcK2auhSvonE4ZCC04vqh52QzyEe5K68p9i7arVgJ5coKIoroOqnPZb9z7QaCwkZSEyQ8SSU/s1600/IMG_0775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1475" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaRJDH_Xzvdr_VwZAsgRzx1zlbHTJx6QfqXGOAPBtyZO9lvXuOPwDrFLG3wUfoVATMiFdcK2auhSvonE4ZCC04vqh52QzyEe5K68p9i7arVgJ5coKIoroOqnPZb9z7QaCwkZSEyQ8SSU/s320/IMG_0775.JPG" width="295" /></a>The first one I painted was inspired by a piece by Lori Portka. She does amazing, inspirational, soothing art. This one was my Christmas wish....<i>Make a wish</i> 4 peace. And it's one of my favorites that I created. This is the one that inspired me to keep going. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwL77eG0SRlI44lrHllGdYG7E6DHQXgr_mPqRSRoT6Xq2UUVhbIilKKYaou5AeMpvweEYXGH8AL8qBnJH9LSIEbYkqN3MUOGlWmbjwKdmrC8MMR-Jg6K_OB5VbTTCtjzrjKdDNF8nkL8/s1600/IMG_0766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwL77eG0SRlI44lrHllGdYG7E6DHQXgr_mPqRSRoT6Xq2UUVhbIilKKYaou5AeMpvweEYXGH8AL8qBnJH9LSIEbYkqN3MUOGlWmbjwKdmrC8MMR-Jg6K_OB5VbTTCtjzrjKdDNF8nkL8/s320/IMG_0766.JPG" width="240" /></a>This one was inspired by an illustration I saw...somewhere. It's a mini, country winter painting. <i>Go where your heart takes you</i>...for me, in December, my heart has always taken me home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIwbo4qbkkaiDggMeqOIYfRrFg678ybL5FaHSLov4YKDQxzNExZL9rsBFzD4JUT1SdoTQyFD76bXZvt190RcAqRPYoKJegY7ftNjeGFI3pkBLBT5zJ1Ruxa46cGW_1n68IxyQhWkaUII/s1600/IMG_0770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwIwbo4qbkkaiDggMeqOIYfRrFg678ybL5FaHSLov4YKDQxzNExZL9rsBFzD4JUT1SdoTQyFD76bXZvt190RcAqRPYoKJegY7ftNjeGFI3pkBLBT5zJ1Ruxa46cGW_1n68IxyQhWkaUII/s320/IMG_0770.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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This one is another favorite. It was inspired by a children's illustration I saw on Instagram. It's a different, more rudimentary, childish style and I loved painting this way. This one said to me, <i>Always take the scenic route</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUSLLUEtr-natq8m5uf04jkffHxEgxltdelJNLucEQRz8vZrLql8yvvFEfj1VCD28h4ZslFoE2ibkEtJGvnMW77itDcVVeg3ubmgf0xicj-Ad4g5H8ld4k2hvhhpwW87PsrSNEDKMhhE/s1600/IMG_0767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUSLLUEtr-natq8m5uf04jkffHxEgxltdelJNLucEQRz8vZrLql8yvvFEfj1VCD28h4ZslFoE2ibkEtJGvnMW77itDcVVeg3ubmgf0xicj-Ad4g5H8ld4k2hvhhpwW87PsrSNEDKMhhE/s320/IMG_0767.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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A cute little snowman. 'Tis the season, and all that. This is super simple and rather childish and literal, but it's a reminder to me to<i> remember to play</i>. Especially during the kids' winter break from school, when I need to put aside my to dos from time to time and just play...with them and on my own. This is what art is for me...playtime.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJKtdcV5PFhuvNdx68AJ_CHls90pwOoSWUFpfL5NbZLJ9EpUjDJtKiN36Xw9yn1BloKDKAQQyDCvfDsW7_vq1p7HmreOJ7EYEQ1cGy8YINkg0mwrdciFcEioByK94hljOit-7l9QuaQY/s1600/IMG_0799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJKtdcV5PFhuvNdx68AJ_CHls90pwOoSWUFpfL5NbZLJ9EpUjDJtKiN36Xw9yn1BloKDKAQQyDCvfDsW7_vq1p7HmreOJ7EYEQ1cGy8YINkg0mwrdciFcEioByK94hljOit-7l9QuaQY/s320/IMG_0799.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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This was inspired by a photo of my niece during her semester abroad. I have the pleasure of watching both of my nieces do things I never did when I was their age-- being brave explorers of the world and themselves. It's fun to be on the sidelines of their lives, cheering them on. <i>Be fearless, independent and original...</i>that's what I think of when I think of my niece.<i> </i>What's funny about this painting is that I redid the face about a hundred times and never got it quite right. I never knew, until I painted this, that my niece looks like Joni Mitchell. At least when I paint her she does. (<i>I've looked at love from both sides now</i>...favorite Joni Mitchell song, now running through my head.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IWd7anZmyaJuPkiVjb8pbKXc6BOnQ3i0ApMwHI7mG0ENJvVEnyEYUAzZWqm5yF7X7WFQVDjiah7bKuUj6hpy5rEKm2l8aT3hClHZqi-JVa5peXDe7I0bTN57nKSNdukp2qMC40EtDyU/s1600/IMG_0798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IWd7anZmyaJuPkiVjb8pbKXc6BOnQ3i0ApMwHI7mG0ENJvVEnyEYUAzZWqm5yF7X7WFQVDjiah7bKuUj6hpy5rEKm2l8aT3hClHZqi-JVa5peXDe7I0bTN57nKSNdukp2qMC40EtDyU/s320/IMG_0798.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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This was inspired by a photo of my other niece. Somehow I managed to capture her enough in this that I can recognize her in it, but it doesn't come close to showing how beautiful she is. She inspires me. She is somehow full of joy even though she also struggles with her own stuff. And this pic just said to me: <i>be you, bravely</i>. P.S. She's hugging a giant giraffe pillow.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1XaQAgz5P4v8LnzzG3fw4YL3y3xYPy0cq9Vxlm5cocgMQl5xcW44CXYgw_yai_dfuUKsxnYyu6C4SNFVnLMx2rSoyKk3jxp43R6ghtCPFyVmdi5l7CVNylTxqYnhtWUflF6stT7RP8Y/s1600/fullsizeoutput_599b.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1XaQAgz5P4v8LnzzG3fw4YL3y3xYPy0cq9Vxlm5cocgMQl5xcW44CXYgw_yai_dfuUKsxnYyu6C4SNFVnLMx2rSoyKk3jxp43R6ghtCPFyVmdi5l7CVNylTxqYnhtWUflF6stT7RP8Y/s320/fullsizeoutput_599b.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We got a holiday post card from something banal, like, our insurance company, with this cozy picture of a mug and cookie and I just liked it. It made me think of warm cookies in the winter and how important it is to <i>fall in love with as many things as possible</i>...all the things...big and little. Just. Fall. In. Love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_43PWsDe304Gi1OpHCxU2Zoxw8y-7y7DrTY_Il-92P6wUfciu6J_5y8Dv30_iyiFFuxmjOousg3ZwHAHPqxLXaCTx14yEHaZgj44vzVAag9ApHy5raTupMe-s-dnEzV-ry4AxfMarBA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_599a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_43PWsDe304Gi1OpHCxU2Zoxw8y-7y7DrTY_Il-92P6wUfciu6J_5y8Dv30_iyiFFuxmjOousg3ZwHAHPqxLXaCTx14yEHaZgj44vzVAag9ApHy5raTupMe-s-dnEzV-ry4AxfMarBA/s320/fullsizeoutput_599a.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>I llama u.</i> My daughter is in love with llamas and alpacas right now and I saw this photo of three alpacas with Santa hats on and had to paint it...thinking of her, of course. My kids remind me to <i>have an open heart</i>...these stinkin' cute alpacas make me think of that, too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80F2Ofge22IGfW12r-nQeF5XDIEdVd4b48mI0iEAb4Grf1EcCBpKMq0xNCI0zlHyQcBSJEMFA4A7FvN9IQJB2cdft4Yosl-rI_wvFwaHvFSQZEZ-hx5rpVw3OPmHyI-fnPbCogMj6HoQ/s1600/IMG_0809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80F2Ofge22IGfW12r-nQeF5XDIEdVd4b48mI0iEAb4Grf1EcCBpKMq0xNCI0zlHyQcBSJEMFA4A7FvN9IQJB2cdft4Yosl-rI_wvFwaHvFSQZEZ-hx5rpVw3OPmHyI-fnPbCogMj6HoQ/s320/IMG_0809.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I saw this gorgeous photo of a little A-frame cabin nestled in the woods with twinkle lights strung from the house to the trees. Seeing a home cuddled by nature this way reminded me that we must <i>live gently upon this earth</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFmis5YZkS1yFQjQo3FX0tUklHgftqoPBLbkcneCSbBSIvGy3EDlygckMPGedpPVQx5ugsOYxbMPnaY1MpeCtawRgzSzAiJUrULGpERooaj1pi7YwRjNEX3DxWmEmyHUN7KMCn9ElBVq8/s1600/IMG_1055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFmis5YZkS1yFQjQo3FX0tUklHgftqoPBLbkcneCSbBSIvGy3EDlygckMPGedpPVQx5ugsOYxbMPnaY1MpeCtawRgzSzAiJUrULGpERooaj1pi7YwRjNEX3DxWmEmyHUN7KMCn9ElBVq8/s320/IMG_1055.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I actually did the owl in January, but, whatever. It was inspired by a book cover. I don't even know what the book was, but I liked it's gilded cover. Plus I love owls. The message was inspired by the new year: <i>Choose to shine</i>. </div>
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The last one wasn't done on my art mat or on the paper I used for all of the others. This one was done in my art book on New Year's Eve while hanging out with my family in Florida. It's a pensive deer. Thoughtful. Graceful. And a bit skittish. Kinda like me closing out the old year and entering into the new one.</div>
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So there you have it. December Art Play. What I lack in ability I make up for in love. When you look back over all of these simple, little paintings I hope you see what went into all of them...peace. That is what their creation brought me...tiny spaces of peace. It is such a gift. So I close out 2018 and step into 2019 in this floaty place of peace...and play...and inspiration.</div>
