when i walked up to my grandmother and stared at her, willing her to breathe, i felt my heart break. and in that moment, i thought "this it what it means to love." holding ellie tonight, watching her chest move up and down, knowing that a surgeon i have not yet met will more than likely be cracking that chest open in a few weeks, that phrase kept turning around in my mine. the idea of a piece of one's heart breaking off being what forces us to understand what love really is. i have been singing that last few lines of "all you need is love" over and over these last few weeks. you know that part when paul, or is it john, repeats "love is all you need. love is all you need." and someone sings, "she loves you, yeah yeah yeah..." and i think there is a yee-haw involved. i have always loved that last part as it feels so impromptu, like the boys were just having fun. yes. love is all you need. and i don't mean it in a simple rose-colored glasses way. no. i mean it in a standing in front of your grandmother in a funeral home and realizing she loved you and you loved her in an imperfect beautiful and i am going to miss you every day for the rest of your life sort of way. i mean it in a holding the space for a friend while she shares her story and then saying, "what do you need in this moment?" sort of way. i mean it in a reaching for your partner's hand in the middle of the night after you had such a horrible fight sort of way. i mean it in a watching your child breathe and knowing you don't want to be anywhere else sort of way. i mean it in a hearing your golden retriever sigh after a long good day of simple living sort of way. i mean it in a standing face to face with yourself and looking in the mirror and choosing a soft gaze of acceptance sort of way. yes. as you walk on your path and hope upon hope that you will find your way. as you stand in this moment and think about what you know to be true. i believe that the one thing we need to carry in the pocket of our heart is the trust and faith and grace that is love. the guts of life. yes. this is what love is. love for ourself. for the ones who rest inside our hearts. for all of it.

*****

for the last few days, i have been trying out 750words.com. a space to write "morning pages" of sorts. i kind of love it. the above was a paragraph of freewriting i did tonight and i decided to just share it here. because it is how things are in this moment in my corner of it all...

earlier this month, my dad married a woman i have come to call my friend over the last few years. while we were in the PICU in July, it became clear that because of ellie's health, we would be unable to travel to their wedding. on one of those PICU days, i answered my dad's question of "how are you doing?" with "after all this is over, i might have to take a trip to the ocean and stand in front of the waves, before everyone else is awake, and yell how i am really feeling out into the universe." the next day, he called and said that he and anne had talked and they were wondering if they could come out the week after the wedding and take us all to the ocean (if ellie was able to take a shorter trip).

and to the ocean we went....

today, i am sharing a few of my favorite photos that really represent the goodness of our trip to me.

this little moving pictures poetry film is a companion to "i come to the water" (which you can watch here). 

i have been greatly inspired by my friend vivienne when taking self-portraits lately. i am feeling a stirring, a healing within as i set the timer and find my way to illustrating all the emotion held inside through moments captured with my camera's lens.

all footage and self-portraits were taken in the Pacific Northwest woods near Frog Creek Lodge, the location of Reveal, the Fall 2010 Be Present Retreat. a few spots are still available. give yourself the gift of joining us on the adventure of revealing where we are on our paths...

you have cocooned us with your words, silence, love, notes, burning candles, prayers, hand holding.

you have pushed me to know: i am heard. i am seen. (dare i own it?) i am loved.

you have held the space in this time when i most need it.

thank you. thank you.

(i am so blessed.)

another doctor's appointment early tomorrow morning. another holding of the breath while we see if the little one has gained weight. another prayer being said in the form of a mama stroking the cheek of her daughter. another day where our little elliebean will continue to sit herself inside our hearts with her every breath.

yes

we just live it. each day. we live it.

thank you for being beside us, holding us gently.

blessings and light,
liz

a few of my out takes from Inner Excavation

When Viv was here last month, I showed her the most recent printout of Inner Excavation that was from my final editing phase that happened earlier this summer. As she flipped from page to page and commented on what she was seeing and reading, she pushed me to own all that I put into the book. She pushed me to see the beauty and truth that tumbles from each page through the words, photographs, artwork presented by the contributors and myself. 

Life has been a bit consumed by the little bean for quite a while now, and the book was written during a pregnancy that was pretty tough. And today, when I look at the cover and see my name there (my.name.), right there, on the cover, I am filled with joy. I really did it.

And I cannot wait for you to read it and get lost in the photos and words and then take out your camera and paintbrush and pens and begin to peel back another layer of you.

Because the simple truth is that you are what Inner Excavation is about. Through photography, poetry, and mixed-media art, the book examines our inward journey using several different themes including looking at where we stand on our paths, where we have been, and what we can discover when we open our hearts to ourselves.

I believe that as you walk through the pages of this book, you will reveal your inner poet and dance inside the joy of self-portraits and pause to take in the present moment and sift through the dreams you have tried to ignore and find your way back to you.

