a family self-care (smash) journal

 

Yesterday, I was talking with a friend about the idea I have that so often we are triggered by another's blog or Facebook post etc. because we fill in the blanks of what someone doesn't share in these posts with our assumptions. (I talked about this idea in this February post.) We were talking about how we can think that someone's life is a certain way because she doesn't ever talk negatively about this or that or that someone's life must be so perfect because she is doing so much or "makes it look easy." 

A simple example: Sharing photos of your happy smiling family doesn't mean that everyone is always happy and smiling. But, it would be a bit odd to begin taking photos "for your blog" during an argument, wouldn't it? Yet somehow when we see these smiling happy photos on a day when our own family might not be smiling or happy, we might find ourselves triggered and thinking "well, my life isn't like hers because she has it so easy + a book deal + cuter clothes + a better camera [or fill in some other similar thought here.]"

My point in sharing this today is that over here, we are navigating the experience that is a marriage in the midst of toddler world + a growing business (and not enough childcare) + other things that are real life things and too personal to share here. In some ways, I touch on these things in my posts, but really, this is a story that involves more than just me and many pieces of it feel too personal for this space.

That said, I really want to begin to share (as an accounting of myself of sorts) some of the ideas we are implementing to support one another a bit more over here. Ideas that are about leaning into living and figuring out how to let in more light + love in the harder moments. 

A few weeks ago, I gently pushed Jon on the idea that he doesn't have many self-care moves. And you know me, I am all about the self-care. But, I do know from experience that it isn't easy to implement simple self-care practices if you don't know where to begin.

So we've started a family Smash journal.

 We are beginning to fill it with sections on adventures we want to take, go-to meals + recipes we want to try, solo adventure ideas for both Jon and me, and self-care ideas for Jon. There is a section called "home" that will include lists of things we need to do but also a few lists of what we wish and dream for our little home. We are making lists of things to do with EJ when it rains and when we are exhausted but she isn't (for real - this will be a good one). And this weekend I hope to make a list of dates we would like to go on.

I've also started a "Summer Manifesto" inspired by Ali and Andrea, and I'll share it soon.

I want this journal to be a resource for Jon and me because the truth is that sometimes it is easier to focus on "getting through" instead of living deeply. For example, on the days when I don't eat before Ellie gets up and then her needs (and business stuff) takes over and then suddenly she is napping and I find myself still in pajamas and nauseated from hunger...yeah...those days are more intense than they would be if I just spent a few moments bringing more awareness into the day and into what I need. And I see Jon adopting similar patterns when he is on break from work. Sometimes we need pajama days, but we've noticed that life is softer when we bring in more awareness and, well, fun.

I will share more about this journal as we keep using it, but today, I just wanted to share the idea in case you want to create a space to hold your "go-to" family self-care moves. (We are using the orange Smash journal because it seems to have more blank pages than the other colors, which makes it nice for lists.)

May your weekend be full of lightness and good things and rest,

Liz 

strawberries and soul mantras

new necklaces in the shop

Last Wednesday, I stood at the kitchen sink cutting strawberries while Ellie was eating them almost as fast as I could cut them for her. While getting into that rhythm of quartering them, I had a series of thoughts that went like this, “Maybe we could go to the Farmers’ Market Saturday. Wonder what they will have. Flowers! Maybe this could be the first Saturday in a long line of Saturdays that we get out and have this time as a family. She is so inquisitive. She will love picking out veggies and fruit this summer! And seeing the dogs…. Crap! I have so much to do this weekend. We can’t go to the Farmers’ Market. I have too many custom orders to make and emails to answer.”

And just like that, I dismissed my desire to live deeply and widely with my family.

I didn’t listen to this clear voice in my head telling me what I need and want and went back to the reality I was creating in that moment about not being in charge of my own business.

And then this weekend I spent an hour photographing some lockets + soul mantra pendants I have been meaning to put in the shop for weeks. These are the pieces I have been making alongside the many custom orders I’ve been doing over the last few months. These are the phrases and words that have literally whispered to me and insisted on being included in the batch I was working on. Phrases like: 

You Are Enough
Love Big
So I Fly
Each Day I Open Up More
I dance. I love big. I live.
Live It Baby Girl
Seek Joy
I choose love
Connect
Breathe
See Your Light
Trust
Here 

And as I opened each one, placed it on the rock I use as a prop, and snapped the photo of the mantra inside, I found myself saying the phrases aloud. And then nodding: yes yes yes.

This piece of realizing you have gotten a bit lost in the business of things and forgetten about the business of living – that is where I found myself as I took those photos.

I started thinking about how going to the Farmers’ Market (and all that it represents) is the most important thing a Saturday morning (and all that it represents) should hold. I know this. I would tell you this if you came to me with this as a piece of your story.

And now it is time to live it more often.

Things have been shifting with my business for almost a year now. I have owned my call to teach + write more and poetry is taking center stage again. I am listening to my desire to start adding mentoring sessions to my offerings (thank you for asking for this! more details soon!). And I am leaning into the truth that superwoman can do anything but she can’t do everything*.

