over here...

one very small dahlia . point defiance park, august 2011

goodness it has been quite a week over here. the usual living stuff combined with jon's return to school and the schedule that brings combined with some pushes and pulls that have me a bit off kilter.

i'm trying to remember the self-care tricks i have up my sleeve while also chasing an always-on-the-move 15-month-old little girl. i'm trying to fit it all in somehow. i'm trying to breathe more than worry. i'm trying to quiet the chatter within. i'm trying to put family first while caring for my dreams. i'm trying to soak up the last few days of blue skies and warmth. i'm trying to let go and listen.

i guess the truth is that in some ways, i'm trying to find my way as i look for all that i already know...as i look for the light that is (always) waiting.

i hope this weekend brings you moments to rest and laugh and breathe it all in...and maybe a cupcake. yes. a cupcake would be perfection right about now, don't you think?

blessings,
liz

choose

manzanita self-portrait . iphone with hipstamatic app

today,
as i look forward toward all that is to come, 
i choose to trust 

a list of here.

a bit like candy . necklaces heading to the shop

i have a head cold.
i am trying not to worry about giving it to ellie. 
this is when i use a wand like dumbledore's to pull the thoughts of fear from my brain to store in vintage spice jars.
(i wish dumbledore could come for tea. maybe he could take some of the spice jars with him.)
we watch NCIS. when it is on, i pretend my grandpa is still alive and we will talk about it in the morning.
we never actually talked about NCIS, but i know he loved it, so i pretend.
usually we would talk about birds and notre dame sports and how much we both missed my grandmother.
now i miss them both. 
but each day it doesn't rain, ellie and i go outside and i tell her about the birds. i name each of them so she will always know. perhaps her first word will be chickadee.
i could easily be one of those people who travels the word searching for birds.
but mostly i am a bit hermit-like.
(having a baby with health issues makes being a hermit easy some days.)
being a hermit has its perks as you get to use your own bathroom all the time.
but it can get lonely (even when you are not alone).
this is one reason why i host retreats and get really excited to connect with people in person and teach workshops around the country.
i have been thinking lots about what makes the be present retreats such a beautiful experience for the women who gather.
i am honored to be part of them.
i believe that we must share our stories so we can deeply live in our lives.
otherwise i think the stories, our truth, get stuck inside us and that invites us to become stuck.
when we are stuck, we sometimes don't see the beauty or feel the light upon our heads.
(i know a lot of people who seem stuck.)
pounding phrases like "i am enough" and "i let it go" and "stand in your light" into metal push me to remember the truth that i (want to) believe.
i am so blessed.
but i have a head cold.
so i am going to tuck all of this "here.ness" inside me and take a breath or two and head to bed.
hope the sun shines in your corner of the world tomorrow.

making choices as i find my way...

the author's advanced copy of my book arrived. yep. i am holding it right there in that photo. with my name on the cover and everything. my. name. is. on. that. book. it is a bit unbelievable i must admit.

part of the unbelievableness is because i am so preoccupied with ellie's health needs right now. so time for celebrating that this day has come doesn't exactly fit into the schedule in between medicine and feedings and appointments and calls regarding all that is to come...

but then there is this other reality that i so very much want to share my book with you! i want to invite you all over for a big ice cream sundae party complete with champagne and show you every page and point out my favorite parts...i want to tell you all about why i wrote it and why i hope you will find your way to a bookstore near you and seek it out or order it from me with a signed note addressed just to you.

but gushing about the book in this space feels a bit like answering the question, "how are you?" with "just fine" when what you really want to say is, "pretty damn bad thanks for asking."

so i thought about not even talking about the book here...but that isn't the right answer either. (i am sounding a bit like the guy in that scene from the princess bride. you know the guy. that inconceivable guy. but this is the way my mind works sometimes. too much thinking.)

so while doing all this overthinking, i found myself seeking a space away from the mind chatter and i did what i often do. i took several deep breaths and gave my mind permission to quiet a bit and i turned to words on paper and wrote this poem note:

in this moment, i am
choosing to seek joy
making space to soar
resting inside hope
dancing through the fear 
pausing to notice
(with each breath)
the truth that lives inside me

a few hours later, i was creating a few custom soul mantra lockets and saw this poem note again and decided to hammer the words joy, soar, rest, hope, dance, and pause into a few small lockets i had on my studio table. it was one of those moments where i was singing along with paul simon while creating with my hands and smiling knowing i was supposed to be right there in that moment. knowing it was all coming together just as it should.

