in this moment {a guest post from vivienne mcmaster)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy this "in this moment" post from vivienne mcmaster.

*****

In this moment, I am no where else but here. In this sunshine, this warmth, the ending of another day well lived. I put my camera on the ground, aim it upwards, and begin. I document days like this and the ones far less shiny too. I have these images to tell the story in a way that my memory can’t hold onto. It’s not the facts I want to remember, the date, the place. It’s the story of contentment my smile tells, the way sunshine feels after a week of rain and the way taking photos in the ravine makes me feel alive.

I am the only one living this life, this day this exact way and I am the narrator of my own story.

*****

Vivienne McMaster is a fine art and portrait photographer with a great love for toy and vintage cameras, self-portraiture, and channeling joy through her camera and into an image.

Her work can be found on her website, www.viviennemcmaster.com.

in this moment {a guest post from jennifer mcguiggan)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy this audio post, "in this moment (hold onto hope)" from jenna mcguiggan. (just click on "hold onto hope" below.)

*****

Jennifer (Jenna) McGuiggan is a writer, editor, and writing coach who works with artists, writers, and bloggers. She is the creator and editor of Lanterns: A Gathering of Stories, a collaborative book of prose, poetry, and photography about women in creative community.

Jenna invites you to join her in The Word Cellar, which she envisions as a cozy, stone-walled chamber filled with twinkle lights, shelves of stories, nooks of books, and plush armchairs perfect for sharing your tale.

Visit her online at www.thewordcellar.com or email her at jennifer{at}thewordcellar{dot}com.

hold onto hope

(a few) expressions of miss ellie jane

a blueberry girl

We are soaking up every minute with Miss Ellie Jane while also trying to learn her language and follow that often said to us adage "sleep when the baby sleeps." We are also hoping the sun will come out so we can take her on her first walk around the neighborhood (and maybe even venture to the Sound so she can soak up the senses of time spent at the water). 

Last week, we had a very intimate (just Jon, Ellie, our dear friend Juli, and me) "welcome to this world Eleanor Jane" ceremony.

The ceremony included special prayers and hopes and wishes for Ellie, and each of us read something to her. Jon read Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman. You can hear Neil reading it in the video above. It is a favorite book of ours and was the first book we bought when we learned I was pregnant last fall (agreeing that it is a beautiful book for a boy or a girl). I think you too will love it...

(During the ceremony, I read Ellie a just discovered by me poem by David Whyte that I will share later this week.)

Hope the sun is shining in your corner of the world...

know (a guest post from chelsea lonsdale)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy today's words from chelsea lonsdale.

*****

in this moment, i am overwhelmed with a move and the sorting of belongings, the temporary space in my daughter's father's apartment until we get the keys to our own (and, being together in the same space for the first time in two years, we will actually be parenting together briefly and sharing groceries, and the growth on each individual's behalf has been so exponential that it is almost like fellowship with a stranger, bright eyes and all). breathe. rest. when i am like this (which i am often, frazzled a bit and happily seeking balance with absolute confidence that it will be found), i draw from words. one phrase that i have written in my notes: "the earth is their communion." it is from a Wendell Berry poem, one that i cannot remember the name of and therefore cannot find for you because the book i got it from is out of print! (the country of marriage is the book - oh, if you can get your hands on this, please do) here, instead, is another of his: 

“As a people, we have lost sight of the profound communion—even the union— of the inner with the outer life.”—Wendell Berry 

know.

know both inside and out. know that the rhythm of our breathing, the energy between our selves, our children, our partners, our neighbors, the stranger sitting in the chair by the window here in this coffee house - we are in constant communion. breathe, and rest in this thought. we are in communion with one another, and with the earth, with the things we consume and the fabrics we clothe ourselves in. we possess an innate responsibility for these things. it is perpetual reciprocity - we give, it gives. we take, and it takes from us. what is 'it'? life? something within the universe? the mantras we hum under our breath? it is what you want it to be. it is in the push from life to death and to life again, from the ground up and then back down. know. grace. be. and be loyal to these things you have chosen. 

when are you most at peace?

i am most at peace when i am reminded of these things: the love between individuals - the way the poet writes to his dear wife, and the sacred places he makes for himself - near his window, in his house, as he plants and harvests (both literally and metaphorically). when there are flowers in my kitchen. when i am confident that my daily choices leave the smallest footprint. when there is simplicity. when my little one tells me she's going to be a woman someday.  when there is rain. when she meditates as she pours water from one little cup to the next. when spring turns to summer, and summer turns to fall. when there is community like this that liz has nurtured, that gives women the opportunity to connect and nurture one another. 

*****

chelsea is an aspiring writer who thrives on motherhood, community, and thrift stores. her blog can be found at nashifeet.blogspot.com. she also sells vintage and handmade on etsy at nashifeet.etsy.com.

letting go of fear (a guest post by jennifer belthoff)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy today's musings by jennifer belthoff.