Oh and I am realizing I don’t want to superwoman. 

The first step has been to change how I run the shop. I am not taking custom orders for the next few months. Probably until the holidays. The shop will still be filled with Soul Mantra jewelry, but they will almost all be ready to ship, “what you see in this photo is what will arrive in your mailbox,” items. They will be the phrases that are most insisting to be in this world, and I hope you will enjoy them!

Go see! I’ve already stocked the shop with several of these new pieces. 

Thanks for reading all of this today as I wanted to share these pieces of my story in case you have pieces of your story that need to shift. In case you want an invitation to shift your schedule to make more time for Farmers’ Markets and all that your heart is telling you it needs…

Big love,

Liz

PS If you or someone you know is a virtual assistant who works with Etsy shops, please email me. I am looking for someone with administrative experience supporting Etsy artists. Thanks!

*When I was little, this saying (superwoman can do anything but she can't do everything) was up in my house above my mom's desk. 

the realness of here

Left (Wednesday mid-morning) :: in this moment, this is what motherhood looks like: Tired. Grateful. A bit scared. A lot optimistic. Overwhelmed. Present. Real. Holding on to joy. 

Right (Wednesday late-afternoon) :: here: adele. hot tea. getting ready to chat with my coach. it's good. yep. I got this.

The photos + words above are glimpses into two moments in my world yesterday. I love that they really are an illustration of how things go around here. One moment can be full of so much worry and exhaustion and aloneness and thank goodness she is napping. Another later in the day can be full of big dreams and a certainty that I am going to make them real.

And a lot of the time that certainty of yesterday afternoon seems impossible to find.

And sometimes I feel lonely like I did yesterday morning.

But neither of these photos illustrates exactly how it is around here or how I feel all the time.

They are glimpses into my world. Glimpses into the realness of working from home + being a mom/caregiver throughout the day and trying to figure out how to ask for help and trying to find my way and how the list goes on. They are glimpses into the beauty and the shit. They are just glimpses that tell pieces of the story. For the whole story, well, you would have to move in and I still probably wouldn't tell you everything.

Today, the following words are really just tumbling out of me and even though I feel a bit uncertain about sharing, I am going with it:

In my corner here, I try to just tell stories. Sometimes the stories are full of joy and other times they might be a glimpse into grieving. I might share poem notes, bits about motherhood, and how I am using my new favorite journals. And sometimes I tell these stories through my jewelry, my workshops, and my retreats.

I mostly try to pay attention to my life
so that I feel less crazy
and less alone.

And the tools I usually use to share how I pay attention are my camera and my pen or laptop.

This is just how I do it. There really is no right or wrong way to share your stories online or in other ways.

And in this moment, I have to admit to feeling a bit defensive after noticing a trend of blog posts that seem to invite those of us trying to find the beauty in the present moment or trying to notice the simple things to feel like we are trying to show the world that life is perfect.

This practice of being right here...of noticing the moment and how I feel and choosing to sometimes walk right to the mirror and look myself in the eyes so that I feel less alone...well, this is how I get through.

And something tells me that a lot of other people (perhaps all of us) are doing what they do to get through too.

When Jon and I saw Anne Lamott speak last Friday night, she talked about how people who talk about "being present" and breathing or people who say things like "Let go and let God" sometimes make her feel like taking a fork and stabbing them in the forehead like a baked potato. That moment was so funny. Everyone laughed. She said it with such conviction that I am still laughing about it as I type this. I am with her on the platitudes that people seem to need to say, especially when saying things they think God would tell us, as though they are speaking for God. 

But as I was laughing, I was also very aware of her use of the words "be present."

Then she said, "But it turns out breath was part of the way home." 

And I started crying.

Because this is what it is to me. This is what it is all about. Finding my way home. Letting the breath, letting a power greater than me, letting my own wisdom hold the space for what I most need.

When I take a photo like the iPhone self-portraits above, I find my breath and I find my way back to me just for that second. And for that moment, I let go of so much and just observe what is really happening. When I pair the photo with words like I did in both of these moments above, I can drill right down to what I am feeling, and often, I uncover what I know. And I can't avoid it because I am staring back at me.

Self-portraits are really like a prayer for me.

When I try to find beauty in the midst of the everyday, it isn't about pretending life is perfect. In fact, it is really more about finding the beauty in the mess...in the piles of bills...in the toddlerness of things...in the hard stuff and the good stuff. I don't want to forget that there is love and joy and music that makes me dance each time I hear it and a really good cup of tea waiting for me even in the midst of complete uncertainty.

And each time I share in this corner, it is just a glimpse. It is just me reaching out hoping someone will nod and say, "Me too." It is just me wanting someone to see me and wanting you to know you are not alone. 

(Thanks for reading.)

