Don't Get Your Tinsel in a Tangle

 November 1 is like four days away. say what? november? 

chances of snow...

migrating groups of people moving to & fro, 

over mountains - through woods...

fowl, and expensive cheese...

marshmallows on casseroles, passing as a vegetable side-dish...

however you celebrate, 

the holiday season is patiently waiting for the mass-confusion of halloween to end,

so that it may show up, 

clean house,

start a warm fire,

and settle in for the foreseeable future.  

 

i don't get real caught-up in the holiday drama. i can't. it would make my head explode.

i haven't seen the inside of a mall at holiday-time since i was pregnant with my first.

shopping isn't my thing. 

amazon is my thing. and the local specialty shop down the street.

but we don't stand in line for Santa.

we DO bake for our neighbors, 

and one afternoon in early December we pile everything into a basket 

and go house to house.

we don't travel any further than our family room on Christmas morning.

we've been known to take a spin through the neighborhood to see the holiday lights -

hot cocoa, blankets, carols on the radio, and 

the obligatory lecture about consumerism and electricity waste.

i love this time of year. 

it's magical.

with the twinkling lights.

the damp, cold nights. 

small trees in the kids' rooms.

i'm excited. 

 

 this year, our holiday season will start with a little 'behind the scenes' gift for me. 

starting next week, i'll be participating in the highly anticipated holiday e-lab, hosted by Amy over at mamascout.

 i've participated in a handful of Amy's courses, including A Book About Me. 

the A Book About Me course, in particular, was a turning point for me. 

picture this -

 a group of saged women,

deeply supportive, 

smart, 

wise,

creative,

empowered,

and connected.

all showing up to bear witness to one another, 

and our respective processes.

i've made friendships through this course that have taken me into places of my soul i never really knew were there. it's a good thing. a really good thing.  

the holiday e-lab promises to be another journey of connection. 

of opening up. bearing witness.

 reflecting on what is working, what isn't, and how we can EACH manifest the 

time, 

energy,

space,

spirit, and

dreams

we desire for this particularly 'charged' time of year.

here's how Amy describes it...

What is this?  Daily emails and creative challenges, Facebook camaraderie, and support from me will help you set intentions for what you hope to create this holiday season. We will cover ways to prepare for the holidays, ideas for clearing space (mental and physical), simplifying gift giving, dealing with family struggles, honoring nature through solstice celebrations, ways to give back to your community and more.  The key is to think, write and communicate with others NOW so you can have the calm, restorative, creative season YOU want.

 to say i'd pretty much follow Amy into any course, any process, 

any experience she puts forth, 

is an understatement. 

i recently took her dream course. i went into that experience pretty aloof;

i just wanted to be among the caliber of women Amy draws with these courses. 

in true form, i walked away from that course a changed person, 

now better able to articulate and envision my dreams.

and to see a truth --  many of my dreams are manifesting and 

showing themselves in my life, as i write this.

 i hold close to heart the support and clarity Amy offers during her courses. 

i am a better mother, a better wife, and a better Self, 

simply by doing these interesting and thought-provoking courses.

and this holiday lab just looks fun!

Amy is only hosting her holiday e-lab once this year. and it starts on November 4.

i'll see you there.

 

 

 

and if you haven't ever visited the mamascout blog,

may i suggest you do so.

homeschooler.

unschooler.

super-cool'er.

mama power!!

a good mama bringing out the good

in other mamas!

 

The Good Life 10.27.2013

the good life is about being grateful

  being present in the little things

remembering to breathe

resting in the seat of joy

it's Fall!

leaves are turning. mornings are CRISP COLD!

we're nearing the turn from hours upon hours outside, 

to hours - upon hours - inside.

it's an adjustment for all of us, and one that i only just realized.

