snippets of today.*

*alternatively titled: eat. drink. sew. repeat.

.the soul mantra pendants.

earlier this month, i shared the pendant i created to be a constant reminder of what i am learning while practicing the mirror meditation.

this reminder: i am beauty.
(to be read when looking in the mirror)

at squam, i debuted a new line of pendants inspired by this meditation and others i try to practice as i walk on this journey. they are a way of bringing my yoga world into my creations a bit more.

i have added a few to my little shop this evening.

these pendants are an invitation to pause in your day, take a breath, and sit in the quiet, even if just for a brief moment.

when you wear one of these pendants, i invite you to see it as a reminder. when you feel it against your skin, notice it on your dresser before you put it on, hear it slide across the chain, see it resting against your neck in your reflection, give yourself permission to bring awareness to your breathing. inhale and internally speak your mantra. exhale and let whatever you need from this mantra settle over you.

(a big thanks to jen and nina for their words of encouragement (and advice) for me as i enter into another aspect of my creative world; this one filled with jump rings and wire wrapping and antiquing metal)

*****

if you placed a custom order with me (and gave me a deposit toward it) at squam, you should have received an email today confirming your order. if you talked about placing an order with me, but didn't receive an email, and are still interested in a custom creation, then please contact me (waywardtulip at gmail dot com). thanks!

what i know.

squam cabin reflection, 9.14.08
(more about this photo here)

this is what i know.

the words from the paul simon song "once upon a time there was an ocean" are continuously swirling through my head. this is a song of my heart (i wrote about it over two years ago here).

these words:

i figure that once upon a time i was an ocean
but now i'm a mountain range
something unstoppable set into motion
nothing's different but
everything's changed

yes. those words.

that is what life after squam is all about for me.

this is what i know.

what i wrote in that last post...about standing in the light and rooted in all i know...those words carried me like gentle golden light as i traveled on a plane across the country...as i dropped fears and what has beens and what might have beens and past hurts like feathers across the country...as i stepped outside after pulling into elizabeth's driveway and felt the trees of new hampshire embrace me as she did.

those trees...

those trees whispered to me all week.
you already know, they said.
you already have the answers.
you already know all you need to know to be in this moment, in this place.
let your heart be open.
do not let the fears of the past close you to all that could be.

yes.

those trees whispered to me all week.
they whispered as i helped (the incredible, amazing) elizabeth and her dear husband t before everyone arrived. they whispered as i embraced old friends and met new ones. they whispered as i remembered the past and faced forward toward the now. they whispered as people shared themselves. they whispered as i painted (yes. me. i painted). they whispered as people saw the best of themselves. they whispered as i saw the best of me.

and the light dappled down between those trees and surrounded me with truth and love.

this is what i know.

the beauty and joy and real-ness and love fest and light and song and play and silliness and nights by the fire that was squam art workshops has pushed me to begin to own who i am, what i know, what i want.

and how blessed i am to be feeling this.
to be seeing this.
to be understanding this.

and now i sit in the quiet.
i sit in all this quiet.
and i remember the laughter and the song and the play and the truth and the deep, wide embraces of it all.
i remember and i push myself to acknowledge that it is part of me now.
even though it seems so far away (you are all so far away) and it is so quiet now, i push myself to honor that it is inside me.
and i turn up the music and listen to my cabinmate sing her wise words.
and i twirl inside all that i know...
all that i have always known...
and i live.
i live.
i live.

standing in the light

there is a lightness. a moving forward. a letting go of the need to look behind.

momentum shoves into me. forcing me to step into the light. to step into the light and realize i am standing tall. rooted in all that i know. rooted in my wisdom.

with each breath of awareness of will remember this. i have known it all along of course, but it can be so easy to find myself in the dark for a bit...and how that "for a bit" can become for a long, long night sometimes.

this is how i (we) learn.

but today.
today i stand rooted with my face turned toward the sun.
i let the peace into the space around my heart. and i look forward. and smile.

i am living in my life.

*****

i am off to new hampshire. taking my paints and pencils and paper and new natasha bags and aprons and patchworked scarves and necklaces...
off to gather up dear friends and meet a few dear friends and meet some new folks.

sending you blessings and peace,
liz

for the journey...

seattle sunset, august 08

did you say you were headed out...on your own...on a journey? i think you mentioned that. i think you mentioned you were on your way...headed around a new corner, walking down a different street. i think that is what you are up to. i think you mentioned you were doing something just for you these days...thinking about focusing on yourself for a bit. leaning forward into life and love and hope.

is that what you are up to these days?
yes?

well, i'd like to share some songs i am taking along with me. i thought you might want to listen to a few. maybe even all of them.
in this very order.

i think they might give you exactly what you need. right now. because i think you just might need a dance break, a few songs for singing, a song to sing to one you love, a song to sing to you, a song for twirling, a song or two for remembering, a song to remind you that you are not alone, a song to tuck you in at night, a song to keep you going and to make you laugh and to let the tears gently fall....and...of course...some tina turner.

*****

the old apartment. barenaked ladies
don't ask me why. billy joel
raspberry beret. prince
mother and child reunion. paul simon
stop, stop, stop. the hollies
ob-la-di, ob-la-da. the beatles
galileo. indigo girls
songbird. fleetwood mac
army of one. cass fox
orbiting. the weepies
goodnight elizabeth. counting crows
if these walls could speak. nanci griffith
let me touch you for awhile. alison kraus and union station
sweet baby james. james taylor (one man band)
louisiana woman, mississippi man. conway twitty & loretta lynn
ruby don't take your love to town. kenny rogers
kentucky woman. neil diamond
blackbird. the beatles
three of us in a boat. jackopierce
sometimes a fantasy. billy joel
can't slow down. lionel richie
better be good to me. tina turner
kiss. prince and the revolution
somewhere over the rainbow/what a wonderful world. iz
power of two. indigo girls
a brid flies out. deb talan
joleen. ray lamontagne
i play music. rosie thomas

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)