in this moment {i am}

 

in this moment, i am

trying to find my way

handing over the fears to the candle burning on my altar

hoping you understand

wishing for a tiny shift

believing in the story that whispers inside me

letting go of your words

holding onto the sound of laughter

dusting off the truth

choosing faith

knowing some things might always have to just be what they are

standing tall in the light and the darkness

seeking the nurturing my heart needs

catching the stories that swirl in the air

building myself a boat to navigate all of it

breath of kindness

But oh! the blessing it is to have a friend to whom one can speak fearlessly on any subject; with whom one's deepest as well as one's most foolish thoughts come out simply and safely.  Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.  

- Dinah Craik

your corner...

December 1 from liz lamoreux on Vimeo.

today, i felt moved to make another video sharing something i just really want you to think about...something i really want me to think about. this idea of focusing on my own corner has really been pushing me lately. i have some projects/ideas/stuff to share in 2011 and i want to let go of all the what ifs and envy and fear and just show up as me and tell my story. sharing these little video snippets feels like one way to do this. thanks for watching. and if you feel moved to dialogue about this idea of focusing on our own corners, i welcome your thoughts...

*****

three other little things:

1) thank you (like big) for all the orders in the shop today. your response to my last post has deeply moved me. i am busy making more "seek peace" necklaces. there is such beauty in the experience of pounding those letters into metal. i have put my hope out into the universe that perhaps we will be able to donate enough to fund one family's stay at the Tree House (parent/family apartments) for one week. this is where jon and i stayed while ellie was in the PICU.

2) i have been receiving lots of inquiries for custom lockets/necklaces. at this time, i will take them through december 8. after that, i will be taking custom orders again in january. if you are interested in a custom order, please just send me an email or etsy convo.

3) i do plan to participate in december views again this year. i love this project. i especially love that there are no rules. this means i might just post another post today...or two photos tomorrow...or maybe just post on flickr. no rules. yes. love this. (let me know if you are playing along.)

inspired by ::one good thing::

view from ellie jane's PICU room . july 2010

so this post is really about my shop...well, not exactly...

this post is really about this idea i have about how to give in a one specific way this holiday season...and how one story inspired me...but there are some things that lead up to it all that i really want to tell you...so please read on:

jon and i have been trying to figure out how to give to others this holiday season as we sift through the bills from ellie's surgery and continued care, my surgery and ellie's birth, and millie's surgery that are stacked in a not so small pile on the kitchen counter. as i was thinking about this over the weekend, we received a few calls asking us to donate money to various children's charities. there is always a story that the caller begins to tell, and for the last few weeks, i find myself stopping them and saying something like, "actually, we kind of are one of those families right now, so we won't be able to give this year." i feel so odd saying it...as though it is some excuse...but then i realize that it simply is the truth.

this year, i have sat in a doctor's office, holding my five-week-old daughter while her doctor explained that we must leave for the PICU (pediatric intensive care unit). right now. and we cannot stop for anything from home. she will meet us there in 20 minutes. and then she will be using a defibrillator to try to get our daughter's heart, our five-week-old daughter's heart, to find its way back to sinus rhythm. and then it didn't work. and then the fog rolled in completely. except for my head. my head stayed out of the fog because my brain had to work in order to understand and make decisions and sign papers and hope...

and then we did it all over again when a surgeon cracked open her heart in order to repair it.

i keep thinking about the PICU. i keep thinking about how the fog rolls in when you are watching your child unconscious in a very small little bed hooked up to machines that you only knew about from watching er and grey's anatomy...i keep thinking about how the fog rolls in to provide you with a very clear path for moving forward. one breath. one decision. one moment. one prayer. (please.) repeat repeat repeat.  

i keep thinking about the woman in the restroom at seattle children's the day after ellie's surgery. i walked out of the stall and began washing my hands. she was putting on makeup. it was maybe 6 AM. she saw the badge that identified me as a parent. she was wearing one too. she wanted to tell me her story. honestly, i didn't want to listen. ellie's first hospitalization taught me not to look anyone in the eye and just walk to and from her room. i do not want to take on your story too was my unspoken wish. i cannot nurture you. i cannot be a sponge and be there for my family. i cannot help you. my daughter is not okay. please don't ask me one question. but here was this woman telling me that she printed out huge photos of her daughter and put them on the walls of her PICU room so that the doctors would see her as a person and not this unconscious teenage girl who had been flown in from alaska. "she is a real person who laughs and plays soccer," she told me. as i type this, i am right back there in that moment. trying to breathe (right now, i try to breathe) as this woman told me her story and then waited as i shared just a few sentences of ours. "only four months old?" she said. "yes." "i am so sorry," she said quietly as she reached out to hug me. me too. for you. for me. dear god why does this have to be the way it is for families. why. 