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Your words of wisdom as you step into 2019:</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">make a wish.</span> <span style="color: blue;">go where your heart takes you.</span> <i>always take the scenic route.</i> <span style="font-size: large;">remember to play.</span> <span style="color: magenta;">be fearless, independent and original.</span> <span style="color: yellow; font-size: large;">be you, bravely.</span> <i><b>fall in love with as many things as possible.</b></i> <span style="color: red;"><b>have an open heart.</b></span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">live gently upon this earth. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>choose to shine.</i></span></div>
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Until next time, find your play space and play, play, play.</div>
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Namaste.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-75857556770969884912018-12-19T08:27:00.001-08:002018-12-19T08:27:32.735-08:00Note to Self<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Over the years I have become a master in the art of notes. I make notes to myself in my phone, on sticky notes, in my calendar, on long lists, in writing notebooks and planning notebooks, and in my head. I leave notes for my kids in their lunch boxes. I write notes in cards and emails and text messages to my family and friends. I send reminder notes and favor notes and random thoughts to my husband when he's at work.<br />
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I have note pads and note books and note apps galore. Lots of places and spaces to make notes to myself. Do this. Do that. Don't forget this. Remember that. And I love them. They give me a certain sense of security. They assuage my anxiety. Or, at least I thought they did. I mean, they did...until they didn't.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtS00OfNmngfpSH_6OW9YhBlrNoIQAPZseaebnXkNoXRUDf7tTZzP9ym_xxjSrVANQ7oDMskmEQd_Rpr-XAczK4kPg-grxkZDsMskVrJjOemPCJG6tW2Dl33Xwk1fYk18czYdpy6sjzPo/s1600/fullsizeoutput_58e1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtS00OfNmngfpSH_6OW9YhBlrNoIQAPZseaebnXkNoXRUDf7tTZzP9ym_xxjSrVANQ7oDMskmEQd_Rpr-XAczK4kPg-grxkZDsMskVrJjOemPCJG6tW2Dl33Xwk1fYk18czYdpy6sjzPo/s320/fullsizeoutput_58e1.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Somewhere along the line my note making went from being a helpful habit to being something more akin to an addiction. But, as far as I know, there's no twelve step program for note making. So, I'm on my own with this one.<br />
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Over the last few months I've started trying to curb my note-making addiction-- the writing and rewriting of to dos and ideas and whatnot. When I have the urge to write something down or make a note in my phone, I stop and ask myself, <i>Do I really need to write this down? Is it already written down somewhere else? Is this something I'll remember to do on my own? </i><br />
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Appointments I write down. Reminders for things related to the kids' activities or school, I write down. But most of the other stuff, if I'm honest, I probably don't need to write down. And I certainly don't need to have it noted in my phone <i>and</i> in my calendar <i>and</i> on a sticky note.<br />
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I'm so worried about letting something fall through the cracks, that I write it all down so that everything gets covered. But, guess what? Things still fall through the cracks. And it often doesn't make me feel better to write it down, it just makes me think about all the things there are to do. So, I'm trying to stop.<br />
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You would not believe how hard it is to stop making lists.<br />
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It's, like, crazy hard. Harder than stopping snacking in the evening. Harder than getting back into an exercise routine after time off. Harder than...well, you get the picture.<br />
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Then I heard this song called<i> Note to Self</i> by Ben Rector, and it made me look at my notes to myself in a different way. What if I used them to remind me of the important things instead of the seemingly urgent things? (You know, use my powers for good rather than evil.)<br />
<br />
The song starts off with things you might find on a typical to do list:<br />
- Clean the living room.<br />
- Fold the laundry.<br />
- Exercise.<br />
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But then it moves to a different kind of to do list:<br />
- Don't worry so much.<br />
- Think of other people more.<br />
- Keep choosing your significant other.<br />
- Call your mother.<br />
<br />
This inspired me to consider a new goal for 2019. To only write notes to myself like this...<br />
- Remember to stop and look around.<br />
- Breathe.<br />
- Go for a walk in the fresh air.<br />
- Call a friend.<br />
- Do one thing at a time.<br />
- Savor each bite.<br />
- Give more.<br />
- Tell yourself your beautiful.<br />
- Smile.<br />
- Cuddle with the kids.<br />
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I'm trying to start this now, but it's hard for me. Tis the season for waking up with a to do list running through my brain. But each day I try again. And again. And again.<br />
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To change the meaning of making a Note to Self...consider that goal number one for 2019.<br />
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Until next time, make a note to yourself that has nothing to do with your seemingly never-ending to do list. And then follow through on it.<br />
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<br />
<br />
P.S. Here's a link to Ben Rector's song, in case you want to hear it yourself: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kdjmie7KPrU" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kdjmie7KPrU</a><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-26923496793410355002018-12-05T07:25:00.002-08:002018-12-05T07:25:44.814-08:00Holiday Stress and Anxiety<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh my Lord, it's December, people!</span><br />
<br />
The month when my brain goes a mile a minute during all of the minutes. The season when I am forever remembering that I've forgotten something. (How is it even possible to be constantly in a state of both forgetting and remembering??? It's like having my feet in two different dimensions at the same time. In one version of reality I am remembering everything--Yay; in the another version I am forgetting everything--Boo. (I hope there's a third reality where I'm just napping and reading and drinking coffee.)<br />
<br />
Fifteen minutes ago, I checked out twice at Target because the first time I forgot a gift card-- the gift card that was my main purpose for going to Target in the first place...and this was my third trip to Target in the last seven days. (insert eye roll here-- Target you are a blessing and a curse.)<br />
<br />
But my brain did not just short circuit on December 1st, oh no. That happened on November 24th...<br />
<br />
We visited my in-laws for Thanksgiving this year and had The. Best. Time! We visited with both of my husbands parents, had Thanksgiving dinner and a lovely evening at his cousins, and then had an awesome night of fun at his brother's house. I even got to have lunch with my dear friend, Kristen (who has known me for over thirty years and still likes me!), which I only get to do once a year and it's my favorite! I was even managing to keep up with my Nano word count. It. Was. Great.<br />
<br />
Until it wasn't.<br />
<br />
It happened Saturday night. We were set to tackle the 8+ hour drive home Sunday morning when, out of nowhere, my daughter got sick...followed by my husband just a few hours later. It was terrible. Mainly it was terrible for them (obviously), but somehow it became terrible for me, too.<br />
<br />
I didn't get sick--not with the stomach bug, at least. (Thank you, Sweet Jesus.) But somewhere in the mix of caring for my sickies and waiting to get hit by it myself, my anxiety ramped up and had an absolute field day with me.<br />
<br />