Now to introduce you to the contributors! You are going to be deeply inspired by what the following incredible women have shared in this book:

Kelly Barton

Susannah Conway

Jen Goff

Darlene Kreutzer

Stephanie Lee

Annie Lockhart

Vivienne McMaster

Kristen Perman

Ruth Rae

Susan Tuttle

Judy Wise

Inner Excavation comes out in October, and it will be in bookstores of the online and in-person variety. You can also buy the book from me, and it will come signed (to the person of your choice). I am now taking preorders. Here are the details:

For $28.95, your Preorder Book Package includes:

*One book signed by the me (addressed to whomever you specify)
*A special edition postcard pack of photography, poetry, and mixed media art from several of the book's contributors (these images are bonus images not seen in the book)
*Signature packaging 
*Two-day shipping via US priority mail; international orders will ship first class international

To preorder, just click the PayPal button below. In the "Instructions to Seller," be sure to let me know the name of the person receiving the book. 

*****

In this moment, Ellie sleeps beside me and I know I am so blessed. This is truth. Thank you for being here and holding us and pushing me and inspiring me to continue to share these truths and cheering me on through this new path of motherhood that intersects with a childhood dream of the path of published author. Yes. I am so blessed.

(from my sixty seconds project)

i am drowning a bit at times. and i don't really swim well. i have a big fear of deep water, and if my head goes under, i try to take a deep breath. figures doesn't it? the person who invites others to breathe deeply would try to breathe under water (remember my earth mermaid wishes?)...

today, i am seeking the life raft that i have been finding in this space for almost five years. today, i am seeking the knowledge that i am being heard by someone who just wants to listen and not offer advice or "things will get better" or "just be positive" platitudes. someone who will just hold the space. (and i know this is so hard for us to do for one another. we want to fix. oh how we want to fix. we want to help. i know this. i am thankful for this. but sometimes someone holding the space is all a person really needs.)

today, i am honoring what is real in this journey we are on. i am trying to honor the truths and the beauty and the love and the fears and the shit. 

the thing is, when i look at this face and it cracks into a smile, i either forget just for a second that she is battling so much or another piece of my heart breaks off to float away. perhaps these pieces are gathering near the drain inside the space around my heart i create with each breath. i think somehow because she is such an easygoing happy baby most of the time, it feels like complaining to tell you the real stuff of how our days have been since she arrived. and just like i didn't share many details of my very difficult "high risk" pregnancy because i didn't want to seem like i was complaining, i have avoided sharing many of the details about these last few weeks. 

but, after yet another doctor's appointment, i just have to come to this space and be myself. the what is real me.

so here it is: ellie was born with a congenital heart defect. it sure does sound so very scary when you type it out like that. on one hand, just like with my "high-risk pregnancy," it could be worse. on another, it isn't a walk in the park. the "defect" is a murmur that could require surgery (of the open heart variety). at two weeks, we began our cardiology appointments. we knew what symptoms to watch for and at around five weeks, we began to see them. when we took her in, we learned that she actually was experiencing symptoms from a second issue. a "this could happen at any time to anyone at any age" heart rhythm issue that just happened to happen to our little one. this was what sent us to the PICU at five weeks. now that medication is helping, that secondary problem is (at least in this moment) pretty much under control and something that she will "out grow." at about eight weeks though (almost two weeks ago), we began to see symptoms of the murmur. 

so we are in a limbo place today. hoping she gains weight so she can nicely but firmly tell her heart to just do what it is supposed to do. giving her so many doses of medication each day we are trying to avoid our heads just spinning with it all. knowing she really might need surgery this fall. surgery. of the open heart variety. how does a mama even breathe thinking about her so new to this world little one having surgery. how does a couple even breathe when thinking about the piling medical bills and the fears and medicines and all of it and and and...

and yes indeed, i know, you just move through it. you just keep going.

having a child is like handing another human being a piece of your heart. because that is what love is. love for a child, a grandparent, a pet, a home. we sprinkle pieces of our hearts as we live. yes. this is what living is. this is what loving is.

we say in our own ways, with pieces of our hearts gathered in our extended hands:

i stand before you.
here.
(this is love.)

*****

tonight, after i wrote the previous paragraphs, i held a sleeping babe and felt this love and reminded myself yet again of the answer when i think about the question, "how will we do this?"

the answer is: we will live it.

we will live it.

*****

because i am so tender right now. because i have been holding it together for months. because everyone around me is quietly waiting for the "one thing" to be the "one thing" that pushes me over the edge and they will watch the roots keeping me grounded into this earth suddenly sprout wings as i float out of my body. because i need to just be heard...i quietly ask that you hold the space here more than share the stories of a friend of a friend who had this and was okay or not okay. i hope you understand what i mean by that. it isn't that i don't want your virtual hugs because those hugs (through your words) and prayers are the very reason i am sharing these words. i am being as positive as possible in almost every moment. i am holding onto hope. i am i am...but this is also very real and our journey has an outcome we do not yet know. 

and this is the phrase that comes to me (perhaps it comes to you too sometimes when you write in your space), i just need to come here and be seen. maybe it is the very writing of pieces of it all that will remind me that i see me. that i can hold the space for myself. yes. perhaps this is the truth i needed to find in this moment. perhaps i can give myself the gift of holding the space of all the feelings and letting them just be real and valid and part of it...part of me. maybe i can just let the feelings sit in the room and just be. 

it is okay.

we will live it.

(thank you for listening.)