i keep thinking about the taste of the oatmeal cookies in the cafeteria. both children's hospitals ellie was in had them. they were the only thing that pushed me out of the fog for a minute and reminded me that i had senses. 

i keep thinking about the parents of children who are in the PICU right now. wondering if their child will live to see her first Christmas. wondering if they can make it through the next minute; knowing they must because this is their one job right now: get through the next minute and the one after that because they are their child's voice. i keep thinking about those parents who have been awake for hours...who don't have their toothbrush or clean clothes for tomorrow or someone to hug them. i keep thinking about those parents who are standing at their child's bedside hoping...praying...breathing through that fog.

*****

yesterday, this kind of perfect storm happened that brought me to this place where i am now writing this post. i was up early and watched the news while ellie was sleeping. i wanted to weep with each story of how we are hurting each other in this world. i decided to pound the words "seek peace" in metal that would become a necklace as my voice in the midst of that hurt. 

then i noticed a link to a blog post that a friend from high school had posted on facebook. i clicked. and i found myself reading about hudson. i found myself reading one woman's brave truth that she is writing as she walks the path of grief after her one-year-old daughter died earlier this year. and reading about hudson and her mama's wish that we do "one good thing" in honor of hudson's birthday this week deeply inspired me.

because here it is: i have dipped my toe in this world that this woman lives in. just dipped my toe in it as i watched the doctor use the defibrillator. as i waited for the pager to go off with updates throughout the surgery. as i stood outside sobbing when no one would explain why the surgery was taking hours longer than we had been told it would. as i take my daughter to the cardiologist each week. i have just dipped my toe in the world of the fear of the possibility that my child would die because her heart just couldn't do it anymore.

and reading mandy's beautiful words about hudson inspired me to have this idea:

instead of offering a discount in my shop this holiday season like i had originally planned, i am going to take 15% of the profits i make from items in the shop from today until the Solstice (December 21) and donate that amount to the PICU at Mary Bridge Children's Hospital. this is the hospital here in Tacoma where Ellie spent five days in July. 

and, instead of offering a free soul mantra necklace with purchase, i have put the "seek peace" necklace in the shop and will give all the profits made from that necklace to Mary Bridge. (i have enough supplies to make quite a few seek peace necklaces over these next few weeks.)

and when we donate the money later this month, i will let them know it is:

in honor of Hudson.

in honor of our friends whose children have died

in honor of the families we do and do not know who won't have one more day with their child

in honor of each day we have with Ellie Jane

*****

thanks for reading...i honestly didn't expect to write this much when i came to this blank screen earlier tonight. in some ways, all that i have written feels a bit dramatic. but this is our life. and instead of making this a shorter post or edit out the parts that seem like too much, i am going to let it be what it is. because as you read my words, you are helping me heal. because maybe someone who needs to know they aren't alone will read these words. because sharing our stories matters.

thank you for all the support you give me...give us...through your words and prayers and orders and emails and thoughts. thank you for seeing me.

even though...

even though my email looks more like a mountain each day

even though my to do list is multiplying at an alarming rate

even though my hair is falling out at an even faster rate

even though i sometimes don't know what to do next

this is what i know,

my life is pretty beautiful because each day is also filled with this:

come along to pen & paper

 
 

(manzanita view from the deck of the main retreat house, on a day in late november . note that blue sky)

Because the Pen & Paper Retreat is the first in this new series of Studio Gatherings, I want to share a bit more about this retreat and what you will experience if you come along...

*****

Imagine being curled up by a fireplace, mug of tea in hand, looking out through floor-to-ceiling windows at the crashing, turning, pushing waves.

Imagine the smell of baking cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee as your invitation to begin your day.

Imagine sitting beside someone who is quickly becoming a friend as you each share your creative dreams and brainstorm how to live them into reality.