My stomach was a mess. I felt run down and worn out. I was exhausted. And yet, I was keyed up. I was in a constant state of "I just have to get <span style="font-size: large;">everything</span> done before this hits me." I rushed around like a maniac, while some part of my brain spun in a never-ending cycle of questioning all body sensations and wondering if "that was it...am I about to get it?"<br />
<br />
But when we finally made it home and everyone got better, I didn't. I continued to spin. Physically and mentally. Spin. Spin. Spin.<br />
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Here's what's funny: I didn't even realize it was the anxiety. (I know, sad. You'd think I'd spot it quickly by now, but I've proven to have a blind spot for this.) It wasn't until my husband said something to me, that maybe this was my anxiety, that I had the light bulb moment.<br />
<br />
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. The anxiety.<br />
<br />
Do you have that moment when your period surprises you one day and then you're like, oh, right, that's why I was insane a few days ago!? This was kind of like that. After-the-fact clarity.<br />
<br />
And that's also when I remembered that I'd given up almost all self-care during this time, too. No mediation. No exercise. Very little quiet, downtime. So I launched back into routine, full force. And I started to feel better. And now I'm hyper-aware and watching that little rascal, anxiety, extra closely. Every time it rears its ugly head, I tackle it with breathing and calming, happy thoughts and tell it to hit the road.<br />
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Now, I'm back to regular holiday stress. My friend Julie sent me this meme the other day:<br />
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Speak the truth, meme. Preach.<br />
<br />
Here's the truth of December 2018 for me so far:<br />
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My house is partially decorated-- partially decorated with Christmas decorations and partially decorated with giant storage bins. (We're still not done, much to my chagrin.) I got a bunch of Panera gift cards while my daughter was at Girl Scouts Sunday night and was all high-fiving myself only to realize after I got home that I'd forgotten someone. Same with Target gift cards--ordered them during the 10% off day, and forgot one. I have not given one thought to Christmas cookies or food for when all the guests descend beginning next week. It's possible that my poor mother will have to grocery shop for and cook the food she eats while at my house. Send her condolences, please.<br />
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I currently have a hate-hate relationship with the grocery store, despite reminding myself endlessly how lucky I am to have a grocery that provides most of what I need, and to have the money to buy the food. I am the posterchild for first world problems and totally need to get over myself. But still, that fucking grocery store! Ugh!<br />
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I am randomly ordering gifts online. All the time. Like, just at random. No plan, really. Who knows if I'm getting not enough or too many. What if I'm ordering everything for one kid and nothing for the other? It could happen. And I haven't even looked at Christmas cards yet, let alone created and ordered them-- though I have thought about them once or twice. I haven't even thought about the family calendar I make every year. It may be <i>Happy Valentine's Day-- here's your calendar-- hope you didn't need to know any dates in the month of January!</i><br />
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And don't even get me started on the attitude in my house right now! Where's the Christmas spirit? I can tell you where it isn't-- in my house!! My husband is massively stressed and overwhelmed at work and not sleeping, and there's nothing I can do to help except hug him a lot. Both kids are completely wack-a-doo. Angry and yelling. Bursting into tears. Not feeling well. Bouncing off the walls. Fighting over<span style="font-size: large;"> everything</span>! Absolutely nothing is fair, according to them. Not. A. Thing.<br />
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I'm trying to hold it all together, people. I'm really trying. I'm chipper and chirpy as much as I can be, when I'm not completely run down from racing all over town and all over the house trying, trying, trying. I'm singing the Christmas songs and noticing the beautiful sky and thanking the universe for all the good and all the love. I'm snuggling with the kid warm from bed and giggling with the kid over some pillow talk when she's supposed to already be asleep.<br />
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And it turns out I'm just living the life.<br />
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As always, doing the best I can and learning the lessons over and over. And I'm getting a little bit better at it every year. And I try to remember that, and give myself a little credit. As my friend Julie said, <i>It's okay to be stressed this time of year</i>. Give yourself permission to let it be as it is. But don't stay there. Think the good thoughts too. Have the wine and the cookie. Look at the pretty lights. Smile at the person on the street. Listen to your kids' giggles. Hug your stressed-out spouse. Read a cozy book. Treat yourself tenderly. Send the loving kindness out into the world.<br />
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Send the loving kindness to yourself.<br />
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Until next time, ride the holiday roller coaster with as much lightness of being as you can muster, and I'll see you on the other side. xo<br />
<br />
Happy Holidays and Namaste, friend.<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. For those who are wondering, I did win Nanowrimo 2018! I finished the 50,000+ word first draft of a new contemporary middle grade novel called, <i>The Witchdoctor</i>. And now I'm excited to get back to revising last year's Nano book. Yay! I'll update you more on the writing soon!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-87690586120369496252018-10-17T08:37:00.000-07:002018-10-17T08:37:13.526-07:00What I've Been Listening To: Audio Non-Fiction that's Totally Worth Your TimeI've been obsessively listening to audiobooks lately. I have multiple books running on my phone through Audible, plus library books running through Hoopla, AND the kids and I are listening to (and loving) The Emerald Atlas by John Stephens audiobook in the car. Not only am I listening to new books, but I'm also relistening to one of my favorite "pump me up" books, You Are A Badass by Jen Sincero, pretty much any few moments I get. I actually just paused an audiobook so that I could write this blog post.<br />
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I'm still reading hardcopy, hold-in-my-hand books too, never fear (currently: The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer; just finished: Obsidio (The Iluminae Files book 3...see earlier blog post on that trilogy) and Crazy Rich Asians (which I did not love)). BUT, it's audiobooks that hold my passion and attention right now. I'm not entirely sure why...the ease? the fact that I can listen while I drive or fold laundry or walk the dog? am I just "into" nonfiction right now? IDK. Regardless of the reason, I'm listening voraciously and I've got some recommendations for you. So let's dig in.<br />
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<b>Lab Girl by Hope Jahren</b>: I just finished this one yesterday and I really loved it. It's this fascinating mix between memoir and geobiology class--which doesn't necessarily sound awesome, but it is. Hope Jahren is a geochemist and geobiologist, a research scientist and university professor. Her book tells the story of her life and her life as a scientist and how those two things intermingle. It is emotional and beautifully written. She reads the audio herself with a dry monotone that fits her writing personality (but that can be, at times, a little sleep-inducing...so I had to take breaks; I typically listen in 30 minute intervals anyway, though). Though I loved her story, my favorite "character", by far, was her research partner, Bill-- and their sibling-esque relationship. (He has THE BEST lines! I want to meet him in person after reading this book--and Jahren delivers his dry wit perfectly!) I learned stuff about nature and people. And I think I look at both a bit differently now.<br />