Fall - the season of transition.

the season before the dormant.

the season to reflect on the bounty,

and prepare for the barren.

i love this season. 

through the death of life, 

comes the beauty in life. 

mother nature is so damn smart.

these four

these are the people that fill my day,

my hours, 

my minutes...

my moments.

these four are the reason there is little time for writing.

no time for writing, 

but abundant time for 

dreaming,

being,

learning,

listening,

celebrating,

loving.

living.

through them, i will live the life of my dreams...

dreams that have little to do with money,

or profession,

or location, 

or recognition.

  

 this is me, dreaming

WHAT IF?

yeh, what if?

what if it all turns to shit?

what if all my fears come true?

what if the world is that dark, scary, irrational 

pit of doom most of media wants me to believe?

what if?

or..... or..... or..... or.....

what if it turns out beautifully?

what if my fears can be given some space - 

a breath,

a thank you,

a 'don't worry - i've got this...'

what if i just don't listen to the 'pit of doom' coverage?

am i naive?

am i irresponsible?

is my head in the sand?

perhaps. 

i'll just be here...

giving some space to my worries,

and witnessing them 

as they blur

into simple flashes of color and thoughts,

 as i dream of a life...

a life i am living.

  

this is how we do it

forget the lists.

forget the formality.

forget the measurements.

remember the fun.

remember the creativity.

remember the learning.

the learning

that happens

when you 

just live. 

thank you, mother nature

found on an old tree

lining the road to the farm.

a rolling road

that always gets the kids giggling when their bellies

head into their throats. 

most days i drive a little fast

on this back country road.

until now.

until we saw this.

this lichen.

it's magnificent.

strong.

sturdy.

as big as dinner plate, if not bigger.

amazing how it can be so strong,

yet so far out from the tree.

this lichen,

just reaching.

growing outward.

this is how i feel some days.

just reaching.
growing outward.

a solid connection to a grounded life,

but reaching just beyond...

 i love this lichen.

the small, in the big
someone recently reframed my thinking.
when things feel HUGE, find respite in the small.
when you are weighed down by the small,
find respite in the big.
the yin & yang of life.
i love seeing this in my day.
he may not be reading,
but he just offered his sister his love, and his hand.
she may still panic,
but she just told me exactly what i can do to ease her worries.
life goes fast.
life plays fierce - all for keeps!
some days you have to focus on that one small spot,
to regain your balance.
other days,
you simply have to throw yourself off that edge,
blissfully filled with the unknown.
these small, warm lights 

offering a gentle start...

to another big day.

the small, in my big.

 

it's a good life, in these moments.
in trying to understand myself,
while understanding my kids.
in trying to create a life for my family,
while making sure there is play-dough and paint.
in trying to breath,
while having my breath taken away.
such a lucky life.
it's a good life.

The Good Life 7.3.2013

the good life is about being grateful

  being present in the little things

remembering to breathe

seeing joy

it's firework season. explosions and fire usually drive me inside, 
along with the dog.
to temper the anxiety-ridden explosions, i'm listening to soul-fueling music.
and writing. and dreaming. and believing that i have it good. 
really, really good.



 'with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair'
we just returned from a week at the beach. 
a week of sun. 
a week of us.
a week of raw foods for dinner.
a week of peeling skin,
and dreams thought up on the beach.
six days of holes.
six days of running across hot sand, 
while precariously holding beach chairs, an umbrella, towels, shovels, 
and the child too tired to make it home, across that hot sand.
a week of using our stomachs, and the sun, as indication of hunger, and time.
a week together. 
a week apart.
a week of exploration.
a week to watch these children fall in love,
as i did so many years ago, 
and again during this week away.
away, yet deeply connected. 
connected to the smallness of life.
the largeness of nature.
the pattern of the waves.
the pull of the moon.
the beating of their graceful hearts.
 and the flowers in their hair.

 

 'lend me your eyes I can change what you see'

perspective.

it's a valuable thing.

perspective and trust,

now THAT'S a powerful partnership.

belief that i can have a life of joy, 

and time, and peace, and goodness.

a life seen not through rose-colored glasses,

but through a quiet mind,

a connected heart,

and a centered soul.

we can have it all,

even in the mess.

it's before us to hold.

we just have to see it.

and believe it.

