the living part

a july evening picnic . point defiance park

Your weekend invitation:
Gather a few things that bring you joy.
Get outside.
And lean into living. 

Then notice the shift the really living part brings...to your mind, to your body, to your heart.

evening thoughts

these words seemed to need to tumble out of me this evening...

thank you for being out there in the world and coming here to this corner and sharing pieces of you (and seeing pieces of me)

in the video, i mention the emerge e-course that is coming up next month and the podcast i did with kimberly wilson.

this time...

these full of joy photos are such a contrast to this time last year...

this time last year we were waist deep in please let us get through this. please let her grow, thrive, live.

this time last year we were standing on the edge of knowing open-heart surgery was to come for a baby weighing less than 10 pounds.

this time last year my body was trying to heal in the midst of everything else.

this time last year i stood tall as a mother, as a woman, as a warrior, in ways i never imagined.

this time last year i couldn't remember a night filled with restful sleep.

this time last year i was afraid to admit that parts of my experience giving birth had been traumatic in every sense of that word.

this time last year i couldn't remember what my own laughter sounded like.

this time last year i had just finished the final edits of my book.

this time last year i began a practice of honoring what is real in my life, and i began to see the beauty in that real.ness.

this time last year i found myself blessed to realize i had loved ones and complete strangers around the world praying for our little family.

this time last year i was far far away from what "most people" experience when they bring home their child from the hospital.

this time last year i was shedding all expectations.

this time last year i was realizing what be present meant at its core.

this time last year i was longing for the sea and hoping she would heal me.

this time last year we wondered if her eyes would stay so blue.

this time last year i had never heard her laughter.

this time last year i held onto the poetry of mary oliver in the hopes that it would keep me tethered to truth.

this time last year i stepped out of a few roles i had been playing for far too long.

this time last year i began to think that a heart breaks and mends with each breath thoughout a lifetime.

this time last year i would close my eyes to rest but still see the green line and hear the beeping.

this time last year i could fall asleep in the middle of almost anything.

this time last year i had never been more aware of all that i did not know and all that i could not control.

in this moment, i sink into the beauty that is the loud with living laughter of a little girl taking her first unaided steps as she walks back and forth between her mama and daddy.

in this moment, i sink into the beauty that is a little girl who is so brave and strong and full of joy as she stands tall in simply being 13 months old. 

and in this moment, i begin to rest my tired eyes with a soft sigh because i know that even in the midst of all that pulls on my mind and heart, we are so blessed.

compassion and love (a self-portrait)

as the light faded wednesday evening, i took a few self-portraits...playing with different angles and looks into the camera. i was having a lot of fun. but then, when i looked through them on the camera, i was so distracted by my arms and my tired eyes and...how the list goes on. so finally, i put my camera straight in front of me, closed my eyes, and focused on filling my whole body with love and compassion. i took several breaths just imagining this compassion and love moving throughout my body. then, while the timer beeped, i looked into the camera imagining i was looking at someone with only love (imagining the look my heart needed in that moment). 

later, looking through the photos, my thoughts were softer. i saw beauty and a woman taking the time to just be in her life. i saw truth and realness and some wild, maybe even gorgeous, hair. and then i came to this photo and saw a woman choosing to love herself.

interesting how all the other stuff melts away when you let love fill the cracks.

(whispering now): i dare you to try it. 

sending blessings across the miles,

liz

PS would love to see the photo you take.

inviting in joy (a musing and a shop special

this year, activiely seeking joy is part of my daily practice. i want to be in this place where each day i send joy an invitation that if said aloud my sound a bit like "hello joy. i know you are out just waiting to be discovered. know that my heart is open and ready for you. i choose you. i invite you in."

and joy comes in.

because it is always there. even when my face frowns and my heart is heavy, it is there. i just have to open my eyes, my heart.

this truth annoys me at times. does that sound funny? well, sometimes seeking joy is not at the top of my list, but still in comes joy with its happy pink blooms and chocolate-covered goodness and its laughter and its kindreds and its silliness and its quietness and its music and its dancing.