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<b>Hunger: A Memoir of My Body by Roxane Gay</b>: For me, this was an eye-opening, and surprisingly relatable book; and an important read. This is Roxane's memoir of being an obese person in a society that openly mocks obese people. She tells her story of being a slim young girl and the things that happened in her life that lead to her obesity. She shares all the feelings and thoughts that come with navigating our world when your fat. And it's heart-wrenching, at times. And it's massively eye-opening. And, as someone who's never been more than 10-15 lbs overweight, it was shocking to me how much I related to her. How similar I felt. And then, how shameful I felt for thoughts I've had about obese people in the past. Roxane Gay reads the audio and there is something so powerful about hearing her words from her own mouth. If you've ever looked at someone and judged them without knowing a thing about them, other than the surface you can see, you should read this book.<br />
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<b>The Blue Zones of Happiness by Dan Buettner</b>: This book made me think about the way my environment, and how I choose to react to it, impacts my happiness. It made me look at and reevaluate the effort I make (or don't make); the thoughts and perspectives I cling to; and where and how I choose to live; and how that all effects my happiness. And it inspired me to try something different and make some changes. It can be a bit dry in parts, but I learned a lot and got some great perspective. It's an excellent book to have playing in the background while you do other things.<br />
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<b>The Art of Possibility by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander</b>: This is another "make you think differently" kind of book. It's pretty short and sweet. And it's chocked full of great new ways to look at the challenges in your life. Pretty inspiring.<br />
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<b>Loving What Is by Byron Katie</b>: If you really want to blow your mind and challenge the way you think about EVERYTHING, then this is the book for you. I listened to it after someone else I admire recommended it. At first, I thought I'd made a big mistake in buying this one. But I listened on and ended up fascinated by Katie's perspective. The book could have been shortened as there's some unnecessary repetition, but the lessons in this book are amazing and potentially life-altering, if you choose to implement them. Pretty fascinating.<br />
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Up next: Educated: A Memoir by Tara Westover (for book club), Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell, and The Confidence Code for Girls by Clair Shipman and Katty Kay.<br />
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Have any audiobooks you'd highly recommend? Let me me know in the comments!<br />
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Until next time, happy reading (listening)!<br />
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Namaste.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-28177530157905017482018-10-11T09:20:00.000-07:002018-10-11T09:20:41.010-07:00Different but Equal: Thoughts from an Optimist's Journal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dear Diary,<br />
I was really tired last week. Like, really tired. Like in my bones. Throughout my body. In my brain. Just, tired. My first inclination is to react to this by powering through.<i> I can do it.</i> I'll get up and get going and it'll be fine. I ignore what my body is telling me with fatigue, and aches and pains, and brain fog, and I plow on through.<br />
<br />
And then, on the, like, third day of exhaustion, despite reasonable nights of sleep, it occurs to me that maybe I should listen to my body. <i>Maybe it's okay to take it easy.</i> Maybe the ridiculously heavy period I'm having is somehow related to how I'm feeling. Maybe my body needs me to slow down...just for a bit.<br />
<br />
Fun Fact: Did you know that back in biblical times, women went to a special place together during menstruation? The Red Tent. (The book of the same name, by Anita Diamant, is wonderful, by the way.) There were lots of reasons for this back then (some, not so great) that we don't need to get into right now, but menstruation became a time for rest and community.<br />
<br />
Today, there is no rest. We power through everything. We take no breaks. We follow no cycles or rhythms. <i>We just go.</i> Day. Night. Summer. Winter. Healthy. Sick.<br />
<br />
We go.<br />
<br />
But I wonder, sometimes, if that's the right approach. Not because we can't do it-- we've proven that we can. <i>But maybe we don't need to.</i> Maybe following the cycles and rhythms of our bodies and of nature makes more sense. Maybe dictating our world by women's standards (ours and mother nature's) rather than men's makes more sense for us.<br />
<br />
I've been wondering a lot lately about the ways in which our world would look different if we lived in a matriarchal society rather than a patriarchal one. Not because I dislike men, but because I'm curious. What would it look like? How would it be different?<br />
<br />
Then I think, what if our world was truly egalitarian? If everyone was truly equal and had all of the same rights and opportunities. If we honored both the yin and yang in our culture and did not try to force one to be like the other.<br />
<br />
Being different doesn't mean that one has to be better than the other. They can be different, but equal.<br />
<br />
Then I wonder, what would our world look like if we were still more in tune with mother nature? If we bent, even slightly, to her rhythms? If we toiled and played later in the day when the days are long, and sought more rest and quiet when the days are short? What if we allowed the natural cycles of emotions? If we rode the ebb and flow of ups and downs, happiness and sorrow, instead of fighting for joy and energy--<i>oh, our battle for energy!</i>-- every moment of every day?<br />
<br />
And what if we listened, truly listened, to our bodies? What if we slept when we were tired and ate when we were hungry (and stopped when we were full)? What if we moved often, but never took it to extremes? What if we rested when we needed it, and nurtured and nourished ourselves led by that little, knowing voice that lives within us all?<br />
<br />
What if we listened to our intuition? Followed our gut?<br />
<br />
I am so full of questions right now. Questions I've only every thought of as applying to myself...or yourself. To the individual. But now I'm wondering if these are, in fact, societal questions. What if we could remake our society? Take all the best of all we've learned over all of these years and just remake it.<br />
<br />
What if we let go of our fear of change, this tight grip on <i>what is</i>, and open ourselves to what could be? What if we no longer accepted the status quo? If we never again said, "But that's how we've always done it" or "That'll never work" or "Leave well enough alone."<br />
<br />
<b>Even if we're someone who benefits from the way things are.</b><br />
<br />
We could change the way we work and the way we live. We could change our government. We could change our healthcare system, our education system, our welfare system, our environment, our communities.<br />
<br />
Real change. Big change. <i>Change that comes from a place of love. </i><br />
<br />
We could decide to abolish the red tape that seems to make institutional change so very, very hard.<br />
<br />
We could do that.<br />
<br />
We could all be happier and healthier and safer. We could live better lives and help each other.<br />
<br />
If we got together, worked together, decided together. We could do it.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A revolution of love.</span><br />
<br />
It's been done before. When people left Europe to seek a better life in the Americas. When people gathered together to form the United States of America. When they looked at what worked and didn't work where they came from, they wrote a constitution, laying down what they believed to be a better foundation for a better place.<br />
<br />
But that was almost 250 years ago. The world has changed. We've learned so, so much since then. Maybe it's time to recreate the American dream. To build upon the foundation of 242 years ago. To take what we've learned here, and what others have learned elsewhere, and make big changes.<br />
<br />
<i>We could decide to accept all the people.</i> All the genders. All the races. All the religions. All the ethnicities. All the colors. All the sexual orientations. All the lifestyles.<br />
<br />