this evening, while thinking about how i want to tell you all about the book and why i am proud of it and why i think you will want to read it, i thought about this. how i turned to poetry and creating in the midst of the swirling challenges of our current every-day world. how finding my way to the words that live inside me invited me to find my own rhythm again, so that when it was time to be back in the world of medicine and calls with the insurance company, i felt more grounded and more like me...even though this is so different than the life i had imagined living with a three-month old baby, my baby. even though i am more scared than i have ever been, i am finding my way back to strength and bravery and the wisdom that lives within me.

and then it all came together: my book is about this very thing. it is about how we can see poetry, photography, and art as tools on our path, and how these tools help us unearth the truths that are whispering inside us. this book is about seeking the beauty in each day, even when that day might also be full of challenges and heartache and fear but also when it is just full of the everyday stuff that life gives us. it is about turning to words and paint and paper to see yourself. it is about picking up your camera to document the life that you are living right now. 

and as i live this life and walk on this new path, i realize the gift i have given myself in already having this rhythm with my camera and pen and all that waits for me in the little room. i have given myself a gift of knowing what i need to find the joy and the beauty in this life. 

yes.

this is why i want to tell you more about Inner Excavation. this is what it it all about. we choose what we shine a light on in our lives. we choose what we see in each moment. we choose. even when life is full of the everyday struggles, we choose. and creating can become the way we document these moments of our truth.

yes.

i hope you will join me in a moment of celebrating. because i will own that what that photo above represents is indeed a beautiful page of the book that is my life.

(thank you)

blessings,

liz

today. i choose.

 

leap . gearhart, oregon . august 2010

today, i choose to believe that something good this way comes.

realness. (rambles of a sleepy mind)

our days are upside down. what i wear for the day becomes my pajamas as what i wear for the day means yoga pants and a nursing tank. maybe it is that i am wearing my pajamas all day but putting them on in the morning or at noon instead of in the evening. sometimes i snap at jon because my brain seems mushy. not an excuse, just real. then i notice that he looks as tired as i feel and i try not to snap the next time. the burst of energy to create or do something fun comes around 9 PM, when miss ellie decides she has the same burst of energy but hers manifests as a need to cry. one book said that after having the whole day filled with newness (as my brother says, each moment for a newborn is filled with "why? why? why?" which makes me think of the seagulls in finding nemo saying "mine. mine. mine.") the little ones have a need to cry as a simple let down from it all. who knows if that is true as, of course, there are more opinions than there are babies it seems...but i do think about our adult need to sometimes cry just because after a long day filled with stuff and learning and new.ness. yes. i might have that need at any moment lately. i don't think people honor the truth of how shocking it is to have surgery while awake. this is a phrase that has been running through my mind. and to have that surgery while you are awake when you have been awake for 36 hours, when you spent 24 of those in intense labor...well, not many people talk about that. maybe they do but they just don't talk about it to the people who need their wisdom. or so it seems. is that too much information to share in this public place? will the judgement begin when the story is not even known? deep breath. i would love it if the sun would come out again this afternoon. she appeared yesterday afternoon out of no where so we sat outside for dinner with ellie in her bouncy seat and it was really wonderful. i hope for more moments just like that one. maybe today, as the delightful miss viv will be in the house (how lucky i am to have friends who get me and want to spend the night even though a newborn is in the house and might prevent a long night of sleep) and it would be superb if we could eat the berries + whipped cream i have been dreaming about while sitting on quilts outside in the sunny rays of early evening. that would be perfect. trying to decide if i am going to keep sewing today during those bursts of free time or if i want to bring out the paints. am working on a few new designs for the shop inspired by time with miss ellie. funny how even in this sleepy-mind time i have had more new ideas for what i want to create than i had all of last year. we have rearranged some of the house and have the big dining room table in a place where we can actually use it. it can be a table for eating, sewing, grading, painting, and how the list goes on. finally. we are figuring it all out. together. this family thing. we are figuring it out...

