a reflected reminder.

Continuing the reflection meditation practice.

Breathing in

Breathing out

Focusing just on me

This week, as I look in the mirror, I have been inviting in peace with each inhale. Then, I try to give the negative, nagging voices permission to quiet and settle inside this peace as I exhale.

And, I have been playing with jewelry…an idea born from a discovery of metal stamping letters in the garage at my in-law’s this summer that flowed into the desire to create daily reminders that would act as a talisman of sorts to wear around the neck…an invitation to quiet the mind in the midst of all that a day can bring.

This is a pendant I created this weekend.

It is a reminder to embrace my beauty.

When I look in the mirror, I read its words and pause just for a moment and remember. I pause to remember me.

I created it to be read when reflected in a mirror, so it is backward when you look at it straight on but forward when you most need to read it…when you are looking right at you.

A reflected reminder, a reflected invitation to embrace and own your beauty.

thoughts put to screen.

the ceiling fan whirs and spins and shakes the pull that clanks insistently against the glass lightbulb cover. millie sighs into sleep at my feet. jonny shifts in his chair as he checks email and plays with his new computer....i hear the hushed tinkling of a piano as barry manilow sings, "...and when october goes, the same old dream appears, and you are in my arms to share the happy years...i turn my head away to hide the helpless tears...oh i hate to see october go." music has a way of invoking a memory, a time, a place. of course.

and this album, this sultry, jazzy, smoke-filled room of an album that barely pauses between songs puts me right back into the hot tub on the back porch of our house on oak road. that hot tub...a fortieth birthday surprise for my mother. i can see us, the four of us, sitting in that hot tub with the snow surrounding us...daniel the cat and his brother silver jumping up to peek into the water. my parents talking about their days while i soak up every word and my little brother plays with something, a matchbox car perhaps...or a he-man character...

i know every word to each one of these sad, heartwrenching, foreshadowing songs. my ten-year-old self knew the words to every one of these songs. not understanding that people really did leave one another. not knowing the pain that could exist alongside love. not knowing the pain that was to come. but these songs knew. these songs knew that love could end.

when i opened up a new blog post tonight, i planned on writing a "senses post" about this moment. about how my hands smell like brass because i have been playing with wire and creating. about how the water tastes and feels as it falls down my throat. about the beauty in the midst of the nest that is our home. about the softness of the my new linen bloomers against my skin. i planned to share the senses of this moment.

but then this music began and my thoughts turned to more than twenty years ago. twenty years. to a time when my heart didn't know much other than love and hope...in that house, the music would flow throughout...into almost every room...and sometimes my parents would put this album on and i would be alone in the living room and i would begin to dance with an imaginery partner and pretend i was in the midst of a "baryshnikov on broadway" sort of scene and i would pretend i had my own partner to love. i would dance and sway and live inside the hope of my own love...i would dance inside my own future.

here i am.
i am that future.

and i reach for my partner's hand and dance in this place, in this time, to this music. as i am living inside the hope that is my life.

constant friendship {love thursday}

miss millie patiently waits for us to head to bed, 8.27.08

my constant companion throughout my days.

she follows me around the house.

sighing when we finally settle into a room where i will work while she watches me, listens for squirrels and the mailman, and snoozes.

she came to stay just days after traveler died. we were just going to "foster" her for the rescue. but, of course, she knew she had come to stay forever.

when she rests her head on my foot when we curl up for a midday nap, i feel a certainty that all is as it should be in that moment.

she is one of my teachers as she seeks and sniffs and knows when to rest and knows when to play and knows just when to nudge me as if to say, "everything is gonna be alright."

she has a place right in the middle of my heart.

(more love thursday here)

peeking into this evening*

*alternatively: playing with the new 50mm lens and having too. much. fun.

if...

If you lived down the street or across town, sometimes, in the middle of the day I would call and say, “I have to take a break from this. I need air. I need to get out of my head a bit. Want to join me?”

And, I would hop into my gunmetal gray Beetle and drive down the street or across town and pick you up. I would pick you up and we would go get coffee or visit King’s Books or take photos as we walk along Puget Sound. I would pick you up and we would get outside…we would talk and solve life’s problems and laugh until tears rolled down our faces.