We could decide to no longer be fearful of that which is different from us. Instead, we could decide to see that we are all more alike than we are different. And that those differences are okay. Those differences don't make anyone better or worse. We are all equal. Different, but equal.<br />
<br />
It doesn't have to be us against them. <span style="font-size: large;">It can be us <i>with</i> them.</span> All of us. In this together. Living together. Striving together. Loving together. Joining together to the make the world a better place for all of us.<br />
<br />
When the world starts to feel like the beginning of a dystopian future novel, an optimist's reaction is to see the potential for the opening of a <span style="font-size: large;">utopian</span> future novel-- one in which the characters use the many wrongs to make a right, seeing the chaos as the impetus for building a better world.<br />
<br />
Food for thought.<br />
<br />
Until next time, start your own revolution of love. xo<br />
<br />
Namaste.<br />
Amy<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-43326486400448492082018-10-03T07:26:00.000-07:002018-10-03T07:26:13.970-07:00Vegetarian White Chili--Make it good and fill it with love.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogbLEHetHjYQ-bB_8Vkpomp8EXHe7NGFXiHKblayPFOJ1HPElza6X0D-oBK8IadqfazbJKezi4P2C0afGpojsk7XQIiMgG0uLI_PVlUaJmwZRPgwzXhFpLENG3K-qYiDBWXaivQSrEK8/s1600/IMG_0328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogbLEHetHjYQ-bB_8Vkpomp8EXHe7NGFXiHKblayPFOJ1HPElza6X0D-oBK8IadqfazbJKezi4P2C0afGpojsk7XQIiMgG0uLI_PVlUaJmwZRPgwzXhFpLENG3K-qYiDBWXaivQSrEK8/s640/IMG_0328.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I want to simply share a yummy fall recipe with you today, but I'm not sure I can <i>just</i> do that.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5v3SoYhACs5EghIRl9gEw0vu5rM78T1XGrvzkFFLFRk5FgwWvuBTs_Aid-ZpEkQr_d9MlnCdsgknLHFZKpnTdRMMAHjfZp6WRlhOo5j9BOlbAatOAC8ceknbDgiCyecJqTb75SFcJJDA/s1600/1112878_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="630" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5v3SoYhACs5EghIRl9gEw0vu5rM78T1XGrvzkFFLFRk5FgwWvuBTs_Aid-ZpEkQr_d9MlnCdsgknLHFZKpnTdRMMAHjfZp6WRlhOo5j9BOlbAatOAC8ceknbDgiCyecJqTb75SFcJJDA/s200/1112878_1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
I <i>am</i> going to share a recipe, which I highly recommend. I've actually had a great week of new recipes. This Vegetarian White Chili plus a delicious Vegetarian No-Beef Stew and a hearty Pasta with Ground Beef and a Thai-Peanut Chickpea Slaw and a Chicken and Broccoli Stir Fry. BUT, I'm feeling so raw and emotional lately, that I feel the need to do a little emoting here, too.<br />
<br />
<br />
Is it wrong to mix food and emotions? If so, I ain't right lately. Because Lord knows I've been stress eating like a boss this last week and I'm having trouble shifting gears back to healthy-girl. So, bear with me...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDIqPt51dj8miSvnLR3kMX8jlpAT5Omlt14VBIHWbfzr4Eng2jRvxKPb_Wl3Y0C9eY9sxbLmM70_hQQ2MNhCTAmbksa_uCbC9MBez5wN5tUl0gEaFdqCmpa7SJLbFTF0lQ-jpZDKdTu9M/s1600/funny-love-quotes-for-him.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDIqPt51dj8miSvnLR3kMX8jlpAT5Omlt14VBIHWbfzr4Eng2jRvxKPb_Wl3Y0C9eY9sxbLmM70_hQQ2MNhCTAmbksa_uCbC9MBez5wN5tUl0gEaFdqCmpa7SJLbFTF0lQ-jpZDKdTu9M/s200/funny-love-quotes-for-him.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />
The political and emotional climate in our country right now is so upsetting to me. I'm feeling a bit like a kid in tiny boat out in stormy waters. Genuinely, this all makes me feel very kid-like...naive and like my hopes for the world I want to live in are being dashed. This feels like a tragedy so I'm trying to follow the wisdom of Fred Rogers and look for the Helpers. I'm searching out stories of good and love and peace and, after a high-anxiety-filled week, I'm pulling out of the stream of hate that's oozing out of all the media and social media outlets.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_x7R1LC2ISZ-kAvA2iZguspILJPdrNbo2oSSZMu3hTRLD5O4st6dGqxCWJ2traZ94DVJPnl4dRR4lm0NiqObSANsLt_PpO-4gEYDeOsALJcobK7Qt9yF8daJXLxHULgfyBPJ90FAth6A/s1600/get.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_x7R1LC2ISZ-kAvA2iZguspILJPdrNbo2oSSZMu3hTRLD5O4st6dGqxCWJ2traZ94DVJPnl4dRR4lm0NiqObSANsLt_PpO-4gEYDeOsALJcobK7Qt9yF8daJXLxHULgfyBPJ90FAth6A/s200/get.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
I feel like, in my lifetime, I've never experienced such a divided America as what I've seen these last two years. Maybe it's been like this and I didn't notice it, but I don't think so. Because before the internet and social media and the 24-hour news cycle, I don't think it was possible. I long for us to use these tools for good, rather than evil, but right now so many are using them to spew hatred and divisiveness. What happened to empathy and tolerance and love thy neighbor and we're more alike than we are different? When did fury and hatred and rudeness become the norm? Why are people so self-righteous and entitled?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLF2T0YvLGfFVamstb6pt2lUgafJwKShV2QUgY9tifH7VLsAB_F1fUDLaUhbrTeA_eFLK1mBjcNtpmFqBD9PDhCnWy32WX0IF9L6LqOclvEg4As6ZpLSstY3iT4UCfIf7VnbKYLezibi8/s1600/i-love-u-meme-funny-17-h-pizza-pun-slice-kawaii-funny-italian-puns-heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="1000" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLF2T0YvLGfFVamstb6pt2lUgafJwKShV2QUgY9tifH7VLsAB_F1fUDLaUhbrTeA_eFLK1mBjcNtpmFqBD9PDhCnWy32WX0IF9L6LqOclvEg4As6ZpLSstY3iT4UCfIf7VnbKYLezibi8/s200/i-love-u-meme-funny-17-h-pizza-pun-slice-kawaii-funny-italian-puns-heart.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
When did we stop caring about the tragedies of our fellow men and women? When did others' pain stop impacting us? When did it no longer make us want to help them? When did money and power become more important than humanity? When did being right and getting what we want become a "by any means necessary" kind of thing? What happened to working together? To compromise?<br />
<br />
<br />
Like a child, I just don't understand. It hurts my heart. It makes my stomach clench and incites my anxiety. It makes me so sad.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3z9pVApnOo3b0kYXVe23Joie3WB6aN2yWS_tS2KDE9S-UJOBoIuJ5gIMoYwyowCEFa5mkYdnKgAzt0GSSdFMvEt9H2wplEOUOUGJXoBqT2bC2iAc9iqYo2sJqE9JP4pSLmiCd9Xcp1s/s1600/x354-q80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="354" data-original-width="354" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3z9pVApnOo3b0kYXVe23Joie3WB6aN2yWS_tS2KDE9S-UJOBoIuJ5gIMoYwyowCEFa5mkYdnKgAzt0GSSdFMvEt9H2wplEOUOUGJXoBqT2bC2iAc9iqYo2sJqE9JP4pSLmiCd9Xcp1s/s200/x354-q80.jpg" width="200" /></a>But I'm pulling myself out of that and focusing on being the light. Maybe not for THE world, but for MY world. A smile for each person I pass at the store. A kind word for the stranger at Panera. Mom-understanding for the woman next to me at the dance studio. Hugs for my kids. Kisses for my husband. Anything I can think of...spread love and joy, send the energy of peace out into the world.<br />
<br />
<br />
I don't know if this has any real impact on anyone or anything else, but it has an impact on me.<br />
<br />
<br />
And I will cook delicious food for my family, bake bread and cookies, and share them.<br />
<br />
<br />
Love and peace through food? Maybe...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Love Your Neighbor Vegetarian White Chili</span></u></b><br />
<br />
1 tbsp olive oil<br />
1 c. chopped bell pepper<br />
1 c. chopped onion<br />
2 tsp minced garlic<br />
1/2 - 1 diced jalapeño pepper (how much depends on the size of the pepper and how hot you like it)<br />
4-5 c. vegetable broth<br />
2 c. diced potatoes<br />
8 oz. cream cheese<br />
1/4 tsp ground cloves<br />
1 tbsp chili powder<br />
1 1/2 tbsp cumin<br />
2 tsp garlic powder<br />
1 tbsp maple syrup<br />
1/4 tsp black pepper<br />
1 tsp sea salt<br />
2, 15 oz. cans of white beans, drained and rinsed (I like great northern beans)<br />
1 c. frozen corn<br />
<br />
Heat oil in soup pot over medium heat. Add chopped onion, bell pepper, garlic, and jalapeño and cook for about 5 minutes. Add broth, potatoes, cream cheese, and all seasonings. Bring to a boil and let cook for about 10 minutes, until cream cheese has melted smooth and potatoes are cooked through. Add beans and corn and let cook for another 5 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning accordingly. Serve topped with shredded cheddar and warm bread or soft tortillas. (You could also add some chopped avocado.)<br />
<br />