and i can't get this song out of my head...have loved it for years (though eleanor was named after someone, not this song) and found the video on youtube and just had to share...(a song that has groovy rhyming with movie AND the word etcetera? what more could a girl want?)

hope things are beautiful in your world...thanks for reading the ramblings of mine...

this day.

seeking: where i stand (or my toes beyond the bump)

listening: to laughter and truth and good things while sharing breakfast with a dear friend 

enjoying: little bursts of energy (so more goodies coming to the shop before "maternity leave" begins)

hoping: the sun comes around again tomorrow

planning: curtains + poms for the little one's room

wishing: you were coming for a visit in the next couple of weeks

hearing: "you look really really pregnant from this angle" (said aloud in the backyard this afternoon)

feeling: entranced by this photo (oh and this one)

breathing: through many a moment as the weeks are now filled with one to three appointments to check on the little one (non-stress test does not mean mama is not stressed)

appreciating: jon's endless help (from laundry to lifting to rubbing my back...i am lucky)

knowing: somehow everything is just at it is supposed to be 

know your truth.

all the colors . port townsend, march 2010 

last week, as i was pounding letters, mantras, beliefs into metal, i had the thought to pound in the phrase "speak your truth."

this phrase has meant a lot to me over the last few years or so. back in november of 2006, i found myself in the midst of an illness that involved a growth on my thyroid. as i tried to make sense of the senselessness that is biopsies and other things, i kept coming back to how the words i so often wanted to say were sometimes stuck, literally, in my throat. how this had been a piece of my truth for my entire life. this growth seemed to represent this truth. (i wrote about my thoughts at the time here.)

this need to speak my truth came up again in 2007 when my dad shared that he wanted to get treatment for alcoholism. spending time with him and "talking about it" meant that i would need to speak my truth. i didn't know what form it would take or how i would be "brave" enough to share my experiences with someone in my family. i thought about the pain and all that i wanted to say to him (and as i thought about that pain, i thought about all the pain that had brought me to that moment). but when i started writing pieces of my story to share, i glimpsed something really important while in a hotel room outside chicago writing from my gut. i glimpsed a lesson in the idea that sometimes it is knowing our truth that is the powerful piece. this glimpse helped shape how i shared my story with my dad.

i didn't put this "glimpse" into the words of "knowing my truth" at the time. instead, i focused on how sharing our truth from a place of truth and love, as i did with my father, can push us to be honest while also owning our own pieces of the experience.

i think often of this idea of speaking my truth. in situations that have been confusing or when i find myself trying to set boundaries, i think about how i can speak my truth but from a place of truth and love. i know i do not always do it. i know i mess up a lot. i know my feelings/emotions in a moment can sometimes over rule this way i want to be. but i try to think about how to share pieces of my experience from a place of love of myself and love for the other person (whether i truly love the person or just feel compassion toward a fellow human i might not know very well).

let me try to explain another way: when something happens that shifts us, that moves us away from feeling grounded or "like ourselves," i think we have to look at why this feeling has come up. the truth piece comes in because we have to be truthful with ourselves. are we hurt? why? what is this really about? is this triggering something else/someone else? then, in being honest with ourselves, we can maybe see how we can separate how we are feeling from the other person/people involved.

as i started to pound "speak your truth" into metal last week, i stopped after "speak" and stood there staring at the word for five minutes or so. i thought about all of this. about how sometimes what seems like speaking my truth is actually a mishmash of feelings, emotions, fears, pain, triggers and not really the truth that rests in the core of who i am...who i hope to be.

in that moment, i thought about how it is powerful to know my truth and why i am reacting the way i am. in knowing my truth, i first speak my truth to myself (and then maybe to a very trusted friend because sometimes you need to hold someone's hand as you find this truth within you). i figure it out. i trust my self.

this is the most important piece: when we know our truth, the truth frees us.

then, from a place of truth and love, i can decide how and if i need to speak my truth to another person. i can figure out what pieces to tell that person that will help him or her see me instead of feeling attacked or invited to be defensive.

