today, this is what i know.

 

i heard your laughter today. it rang out inside me like a whisper from long ago. years now. the last time we talked has been almost half a decade ago. in this moment, i want to tell you all that has happened. i was so lost, searching my pockets constantly for a flashlight so i could find my way. and then, through that darkness, that grief, that fear, i suddenly looked up and saw all the lights around me. some were far far in the distance, but they stood there waiting. patiently. while i just kept going, even when i found myself back in the same place for a bit. i would tell you about how i one day realized that the lights were not only surrounding me with their guidance and truth and love, but that the light lived within me. within me. and i knew i would never again be alone. did you learn this truth when you were here? how i wish i could tell you. how i wish i could invite you to stand in your light and know. in this moment, i sit here with this truth within my heart while another light within me grows and twirls and beats each day, waiting. and when she arrives, i will teach her this truth. maybe i am already teaching her. i will teach her about the light within her. i will tell her about the light grief gifted me. i will teach her about the day i thought i was never going to find my way and then i looked up. i will tell her all that you teach me even now. even now when your laughter is...even now when you are...a memory.

here.

these days...

a couple of images from a little self-portrait session i did in a peek of sun earlier this week

these days i am...

writing . finishing the last chapter and other parts of the book. my editor's endless patience has been quite the gift during these weeks of trying to be creative with writing, photography, working in the studio while doing perhaps the most creative thing i have ever done (grow a human being). i am behind. but i am getting it done. and it feels like these words i am writing on the page are appearing exactly as they need to.

seeing . the elves were here again (in the form of my mom and steve) and we have unearthed more corners of our home so that it feels more like a true home and not a gathering place for stuff. we have more light, more room, and just the push we needed to keep it a bit neater on a day to day basis. my heart feels so much lighter each time jon and i work together to clean up after dinner, do the laundry, and so on...and most importantly, sit at the table together for meals.

gathering . little pieces of this and that to turn a guest room into the room where the new member of our family will live. there is a crib and a happy chandelier and a few bits of pink and purple. in the little room, i have begun gathering some bits to create the prayer flags that will hang above her and welcome her into the rhythms and love of our world.

listening . i have been sitting in the quiet to hear the wisdom within me. a humming meditation and toning in the shower are pushing me to remember my grounded true self. 

adventuring . just finished rereading about magpie's adventures in dreamdark and am ordering the next one. i just love that laini has given us a standing tall in her place in this world heroine that i can't wait for my daughter to meet one day as she turns the pages while on her own reading adventure.

seeking . today, i started reading birthing from within. there have been a few somewhat interesting experiences while having ultrasounds and appointments during this growing a human being time and there is the very slight chance i might have a scheduled c-section. i came close to pitching a tent in the land of uncertainty, especially when i didn't feel like i was being given clear information. but, i am now pushing myself toward being planted in the world of feeling strong in my body, heart, and mind as i see the third trimester of this adventure on the horizon. it is good.

dancing . little breaks to get this body moving have been such a good thing on these grey days. millie, baby bean, and i enjoy michael franti on repeat (dare you to sit still). and really i just can't get enough of joshua radin. 

knowing . a group of women has surrounded me during the last few months with their wisdom. with their words of "i am right here next to you. cry as long as you need to" when i thought a dream was dying. with their pushing me to see the truth when i felt like someone had peeked inside my idea journal and torn out every page. with their gentle answers to my many mama questions. with their loud, real laughter. with their brainstorming. with their reminders. with their truth. with their love. and i sit here knowing this truth, this truth that i am not alone, and my heart fills with this truth and i know i am blessed.

and you? what have you been experiencing these days? i would love to know... 

whispered reminders (to myself)

 

remember, you do not have to know everything in each moment.

you can be still.

you do not have to run ahead.

you can breathe deeply and just stay right where you are.

you choose where to let your mind reside.

you can ask for help.

you can close your eyes until you see only quiet.

it is okay to pause. 

you know what to do.

yes.

you do.

give yourself permission to listen.

give yourself permission to know.

hello february.

 

You have snuck up on me dear February, and you have come in with the whispers of blue skies in the midst of the drip drip dripping grey. My mind has been swirling so much lately...with so much joy but yet also confusion and hope and fear and longing. This is life. Yes. This is where I am on my path.

  

Today, after sleeping just a few hours last night, the grey threatened to pitch a tent inside me as the longing for a friend here in this town, a quick drive away, and spending time with someone who gets me mingled with the sleepy silly thoughts of someone who needs a nap. But then when Millie insisted we head outside, I noticed you February.

 

I noticed your promise of spring. Yes. Spring always returns. Always. No matter the fears, grief, the road behind. Spring always returns. And even though we live in to a place that entertains grey for a few months of the year, we live in a place where you, February, where you bring hope in the midst of the grey.

 

And hope seems like a pretty good place to pitch a tent these days...

Care to join me?

senses. afternoon exploration.

 {hear}

{touch}

{taste}

{see}

 {smell}

 {and know}

{a week of} pink: the promise of spring

 

each day this week i have been breathing in the sweet, strong, specific smell of the hyacinths that bloom on our kitchen windowsill. even though winter and the grey are also a part of each day, this feast of the senses blooming in my home reminds me that in this corner of the world the crocuses try to bloom in february, the days are getting longer, and the cherry tree already has buds in anticipation of its march performance. each day this week (in this week of pink), i have been reminded that spring will return...

{a week of} pink: the simple things

 

a few of the simple things that made this day brighter...

taking a few moments just for me 

wearing my favorite happy socks and bloomers and even wearing shoes

 

the ritual of making tea 

sitting at the table (without the laptop) with a snack

letting go of keeping my favorite vintage tablecloth for good and using it every day

 

the smell of a warm pumpkin muffin

a dash of homemade whipped cream

a favorite mismatch plate from my college apartment

  

gathering books to inspire and nudge me just a bit
breathing in the quiet
pushing myself to know i am enough

*****

i am playing along with christina today (in my week of pink sort of way). such inspiration in the participants' posts...