Until next time, happy cooking...and show thy neighbor some love...possibly with food.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Make it good and fill it with love. :-)</span><br />
<br />
Namaste.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-54956781786031393642018-09-26T08:08:00.000-07:002018-09-26T08:08:46.112-07:00She let go.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Do you ever feel frazzled? Overwhelmed? Ready to burst from all the balls you're juggling, all the weight that's perched on your shoulders, all the expectations and judgments that feel like they're coming from other people, but really all come from your own thoughts? Maybe sometimes you swipe the thoughts and feelings aside and just keep going. But other times, the weight becomes too much, and you crack. Maybe you cry, maybe you yell, maybe you recede into yourself, maybe you eat, maybe you drink, maybe you have panic attacks, maybe you feel depressed. Whatever you do, you become suddenly aware of your tight grip on the wheel, the tension in your neck and shoulders, the roil of your stomach, the aching tiredness in your bones, and all the mistakes you're making.<br />
<br />
If you have ever felt like this, well, this post is for you. Read on.<br />
<br />
So, I use the meditation app Insight Timer pretty much everyday. (I highly recommend it.) I listen to guided meditations and use the meditation music for yoga and relaxation; and we often use the app at bedtime with the kids to help them settle down for sleep.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, when I happened to be going through a particularly rough patch of anxiety, I came across this audio of John Siddique reading a poem on Insight Timer. The poem, She Let Go, is by Safire Rose and I've typed it out for you to read below. But John Siddique's reading of it is just lovely. You can find it on Insight Timer, or you can listen to it on YouTube. Humor me and click on the link here to listen to it right now. Close your eyes, and just listen: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MBCfAbZZjqY" target="_blank">She Let Go by Safire Rose; Read by John Siddique</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>She Let Go</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>by Safire Rose</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of the fear.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of the judgments.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of the committee of indecision within her.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of all the 'right' reasons.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't ask anyone for advice.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't read a book on how to let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't search the scriptures.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She just let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of all of the memories that held her back.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't promise to let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't journal about it.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She just let go. She didn't analyze whether she should let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't call the prayer line.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She didn't utter one word.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She just let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>No one was around when it happened.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There was no applause or congratulations.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>No one thanked her or praised her.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>No one noticed a thing.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There was no effort.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There was no struggle</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>It wasn't good and it wasn't bad.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>It was what it was, and it is just that.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>In the space of letting go, she let it all be.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>A small smile came over her face.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>A light breeze blew through her.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And the sun and the moon shone forevermore...</i></div>
<br />
I cannot tell you how deeply these words spoke to me that day (and now). I listened to the short recording over and over again, trying to absorb the words like a tree soaking water up from the ground. I tried to make them a part of me. I imagined myself that leaf, letting go and floating gently on the breeze. No more white-knuckled grip on the reins of the illusion of control. And in that moment, I let go.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVmW2kPSgutTOwlMKmWCeVNPMmhp2wD0GyLTX52F3rP3FkvoIfWsJdbGL9FHXzOOHDA01bnedYSGJ9gc68Q-oZZ7owHNsLegEps7pZzKeQTSeo6cQ0SZ9B7Yyh5Zw4fcFhowtGnSi9f8/s1600/IMG_0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVmW2kPSgutTOwlMKmWCeVNPMmhp2wD0GyLTX52F3rP3FkvoIfWsJdbGL9FHXzOOHDA01bnedYSGJ9gc68Q-oZZ7owHNsLegEps7pZzKeQTSeo6cQ0SZ9B7Yyh5Zw4fcFhowtGnSi9f8/s320/IMG_0583.JPG" width="240" /></a>Letting go didn't stick though. Eventually I grabbed the reins again. Eventually I piled my shoulders high with to-do's and guilt and responsibility. But, then I let go again. And again. And again. And I keep letting go. Each day. Multiple times a day. I stop and close my eyes and imagine myself as that leaf once more. I loosen my grip and then I let go.<br />
<br />
Here's what I've learned, and relearned, and relearned again, over the last few weeks. Letting go is a daily practice. Maybe an hourly one. Letting go isn't done once, achieved, and moved on from (as much as I wish it was). It is a practice.<br />
<br />
As I get older and wiser, I'm learning that most of the things I learned to do in my twenties and thirties to be a high-functioning and successful adult are actually just anxiety management techniques (and not necessarily healthy ones) linked directly to perfectionism. The more aware of this I become, the more crazy I feel. But it is what it is.<br />
<br />
Some of these methods I try to lessen and manage; some I'm trying to get rid of completely. Who knows how successful I'll be. What I do know, what my body has been telling me over the last year, is that I can't keep going the way I've been going. It's time to lighten my load. And so...<br />
<br />
She let go.<br />
<br />
Until next time, don't consider it, or weigh your options, or talk it over with your friends, just let go.<br />
<br />
Namaste.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-73077029179549837422018-09-20T06:40:00.001-07:002018-09-20T06:40:47.817-07:00Books Love!-- The Illuminae Files Trilogy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04v6U1QtanAcyYY2WzrQrCVRAR0feCzMfL8L4Y41co3Rh60OHC9ocjOomCZFOh05HZSeIkKBwPks09VFIi1T_auZM8S01QD3fD_zpwgioEalFS_5ftY60jawhVftQeQyfnrz1D8re3E0/s1600/fullsizeoutput_579f.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04v6U1QtanAcyYY2WzrQrCVRAR0feCzMfL8L4Y41co3Rh60OHC9ocjOomCZFOh05HZSeIkKBwPks09VFIi1T_auZM8S01QD3fD_zpwgioEalFS_5ftY60jawhVftQeQyfnrz1D8re3E0/s640/fullsizeoutput_579f.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
My dear, sweet bibliophiles, I bring you good news of fun adventures in outer space!<br />
<br />
A few months back, a bookseller in the small, independent bookstore, The Country Bookshop, in Southern Pines, NC, recommended a YA book called <i>Illuminae</i>. And, as I am want to do when other book lovers recommend books to me, I bought it, without reading the blurb or first page or anything else.<br />
<br />
Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago...I picked it up. When I finished it just a few days later, I put book two in the series on hold at the library. (Moving quickly on to book two, or moving on to it at all, is not a given with me when it comes to trilogies/series. I have read A LOT of book ones and never moved on to book two--even when book one was enjoyable.)<br />
<br />
I devoured book two, <i>Gemina</i>, in a few days. This time, I put book three, <i>Obsidio</i>, on hold before I even finished book two. I will be picking that one up at the library today!<br />
<br />
So, this begs the question, why are these books so compelling?<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDxQBWxZm_P2gxlh4TiFKjcr3FJyNBMrXSpsYCBIPfRu27coutGhZEAlUK0U-lTggae-H4SDStJO-A0TjUkUDcDf88mv4M4iUqSoPwpGJ20j74GzNQflq7QGGGIPpjxKGZEwYTQRMbr0/s1600/fullsizeoutput_57a5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDxQBWxZm_P2gxlh4TiFKjcr3FJyNBMrXSpsYCBIPfRu27coutGhZEAlUK0U-lTggae-H4SDStJO-A0TjUkUDcDf88mv4M4iUqSoPwpGJ20j74GzNQflq7QGGGIPpjxKGZEwYTQRMbr0/s200/fullsizeoutput_57a5.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