If you lived down the street or across town and I came to pick you up, we would turn up the iPod and sing loudly as we drove to the park or Mandolin Café or to the Rhododendron Garden. We would sing and laugh and get it all out of our systems…

Yesterday, I was thinking about this when I took a break in the middle of the day and drove a few miles to a fabric store and then visited Borders. I was thinking about how I wish you were here. I was thinking about trying to capture what it was like to spend a bit of time with me yesterday when I decided on a whim to leave the house sans make-up, with my hair pulled back, and wearing my comfortable yoga clothes. When I decided to leave the house because I needed to "get out of my head" and into the world.

As I was out in the world…as I was driving...I was thinking about all this and decided to capture it, for you. Right here.

(the decision to “capture” the moment was more than a little inspired by this beautiful spirit)

an invitation to see {self-portrait challenge}

Two years ago, my daily practice, for two months, was to look in the mirror for a few minutes everyday. I began this practice after reading an article by Elizabeth Gilbert in Yoga Journal (read more background about my previous experience with this meditation here and here).

A few weeks into this practice, I realized I had stopped just looking at me and instead had started seeing me. I began to see the beauty in the curves of my face and how my eyes sometimes seem to smile and the fullness of my lips. I began to see wisdom and truth. My internal self-talk began to soften.

For a few months, I have been thinking about starting this practice again. After a confusing couple of moments while on a trip this summer, moments that brought up that harsher self-talk, I found myself standing in front of a mirror and pausing.

I stood there and looked myself in the eye and felt myself begin to crumble a bit. I was honest with myself about the feelings that had surfaced and could feel that invitation to simply "lose it." In that moment, I took a deep breath, and looking eye to eye with me, I felt an invitation to seek some refuge within this meditation I had spent time with two years ago. So much emotion knocked inside me as I looked at myself, trying to see beauty. I didn't want to give into that internal pull to lose it, as I needed to exit the bathroom at some point in a manner that seemed pulled together. So I stood there watching the shadow of my earring that the light from the skylight was creating…I just watched the shadow on my face and how light seemed to dance around it. I took in that moment and found my breath.

The next day, I found myself standing in front of this mirror again, and I focused on the way my bangs brushed across my forehead. The day after that, I focused on the slight curve of my lips right before a full smile spread across my face. And on and on. For about three weeks now, I have spent a few minutes each day just looking at me…trying to see me again.

Earlier today, I stood eye to eye with me and felt that self-talk soften just a bit.

This reflection mediation has become my practice yet again.

I am trying to see me…to see more than what someone else might see when making assumptions or judgments…to see more than what I see when doing the same. I am looking at the shadows and the light and trying to give myself permission to crack open a bit more.

I am standing eye to eye with me and trying to let the shadows dance their way into the light and shine just a bit.

I am giving myself permission to see beauty.

I am giving myself permission to see me.

(read Elizabeth Gilbert's full article here)

*****

updated in 2011: Self-Portrait Challenge (SPC) was a website and community that encouraged people to take and share self-portraits. I loved this project! However, I am sad to report that it no longer has an active website, so I have removed links that appeared in the posts connected to my participation in this project.

whispers of fall (and a sale)

even though i expect we will have a few more summer days, the whisperings of fall have appeared this week. the windows are slightly cracked to let in the fresh air. the water is on for tea. i am snug in one of jonny's sweatshirts.

and i am diving into fabric that reminds me of fall. browns, deep greens, sky and ocean blue, and a little pink (because...well...why not?) i'm working on a few things for my vendor table at squam and a few things to put in the shop.

so i thought i would have a "heading toward the end of summer" sale in my little shop. all totes are 35% off, maude bags are 20% off, and pillows with a dash (or more) of pink are 15% off (the pillow form is still included at the sale price). i hope you will check out the sale here.

a few people have been asking about my prayer flag sets. i do have plans to make a few sets this fall. hopefully i will have a handful at squam and then will put some in my shop later in september. thank you so much for your interest in my creations.

*****

on another note, i had a perfect moment today that i wanted to share. i was making myself a little fruit salad as part of my lunch, and the orange i wanted to add didn't want to pull apart. i was getting juice everywhere. so i simply decided to stand over the sink and suck the juice right from the orange (ala miss matty). it dribbled down my chin as i giggled with each slurp.

it was wondrous.

have you had any perfect moments lately?

today's mantra

water at the 5 spot, seattle

as the rain falls
and the wind trickles into our open windows
and millie sighs before curling into rest
and the voices and writings of dear friends
(with their wisdom and love)
dance across my heart,
one phrase circles my mind.
it feels like home.
it feels like right where i need to be.
and to hear it sung invites me to believe,
and to know,
it is all as it should be.

it is today's mantra:
i hope

(to hear it sung to you, click here.)

(thank you)