Imagine the gift of time alone to spend in whatever way you choose without any expectation of what you need to do next.

Imagine getting out of your "writing" headspace and walking on the beach to gather shells or playing with paper and glue and color or simply sitting in the quiet remembering yourself.

Imagine finding your way to laughter and silliness and the decision that staying in pajamas all day is the perfect one for you.

Imagine having the space to simply listen to what you most need and then realizing that you are surrounded by people who will support you as you make it happen.

This is the Pen & Paper Retreat. This is a place where you can just show up, and you will be given the gift of time to rest and recharge so you can find your way back to you. This is your invitation to come and be with other people who are drawn to sharing who they are through the written word.

*****

A few Frequently Asked Questions about this retreat:

What will we do at this retreat?

Each day we will spend a few hours in community where the mentors for this retreat will lead the group in discussions, writing prompts, and other experiential exercises. Each day there will also be an optional meditation-inspired activity led by me (for example, this might mean an early morning beach walk or a senses writing meditation), and each evening there will be an optional group activity.  There will be lots of time during the day for participants to work on their own writing or gather in small groups or walk on the beach or take a nap or go into town and shop...and so on. There will be snacks available throughout the day so that participants can feel nurtured as they work, play, rest, and recharge. Also, an "art space" will be available throughout the retreat where participants can spend time collaging or finding words in magazines and books or working in art journals and so on.

Why should I come to the Oregon Coast in February?

Because when we give ourselves the gift of time away from our daily lives so that we can be present to our whispered dreams, it should be in a place that is gorgeous and sparkles and is full of magic. And, to put it simply, the Oregon Coast is magic. 

And yes, we might have rain or even a dusting of snow, but we will be cocooned inside together and the views will still take your breath away. In late February, we also might have sun and temperatures warm enough to go outside in just sweaters. And I can promise that flowers will be blooming. Flowers. Blooming. In February. Magic.

(view from the main retreat house . from the couch . where i was sitting and reading poetry . on a day in late november, 2010)

Even though I write on my blog and in my journal, I don't consider myself a writer. Is this retreat for me?

This retreat is for:

• Bloggers who want to hone in on the voice they want to write in on their blogs
• The person who wants to dust off the first chapter of the book she dreams of writing
• The creative person who wants to work on website copy in an environment conducive to writing
• Those who want to remember the poet who lives inside them
• The person who hopes to sit in the quiet and just look out on the ocean and then gather with others to simply talk about writing but not write one word
• Those who want to start a blog
• People who have a nugget of an idea for a writing project and want to share/brainstorm that idea in a safe environment
• Those who have a finished writing project but are unsure of the next step
• The person who has always thought the writing life sounded so romantic but wants the real scoop
• A person who wants to begin to journal
• The artist who is ready to submit article ideas to magazines but doesn't know where to begin
• The person who just needs to take a break from creating and simply be
• And the list goes on and on

(The whispered answer to this question: Yes, dear one, this retreat is for you [yes you]. And, the truth is you are a writer. But, it's okay if you aren't ready to own that yet.)

I don't have a current writing project but I feel called to this retreat. What should I work on if I come?

See above. Also, feel free to email me (Liz) and I will help you hone in on what you might want to bring to this retreat.

I'm an art journaler. Can I come?

Oh my goodness yes! I would love for you to come and share this beautiful writing tool with others. You will have time and space to art journal if you choose. And you will be given new tools that you can use to further explore and add to your art journaling.

*****

Please note: I am finalizing the housing needs for this retreat in the next week or so. Quite a few people have expressed interest in this retreat, so if you have been thinking about joining us, I would love to hear from you. If you need a payment plan to stretch the payments out over a couple of months, contact me for information. Also, if you have additional questions about this or other retreats, please just let me know by clicking the email button in the sidebar and sending your question to me. Thank you

thoughts from here (november 25)

this day (november 25) from liz lamoreux on Vimeo.

a few thoughts on this snowy, cold still in my pajamas at 1 PM thanksgiving day.

(and yes, i did decide to leave that little outtake in from the beginning of the video. me laughing at myself makes me laugh each time...and those of you who know me will laugh along with me i think.)

sending you and yours blessings and light on this day...

xoxoxo,
liz 

there are things i want you to remember {5}