Hmmm...I think the authors, Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff, do an excellent job of balancing plot, characters, action, and unique story delivery, and this delivers a delightful and somewhat obsession-inducing reading experience.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxkfeuMdSkZtqfdpvFOoIDl5BkwOh7vNg-SC2ILsegbwfJCApBMf38BaAxF6c7okReegwFrmu0PHpPYBAx5uOuT0ecKAb66SRRGZSxcv6A-thBqYKKJDU3Dljax5AyKz9QuOmP52eQ-Q/s1600/fullsizeoutput_57a0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxkfeuMdSkZtqfdpvFOoIDl5BkwOh7vNg-SC2ILsegbwfJCApBMf38BaAxF6c7okReegwFrmu0PHpPYBAx5uOuT0ecKAb66SRRGZSxcv6A-thBqYKKJDU3Dljax5AyKz9QuOmP52eQ-Q/s200/fullsizeoutput_57a0.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
Here's what they give you:<br />
- A fast-paced plot, filled with twists and turns, set in an interesting and well-developed future world<br />
- Interesting, multi-layered main characters that you will fall in love with and cheer for (even if you may not think you're going to love them at the beginning)<br />
- Lots and lots of action...like, lots of it<br />
- Very thick books that are faster to read that you might expect because they deliver the story through a wide variety of techniques: instant messaging and email transcripts, photocopied files, computer syntax, journal entries, sketches, etc. which makes for an interesting and interactive reading experience (This could have been kitschy, but is not, in this case, because the rest of the book (plot, characters, etc.) delivers; I'm sharing a few photos to give you an idea of what the reading experience is like...)<br />
<br />
Which all means that you will not get bored with these books!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3UzqvOrxa1sYXU_o_J4UTNrPuB1AZ9z_60hVrFlHtRx9qE2Sr_NZFwvSs3HZdhhC3ZnZ-GnaIR0rAAWtKvgt0jiNoJyQXDGQUmYlQXJf9ZbtFT4n5imqlZl1Q27nhRzuwZSgy9wT82k/s1600/fullsizeoutput_57a1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3UzqvOrxa1sYXU_o_J4UTNrPuB1AZ9z_60hVrFlHtRx9qE2Sr_NZFwvSs3HZdhhC3ZnZ-GnaIR0rAAWtKvgt0jiNoJyQXDGQUmYlQXJf9ZbtFT4n5imqlZl1Q27nhRzuwZSgy9wT82k/s200/fullsizeoutput_57a1.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
Here's something else they give--which so many trilogy writers do not: three complete stories with a beginning, middle, and end that tie together without leaving the reader so cliff-hung at the end of books one and two that the experience is unsatisfying. That is to say, that while they do make you want to come back for more and find out everything, they still provide a satisfying conclusion at the end of books one and two. <span style="font-size: large;">This makes me smile!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxGKY08bX6JLSq0CFanlaKKI47niNoc8TJ_MB3ghmKuvT1ZppTkDpgAIC7vOy-GC_qtF5ry-JRzGLiwTSeh_GHoo7gxjHwOQSldPHvUj9e6tKNSbzznp6-Bd4VQVAh6kC2otOcBRA1cs/s1600/fullsizeoutput_57a2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxGKY08bX6JLSq0CFanlaKKI47niNoc8TJ_MB3ghmKuvT1ZppTkDpgAIC7vOy-GC_qtF5ry-JRzGLiwTSeh_GHoo7gxjHwOQSldPHvUj9e6tKNSbzznp6-Bd4VQVAh6kC2otOcBRA1cs/s200/fullsizeoutput_57a2.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
So, who wants to read this? If you like YA (i.e. books where the main characters are teens); if you like speculative fiction, science fiction, fantasy, or dystopian future stories; if you liked books like <i>The Hunger Games, Legend, Divergent, Uglies, Red Queen</i>, etc.; or, frankly, if you like a fun, fast-paced, action-packed read...then you may want to give<i> The Illuminae Files</i> a try.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiue_kZXyZmfMzGDZlW95UAE95Bx551-1oFodfEGokmkbtDwGi4P-GJTXx6YGi2mAQ89eoMsX-KPwW5Gx6eCj_MVDdvj6_VnPDjsIeMQZe20c9vZvxPUwrg1IEBObxjj3YvkubvO5Rgq9k/s1600/fullsizeoutput_57a4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiue_kZXyZmfMzGDZlW95UAE95Bx551-1oFodfEGokmkbtDwGi4P-GJTXx6YGi2mAQ89eoMsX-KPwW5Gx6eCj_MVDdvj6_VnPDjsIeMQZe20c9vZvxPUwrg1IEBObxjj3YvkubvO5Rgq9k/s200/fullsizeoutput_57a4.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
I really enjoyed <i>Illuminae</i> and <i>Gemina</i>, and I can't wait to read <i>Obsidio</i>. Kudos to Kaufman and Kristoff for creating such fun books!<br />
<br />
Until next time, happy reading!<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-11274305483296182602018-09-14T12:00:00.000-07:002018-09-14T12:00:49.972-07:00Let's Talk Periods (and Period Underwear, which is kinda a Game-Changer!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZxQ0ghuH6mFaNZ02S-0QeK0q-4ZHuUxYYKkbmyp08D5SntftyeknI_b9W8MafMH_UAL0bB0KK6jXZeELZR0RLJLCBCUfR4wLbZJR-g9fPyfJ-7VVQ-2OJHqGW9r1qDmN1uFik2GCqr0/s1600/IMG_0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZxQ0ghuH6mFaNZ02S-0QeK0q-4ZHuUxYYKkbmyp08D5SntftyeknI_b9W8MafMH_UAL0bB0KK6jXZeELZR0RLJLCBCUfR4wLbZJR-g9fPyfJ-7VVQ-2OJHqGW9r1qDmN1uFik2GCqr0/s400/IMG_0277.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Okay, so this is a strangely taboo topic that I think we all need to get over our shyness and, well, weirdness about: <span style="font-size: large;">Periods.</span><br />
<br />
Periods are this totally natural and actually wonderful body process that I think we look upon in entirely the wrong way. (With shame and disgust and disdain and annoyance.) And, honestly, I think it's mainly because it doesn't happen to men.<br />
<br />
I'm serious.<br />
<br />
Because we live in a patriarchal society, men's bodies and way of being in the world dominates our culture in every way. And because they don't menstruate (or have babies or lactate) these things have become at best, secretive, behind the scenes, and often misunderstood, and, at worst, shamed and regulated.<br />
<br />
I remember being mortified to buy a box of tampons or pads when I was younger...like, actually, ashamed in the drug store! I might complain to my friends about having cramps, but the details and intricacies of going through menstruation was never really talked about. Having your period was something to hide. To deal with on your own as quietly and discreetly as possible. Who hasn't palmed a tampon on the way to a public restroom? Or whispered the red-faced, desperate plea to a friend or coworker, "Do you have a tampon?"<br />
<br />
And men? Forget about it. Ask most any non-doctor man out there about menstruation and not only will he get uncomfortable, but he also probably won't even be able to explain it because he doesn't really understand it (sadly, this is likely true even if he's married and has been through childbirth with his wife).<br />
<br />
So let's talk about it. Let's talk about it here. And with our friends. And our husbands. And online. And with our kids. Let's de-stigmatize it. Get rid of our Puritan body shame. We all pee. We all poop. And if we're a post-puberty, premenopausal woman, we have a period. There, I said it. The secret is out. We don't need to be ashamed or embarrassed of our bodies and what they do.<br />
<br />
Stop for a moment and marvel at the amazing work of art that the human body is...what it can do, how it functions, the ways in which it has evolved...it's mind blowing! Think about what menstruation really is, what it does, what it allows for. I didn't really get this until I actually grew a real human in my uterus. Gals, menstruation is AMAZING! It's not dirty or gross, it is the giver of life.<br />
<br />
And, now that we're on the topic, let's talk about period products.<br />
<br />
I got my first period when I was 13. I remember my mom being excited about it and me being an uncomfortable combination of proud and mortified. I used pads exclusively for the first year or so. But when I was on the swim team, I was forced to try tampons. It was awful in the beginning. I don't think I was putting them in quite right and they were so painful! I couldn't wait until the end of swim practice each time so I could get it out and just wear a pad.<br />
<br />
But eventually, over time, I figure it out and tampons became my product of choice during my period. (Tampax tampons only. No Platex or OB for me. And when they switched to the plastic applicator, I stayed old school cardboard, thank you very much.) I was a Super and Super Plus girl, which was Super Annoying. I had heavy periods and, before and after my days of birth control pills, some SERIOUS MENSTRUAL CRAMPS!<br />
<br />