i think about that moment in that hotel room when i found my way to words that invited my dad to hear me instead of hearing judgement. i hoped that my words would convey: "this is what it was/is like to be me. this is how your actions shaped me. but i am glad to be who i am. i wish there had been less confusion and pain, but i stand tall in my life proud of who i became even though there was this pain on my path."

in this moment, almost three years later, i believe that our relationship is the good one that it is partly because i chose to know my truth and share only pieces of it so that my dad would be able to hear me. if i had attacked or come from a place of judgement, our relationship might be different now.

so what did i do with those words pounded into metal? i changed my mind and pounded the phrase "speak of hope" in one locket and "know your truth" in another.

speak of hope . know your truth

i know i do not do this all the time, this know my truth stuff...i do not always sit in the quiet to try to know what my feelings are about and why. ask my husband. he is often the recipient of my knee-jerk, pouting ways.

yet, i am trying to find my way to this as i walk in my life. trying to find my way to sharing pieces of my truth in the way that helps me and those i love. this means my heart is pretty open most of the time. this means i am sometimes misunderstood because not everyone feels comfortable with truth and love. this means i sometimes stumble as i try to find my way through my triggers and the pain.

as i look to this vulnerable time where i am bringing a new human into this world, where i am walking a new path that invites more judgement than i have perhaps ever felt in my life, i know that coming from this place of truth and love will serve me and my little family.

the other day, i wrote a status on facebook about how tender my heart feels and how we never know what another person is experiencing. this is so true. i believe this to my core. yet, i sometimes think we say that we believe this because we want to be able to say, "don't you know how hard it is to be me? don't you ever think about me?" i should rephrase: sometimes i think i say this when i feel hurt because i want to feel better that no one knows my day-to-day experience; no one knows what it is like to be me in this life. and this truth pushes me to think about how we have to remember, i have to remember, it goes both ways.

before we "speak our truth," we must remember that someone else will be the one to hear us. we must choose our words. in this place on this day as i walk on this path, my path, i invite myself to know my truth and to choose love.

singing to remember.

 

south carolina spring . april 1, 2009

a year ago, when my grandfather died, i listened to alison krauss on my ipod on repeat throughout our trip to south carolina. something about her voice, the harmonizing, invites me to feel at home, invites me to feel safe.

the song "i'll fly away" makes me think of my grandfather now. i think about him saying his last words...drifting off to sleep while my mother and aunt sat beside him...and in the wee hours of the morning i believe he heard the sounds of the loons harmonizing as they called him home...

tonight, i found myself pulled to listen to alison krauss. i harmonized along with her and felt the space around my heart crack open just a bit so i could breathe a little easier on this day. as i sang so loud with my headphones on and my body moving to the music while working in the little room, i found myself remembering what i know to be true. and i found myself resting softly in this remembering.

the stories...

 

a new (whispered) soul mantra in my little shop

last sunday, a dear friend was visiting and we were talking about how much has changed for me during these last almost six years of living in the pacific northwest. she has known me since i was 14, and then we were colleagues in my job at the boarding school back in indiana. she knows that i was not my most happy, real self while in that job. she asked me about what changed when moving here.

being in a new place was a big piece as i tried to find my way...but part of this internal awakening came as i sifted through the grief that came into my life about nine months after we moved when my grandmother died on the heels of my first golden, Traveler, dying of cancer. my heart cracked open as it seemed to break in two when i found myself in a funeral home in south carolina facing the truth of this first walk into deep grief. last sunday, i said to my friend, "i learned what love really felt like in that moment." we talked about the relationship that i had with my grandmother and how she really did have such a challenge showing those she loved that she loved them, yet she found her way to show me. i know that her love shaped me so much as a person, yet i am saddened that, from my perspective...based on the stories shared with me, she did not often find her way to show this side of herself to others in her family.

i said something to my friend about now i find myself pulled to tell her story...to tell the stories of all the women who came before me. and, at this point at least, i don't mean the details of their stories...i don't mean the specifics of a family's journey. no. i mean that as i share my story...here, with my friends, at retreats, in my book, through the art i create...as i share my story i am telling their stories because they live in me. literally. they live within me. and as i walk in this life, i am the proof of their love...my mother's, my grandmother's, her mother's, and so on...i am the gift of the love they opened up to in their life...even if just for a moment. and i am here to tell their stories as i walk on this path.