  

'have no fear for giving in, have no fear for giving over'

 i can't help but go breathless at the sunrise.

i used to yearn for the sun to rise.

after a long night of nursing,

or teething,

or eczema,

or night-terrors,

or the standard host of needs in the night,

of my little people.

vacation allows for rest, 

even for the grown-ups.

i only woke for one sunrise during the vacation.

part of me was disappointed.

i crave a beach sunrise.

but in the end, 

i gave in to rest.

i gave over to indulgence.

this rise was offered on our last day. 

i was feeling well-rested by then,

and enjoyed indulging in its beauty,

its peace,its patience,

its slow, yet deliberate, pace.

the generosity of the sunrise,

always returning,

morning to morning,

in its splendor.

giving...to those who take the time to receive.

 'for it's only one life that we've got, and ain't it enough'

this is what i love about life.

the daily reminders that this is it.

the passing of hours,

the flipping of calendars,

the inches of our children, marking up the wall.

we do not get these days back.

it's today. this hour. this minute. this breath.

fill it will intention.

embrace it with abandon.

love it with fierce.

trust in it with wholeness.

and live it with spirit.

it's only one life that we've got.

it's a good life in all the middle moments...

between the sand in your underwear and those tender, sun-burned spots.

between the overnight hauls down the interstate, and

the stale coffee from the truck-stop.

the good life lives in those moments in-between -

'we're here! we made it to the beach!'

and

'oh my word, mommy. THAT is the most beautiful sight i've ever seen.'

it's a good life.

The Good Life 6.19.13

the good life is about being grateful

  being present in the little things

remembering to breathe

seeing joy

stomach flu

 i've always been terrified of the flu.

that image from Stand By Me 

(when everyone is puking after the pie eating contest,)

this is the image that comes to mind.

four kids.

four buckets.

spewing stomach content. 

blech.

and then me, getting the pukes.

i'm breaking into a cold sweat just thinking about it.

we got the stomach flu this year. 

four kids.

FOUR WEEKS.

it was a long month.

but in the mess, i gained some confidence.

i have a pretty good routine down,

and it involves a shit-ton of Clorox.

(graphic lower GI pun intended.)

Drew

Calum

confidence

it's a dance, of sorts.

nurturing the confidence of children,

while getting out of their way.

i believe children are inherently confident,

clouded only by the fear of adults.

she wanted to make an apron for her doll.

 i'm so proud of myself for not getting in her way.

grateful for the awareness, in the moment, to quiet my need for:

order,

a plan,

agreement,

and a clean floor.

she wanted to make an apron for her doll. 

so, she did.

 breathless leaps of faith

if you're lucky, you've experienced these.

most of mine have come on the heels of my children,

but there are a few that came before.

that moment when i'm infinitely aware that i am terrified,

yet life is happening and it is GOOD! 

that moment when all i can do is watch, and breath. 

i am still.

i am quiet.

i am frozen in thought.

i am alive.

i am engaged.

and in the fear, comes the brave. 

because sometimes, being still and present is the bravest thing i can do.

Calum

Ella

thirteen years

it's been thirteen years since:

our marriage-celebrant dropped the f-bomb during our vows, while

we stood by a pond brimming with turtles, as

it rained a soft, gentle Spring storm, and

we drove off for the next 13 years.

it's been 13 years of growing, and

laughing, and

loving, and 

learning, and

creating a life that serves us both, so

we can serve our children.

it's a good life in all the middle moments...

between the vomits and the cleaning-up.

between the overnight hauls when someone is hurting, and

the coffee on the front porch while it rains, before the house starts to stir.

and the drifting weeks in between when i'm yearning to write but 

life has a different priority.

the good life lives in those moments between -

'i'm sorry you didn't get any sleep last night mommy...'

and

'that's ok, love. i'd rather spend the night holding you...'

it's a good life.