I remember, after giving birth to my children, having to wear those ridiculous hospital pads (mommy diapers) and feeling bizarre and uncomfortable, thinking, how did I ever wear pads! Fast forward to the last couple of years and my body starts to ready itself for the next phase of what we never talk about: Menopause! I discovered this thing called Perimenopause. (Yes, it's a real thing.) Which is the time leading up to actual menopause during which your body fucks with you as though you're going through reverse puberty (which, I suppose, you kind of are).<br />
<br />
Anyway, my body suddenly couldn't handle the pill anymore and I was back to crazy heavy periods and cramps. Cramps that actually made it uncomfortable to use tampons for a day or two (they seemed to make the cramping more severe). And I was all, WTF, I don't want to wear pads. Ugh!<br />
<br />
Enter: Thinx, aka, Period Underwear.<br />
<br />
I'd seen ads all over Facebook and the like and I thought, maybe I should try this. Maybe it would help on the days I can't use tampons. So I, kinda reluctantly, ordered a pair. And then, kinda worriedly, tried them during my next period.<br />
<br />
Revelation!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_QZVX-mYSxe0lTxqoKP21aB_sBquXK9nDAimnVaQWeXuMtDoBiDgU6zB7PhA6wxgZB9yH19WLM8ia1GSPPhRACQYJn-FJeXJk97hfcmUNz1m3LgyQh5e3aTqjmjvTAgLJTk-CUzqudQ/s1600/IMG_0276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_QZVX-mYSxe0lTxqoKP21aB_sBquXK9nDAimnVaQWeXuMtDoBiDgU6zB7PhA6wxgZB9yH19WLM8ia1GSPPhRACQYJn-FJeXJk97hfcmUNz1m3LgyQh5e3aTqjmjvTAgLJTk-CUzqudQ/s320/IMG_0276.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
I now own 5 pair of Thinx period underwear and I no longer regularly buy tampons or pads. I have tampons in the cabinet under my bathroom sink, (Natural ones, now, after reading some articles about additives to tampons. Eesh.) I have used them when going swimming and on a few heavy period days when I was away from home, just for my own peace of mind. But, otherwise, nada.<br />
<br />
So here's my take on these Thinx. First of all, they are comfortable, stay put, and fit well. I own the classic hiphuggers, in black. Because that's how I roll. Second, I have never had a leak, not even at night. I also have never again had the moment when you realize your tampon is leaking and you don't have another one in your purse. (I do still keep a tampon in my purse in case my period starts unexpectedly when I'm away from home.)<br />
<br />
It is an adjustment, though. The first couple of months using period underwear, I was on edge most of the time worrying it was going to leak. I would obsessively go to the bathroom to "check on things." But this eventually subsided. It was also an adjustment getting used to the sensation of having a period without a tampon to keep things from flowing out. Super weird, at first! But I'm mostly used to that now, too.<br />
<br />
So, how does it all work? I have no idea. I'm relatively certain it's magic. But here's what I know. I change my period underwear once per day. Meaning I usually wear one pair for day and a new pair for night. When you take them off, you rinse them in the laundry sink-- way less gross than you imagine-- then you throw them in a lingerie bag and wash them with the regular laundry (yes, it's fine), and hang them to dry. Then they're ready to go again. Simple. And I have yet to have any problems with odor of any kind.<br />
<br />
You can learn more about Thinx and try them yourself at shethinx.com. Click on this link for $10 off your first Thinx purchase: <a href="http://ref.thinxify.me/khgzA" target="_blank">http://ref.thinxify.me/khgzA</a>.<br />
<br />
I know there are other brands of period underwear out there and they may be excellent as well, but I've only used Thinx, so it's the only brand I can speak to right now.<br />
<br />
So why did I write this post? Why broach the subject with all of you instead of just keeping my small victory to myself? Because when I brought the topic up at a recent social gathering of woman, folks were shocked by the idea. So I thought I should share. Plus, my daughter turns ten in a few months and I'm realizing that she's really growing up and I want her to be more comfortable with and positive about her period when it comes.<br />
<br />
And there you have it. Periods are great. And so are Thinx period underwear. ;-)<br />
<br />
Until next time, go with the flow, dear ones.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134017018437917927.post-27408561484404890912018-09-04T10:35:00.001-07:002018-09-04T10:35:29.154-07:00Back To School Philosophizing <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bldmj7xIDiuk6GQbb3979C9Sc9JwAFMaGFbsGVgnqOz4ERiTMJnBhOady-1eK_o0Hp0P3sEnqPkDA6vyrg17DlfgeEiHhq8pAZf6MGHgLu014qsXXBMw8STxetpRXXxRgJFNjU6rKtQ/s1600/IMG_0574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bldmj7xIDiuk6GQbb3979C9Sc9JwAFMaGFbsGVgnqOz4ERiTMJnBhOady-1eK_o0Hp0P3sEnqPkDA6vyrg17DlfgeEiHhq8pAZf6MGHgLu014qsXXBMw8STxetpRXXxRgJFNjU6rKtQ/s640/IMG_0574.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I sent my kids back to school last week with mixed emotions.<br />
<br />
For me, not them; they were super excited.<br />
<br />
I am, of course, excited for them to start a new adventure. And I am filled with hope that this will be a great year, full of new learning and cool experiences, and fun and friendship, and lots of amazing growth. I love watching my kids grow. And while part of me misses aspects of the younger years (you know, the sweet stuff), mostly I really like the stage were in right now (except the sass...and the not listening...but I digress).<br />
<br />
In the past, I've been so excited for school to start come August. My introverted, quiet-loving self is usually in need of breathing space after two months of nonstop kids. But as they get older and more independent, I find that there are only certain days when I feel that way. Now that they run out and play with friends for hours on their own, I get a little of that breathing space even when they're around all day. Some days they drive me nuts-- I mean, they are SO loud; but mostly, I think they're cool and sweet and funny and I like having them around.<br />
<br />
Now we're starting back with routine and schedules. Usually I like this, crave it even, at least for the first half of the school year. But this year, not so much. I like our loose and free days. We're all better without the rushing. BUT, I know I need the schedule and routine for writing. I've hardly written all summer. I blame that on the kids being home, but I think it had more to do with me being lazy. Or in need of a break.<br />
<br />
So, as the kids start back to a new routine of school and activities, and I start back into a new routine of writing and painting and who knows what else, I find myself on this continuing arc of change.<br />
<br />
I know change is nothing new. Change is a constant, a sure thing, like death and taxes. But sometimes I hardly notice that it's happening; and other times, like now, I feel disoriented by what feels like tectonic shifts.<br />
<br />
Right now I feel like everything is changing, in and around me. None of the changes are inherently bad, but they are all unnerving. I feel unsteady. Like I'm walking in one of those carnival fun houses where the floor shifts and tilts. I can't quite get my feet under me. And I have to stop, almost constantly, and remind myself that this is how it's supposed to be.<br />
<br />
Being human is riding the wave of the human experience. The ups. The downs. The ebbs. The flows. The steady. The rocky. It's all how it's supposed to be. Smiles and tears. Fire and calm.<br />
<br />
It's all how it's supposed to be.<br />
<br />
When we accept reality, we see that life is not good or bad. Life is.<br />
<br />
Just is.<br />
<br />
When we can embrace the Is...of life, of ourselves, of others...we find ourselves in a wash of peace and contentment and joy. And that's what I'm aiming for.<br />
<br />
So I sit at my dining room table, fingers on the keyboard, sun shining through the front window, the only sound the ticking of the clock, and I embrace the Is.<br />
<br />
My kids are growing and changing and back at school. I am growing and changing and back at work. My life is growing and changing...and the ground I stand on is shifting and tilting, rocky and unsteady. But still I walk. Still I climb.<br />
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For a moment, I stop searching for the answers. Instead, I close my eyes and feel the sun on my face and just be.<br />
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Until next time, embrace the Is.<br />
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Namaste.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0