the view from here

my hope {december 23}

on this day, as the candles are lit to remind us that the light returns even as darkness surrounds,
my hope is that you let love in, that you choose it, that you live inside it.

my hope {december 22}

on this day, as the sun dips into swirls of purple and pink and blue and the air hints of a wish for snow,
my hope is that you sink into the truth that rests inside you.

each day

my heart is so wide open as i breathe in, i breathe out. i hold onto these days (she grows so fast), yet i often just try to get through pieces of them.

but then there is laughter. but then there is a sigh. but then there is dancing and just the right song. but then there is the quiet truth of a baby breathing softly as she sleeps. and then there is what is real. and i find myself immersed in joy and hope and truth.

my heart (her heart) opens my eyes (my life) to a deeper truth than i thought could exist.

and there is laughter.

and there is a sigh.

and there is dancing.

and there is quiet realness.

and there is love.

there is love.

 

what i need

tonight, everyone is asleep. the house seems quiet but i can hear millie snoring, the ocean sound machine keeping the beana lulled into rest, joshua radin serenading me so i do not feel alone, my fingers move move moving to share these words, my body's rhythm through my breath inhale exhale repeat repeat.

there is so much i want to tell you. so many stories that have been shuffling about inside me, for months or is it years. stories that are stacking up and now have begun to spill over. i am feeling moved, perhaps pushed, to share them here...tonight, i begin with a moment from last week.

friday, i wrote these words in an email:
one foot in the dark.
one foot in the light.
trying to give myself permission to own what i already know...
now i try to navigate trusting it all.
(i think i need a boat.)

moments later, i sat in this same spot i sit now while the beana slept and said aloud: i need to make myself a boat.

and with that i found myself grabbing an old wool sweater, tying a shawl around me, sliding on handwarmers, and gathering all that i needed to set up the table on the back porch so i could paint a huge canvas that had been leaning against a wall in our family room for about four months.

i pasted vintage paper and a map and other things to that canvas, piled on layers of gel medium, and took a pencil and wrote a letter asking for what i needed in that moment.

please

trust

only love

resting inside

hope

resting inside
love 

these words aligned with many others. choose, let go, live... line after line. and then i painted over all of it with a color i mixed until i found seaglass. 

as i mixed that paint, i just kept talking to the universe. i give you this because i can no longer carry it. i choose hope. i choose rest for just this breath.

and then the boat i needed appeared. just a silly little boat with a simple passenger watching the world, navigating it with her wide open eyes, seeking, searching, hoping.

while my little one napped, i found my way to remembering what i know. i let go of the chatter that rolls around inside me to remember the joy waiting for me when i give myself what i most need. when i give myself the gift of seeing me.

i think i need a boat, i said.

yes.

yes.

yes.

and now, as joshua radin sings and the ocean rolls and my foot tap tap taps, in this moment, just before i stand up and dance inside this truth, i let go of holding it all, and i choose to trust for this breath, then the next, repeat repeat repeat.

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.)