each day, joy pushes me to know that it can be a companion to real and truth and all that happens in a life. 

joy can be my companion.

so tuesday, i found myself packing up the family in the car for a late evening trip to barnes and noble (with an oh my goodness she is getting a molar already 13 month old) because rumor had it one of my lockets had found its way into the latest somerset life. and when i sat on the bench in the magazine section and found that locket on the "things we love in life" page, i smiled widely as joy snuck in again. even though i had tried to stand inside the grumps and fears most of the day (it was one of those days), there was joy in the form of a little paragraph from christen olivarez about the locket she had purchased at the pen & paper retreat. 

hello joy.

(thank you christen and somerset life.)

today, i want to stand in the joy that comes into my life when i create these talismans of truth and send them across the world to be worn by someone in the midst of her journey. i want to honor this joy with a little celebration in the shop!

 lockets from the new current collection now in the shop

here is the scoop: spend $30 in my etsy shop and I will send you a simple soul mantra necklace as a free gift with your purchase. i will choose one for you (like one of the examples pictured below) and package it up in the hopes that it will be the message that you most need in this place on your path. i am also happy to send it (with free shipping) to a friend, if you think a friend might need a quiet, powerful message right now.

when you check out, just mention "joy" or this post in the notes to seller. (note: this isn't a coupon code. just mention this in the notes to seller box that will appear right below your items in your shopping cart.) this special is available through this sunday, july 17.

past simple soul mantras

thank you for you...for sharing your joys and truths with me...for just being out there in your corner shining your light.

with joy.filled blessings,

liz

the many faces of ellie jane (july 9)

twenty minutes on july 9

the practice

seeking the beauty in the quiet moments

we continue to really be in summer over here; there is a permission given to relax and laugh and get outside and watch movies and rest and just be a little family together. i recently wrote this in an email, "time is flying by as i am finally sinking into living after so many months of survival mode. i didn't even realize i was still in it until i was out of it." it does feel like we are coming out of hiberation after months of worry and so so many doctor's appointments and how the list goes on. ellie continues to be doing great overall...growing...hopefully growing out of her other two heart issues. time will tell as always.

i have been thinking about this idea of how sometimes we don't even realize we are in survival mode until we are out of it. how the body and mind adjust to what must be done. how we protect ourselves in order to focus on what seems to be or is important. how my mind can distract me with its swirling, twirling ways. how this little grey with an apple on top box of wonder that holds worlds can distract me too. but then something will shift to quiet my mind. there will be a slowing down...a noticing...an invitation to be right here.

as i work on some current projects (including the i-am-so-excited-about-this content for emerge), i am observing how my practice of trying to be right here through photography and writing and creating in my studio and reading poetry and taking a breath or two or three has given me a map of sorts to get through the times of survival mode.

this idea of having a practice that you work with (as much as possible) daily means you practice on the good days where you have so much energy and your outlook is "hello world. bring it." it means you practice on the days when you stay in your pajamas and eat ice cream for breakfast. and again on the days when it rains and hails and when the sun shines so bright you have to leave the grumps behind. you practice on those usual sort of days so that when you suddenly encounter a day that finds you in a hospital or standing next to the phone after hearing something that has changed life forever or walking the path of grief and loss and sadness or even when you have just had a simple shift that confuses you or when something beautiful is going to take you on an adventure and you fear you will not find your way...

you practice so that when you encounter those "i have no idea where i am" sort of days, you will find a bit of light because you will see that hand in the darkness in the form of your practice. you will find light as you take a photo that captures the realness of a moment. you will find light as your write down every word that lives inside your fear. you will find light inside a poem written by someone else from another time who pushes you to know you are not alone. you will find light inside sitting in the quiet and letting the space around your heart grow with each breath.

you practice to begin to notice the beauty, the joy, the truth that is (always) there.

you practice to find the light. 

you practice.

you practice.

i stood tall

as the evening sun created a face-to-face meeting of one, i stood tall remembering that light can be found in the rootedness.