*****

I feel like a failure
I came here
Volunteering to be present
Seeking to be inspiring
And everything I write doesn't even sound like my voice

I feel like a fraud
These words
They aren't me
I do not write like this

I am fearful of writing something terrible
Fearful of disappointing a friend
Where is this sudden writing fright coming from?

This fear is keeping me from being myself
It is holding me back
And spewing out things that aren't me

I must take hold of the fear
Place it in my hands
Firmly let the fear know I won't hold on
Then gently let it go

Upon release
I can hear the words my heart are speaking
My hands flow easily across the page
I can see myself appearing 

Free from fear
Fully present
Opening my soul to the world 

~~
What are you able to see
When you let go of fear?

*****

Jennifer Belthoff is
a dreamer,
a writer,
and a collector of words.

She enjoys
soaking in the sunshine,
laughing with her family,
and connecting with people.

You can get a little view
of life through her eyes
at Giggling in the Rain
(http://www.sunflowers131.blogspot.com/).

on my serious side... (a guest post from kolleen harrison)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy today's personal story from kolleen harrison.

*****

kolleen and her son chandler

last weekend i woke up early, piled 3 of my 4 kids into the car and drove over to the beach for the weekend. my hubby was already there since he had a meeting the day prior.

as i was driving...i kept looking in my rear view mirror checking on my kids (as a mom tends to do, i think! right moms?).

each time i would do this, my sweet Chandler would be
smiling to himself,
talking a bit to himself,
laughing a little.

it made me stop and think...
i realize the fact that he has autism would seem like a curse to many.
and trust me at times it can be VERY difficult.
but that day.
that particular day,
as i was driving and watching him i had to stop and ask myself this...
for a second i wondered...

maybe the "non- awareness" actually is a blessing...
maybe the not knowing the evils and sadness that are in our world can be a good thing??"

i don't know...

i know Chandler has many struggles but quite honestly he doesn't really know that.
i know by society's standards "he is different"...but quite honestly he doesn't really know that either.
what i feel he does know is this...
he is very loved by his family,
his dad is his constant and sometimes he wishes i would have a baby (and it would be a boy) so he wouldn't be so outnumbered! (LOTS of women in this household!!!)

i am certainly not trying to "make light" of the fact that this precious boy was diagnosed at age 2 1/2 with autism...

i am simply trying to find the blessing in it...the positive.

thank you for listening...

*****

kolleen harrison is a mama to 4 crazy kiddlies and wife to one prince charming.

she loves paint on her fingers, music up loud, creating little pieces that emphasize optimism and positivity and in turn will make your heart smile!  

visit her at http://www.heartwingsisters.blogspot.com

stretch marks (a guest post from kelly letky)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy today's meditative writing from kelly letky.

*****

I watch as the years layer themselves across my aging body, this collage of tiny scars tracing lines along my curves, a living scrapbook of losses, gains, labor. These marks, they build up slowly, like rings inside a tree, not taking away, but adding beauty, character, strength.

Still this book that is youth is not closed to me, not just yet. Instead it whispers of its leaving, letting me down gently, preparing me for days to come, when creases will be furrows, bindings will crack, pages will be brittle.

For now, I am elastic. I spring back from the cause of each mark, my body repairs. Spinning cobwebs from dust to create this web that weaves itself around me, through me, over me. Not a trap, but a cushion, arms of solace, fragile cradle for my soul.

My body, this body, will give out on me one day. But not now, not today. I have miles, many miles, to walk before I reach my destination. I have traveled through the stories of my youth, the angst, the heartbreak, the disappointment, and landed on my feet. These feet that are calloused, hardened off by years of wear.

But I made it to this day. This day that is here, this word that is now. I keep my eyes wide, my heart open, as I wander down the path of shadow and birdsong, sunshine and silence.

There are times, every day, when I forget where I am. Forget everything but the crazy pattern of my steps. And then I come back to the present, not sure how many miles I've traveled, what chapter I missed while I was gone. But there is no reverse. No backtracking. And there is no standing still.

There is only forward. I listen as the breeze mumbles through the trees, telling secrets I will never know. Marks are scratched on the path as I move along, corners folded in, proof to track the passage of time. I don't look back, or down. I don't tally these days that are gone but not forgotten.

I breathe in, arms wide, embrace the moment. This one, the moment I'm in. There is only ever just this one.

I stretch to reach it. A new mark grows on my skin in its place. Evidence of life.

And still, I stretch.

I stretch. And I reach.

*****

Kelly Letky is a graphic artist, jewelry designer, writer, photographer, wife, mother, sister, daughter, crazy cat lady, friend, runner, knitter, gardener, and trying to be, above all, kind, caring, loving, generous, artful, and immersed in each and every moment. You can see more of her work and writing on her blogs at www.bluemusejewelry.com and www.mrsmediocrity.com.