[Edited to add: After reading laney's comment, I realize that when I talked about Anne Lamott above, I really did pull this section of her talk out of context, and if I were Ms. Lamott, I might would be a bit annoyed with me. And if you are not familiar with her writing, you might assume a lot about her based on what I share above and that would be sad. She is incredible and thoughtful and funny and really seems to just tell the truth. The context above was more about how we can feel resistent to the very thing we need. And that sometimes the way someone says it, turns us away, but then we find our way back to it. I am putting my spin on her words and really this is not what I planned to share about her talk (as I do plan to write more soon).

I have no reason to believe that she wasn't saying that she doesn't believe in the idea of "Let go and let God;" it really is more about the phrasing and the timing of when people choose to use what I call platitudes. Her words were funny in context because I think it is just so true that people try to help and so often say the wrong thing that just doesn't resonate when we are deeply in pain. I so appreciate Carol's comment about her mother-in-law telling her to just pray and how at the time it might have felt dismissive because she wanted a plan of action. Now, though, as she wrote in her comment below, she sees "when things seem overwhelming, really truly the only answer is to 'just pray' or breathe or be in the moment or offer it up to the Universe or whatever you want to call it because there is nothing left."

I hope this helps explain (or even over-explain) why I chose to pull that bit of her talk out for this piece that poured out of me Thursday. If reading it all feels clunky, well, I think that is because all the pieces I am sharing are a bit noisy and messy and unsure of where they fit. But I guess I just wanted to start the conversation instead of sitting silently over here.]

*****

Deeply inspired by Darrah's post about the realness of the first few months of motherhood and Jen's post about "a life in progress" and Erika's post at Shutter Sisters about how "your life is newsworthy."

here

a post is brewing inside me about the realness of working from home while taking care of a toddler full time and running a business that is really more than a full time job. a post about the lifelines i hold onto some days. a post about why i really invite you to let go (for real this time) of thinking the people you see online "do it all." a post about how some days find me vacuuming with a toddler eating cheerios strapped to me. a post about how going to the bathroom by myself sometimes seems like it has become a luxury. a post about how sometimes i drive around my neighborhood drinking a hot chai tea and talking with a friend because my daughter is napping in the backseat and i don't want to hang up yet. a post about how just when i think "i got this" the overwhelms arrive again. a post that is just about the realness of things so that i can remind myself that choosing self-care (like i did last week when i closed the shop during my ecourse's "breathing space" week to give myself some breathing space too) is the right choice...so i can remind myself of what i know...

and i wanted to write that post tonight. 

but then there was this photo from today.

this photo of a little girl who has her head on her daddy's chest. a little girl who wants to go outside even when it is freezing because there are birds and trees and so much to do and see. a little girl who giggles and then gets so frustrated in the next breath that i can't help but wonder what will happen when that frustration is finally paired with words. a little girl who looks at me like no one has ever looked at me before. a little girl who runs down the hall and wraps her arms around my legs when i get done with a marathon brainstorming skype session because she just can't believe i am finally back. a little girl who touches her chest and my chest when i say, "where is love?"

there can be both you know. there can be deep deep love and frustration about the realness of it all. you can hold both at once. you can hold both the beauty and shit.* 

this is the way of life i think. 

*i just can't come up with another word. this phrase, the beauty and the shit, is one i have been using with my friends for a while now. i basically want to name my next ecourse "the beauty and the shit" but i know that won't really resonate with everyone. at the same time, i think you probably know exactly what i mean when i say it. life is full of beauty and shit. it is full of moments that take our breath away because they are incredible and because they are so so hard. and we get through. and we find our breath again. and there is love. and we hope there is more love than shit. and it is okay to see all of it and tell the truth about all of it too.

today

today was full of a lot of things. ellie's first high fever. me still feeling very under the weather with this chest cold. ellie crying just because when she would usually be laughing or trying to run even faster down the hall. lots of disney junior and apple juice and bowls of peas. answering emails here and there. lots more cuddling than usual. me trying to choose kindness but failing. me wearing the same clothes as yesterday that i also wore to bed...oh wait...maybe i changed into different yoga pants but this shirt has all kinds of living on it...and you know i am sick when i am wearing one of jon's sweatshirts over my whole ensemble. a friend calling to say, "it is probably just a cold" and talking me down from my fear of "but what if it sets off the heart arrhythmia and i can't go to the picu with her because i have a cold?" listening to an awesome interview with meryl streep while working during her nap. watching this paul simon on sesame street video on repeat because every time it ended ellie would make the sign for "more" which usually means more cheese or more juice but today meant more paul (i adore her). talking on skype with my mom, and ellie instigating peek-a-boo with her (the first time ellie has really interacted in such a clear way while we are on skype...it was awesome). reading alexander and the terrible horrible no good very bad day to ellie because well, parts of yesterday and today have felt a bit like that and after she rubbed hand sanitizer into her eyes not long after falling/tripping a few times because she keeps trying to run even though she doesn't feel well...well... i thought we both needed to hear those words and she sat listening to the entire story.

and in the middle of all of it, when her fever broke, she insisted on going outside (which means she brought her boots to me and then stood at the sliding glass door pointing to the outside saying her version of "now") and so out we went for a bit. the sky was blue and the weather was warm and there were so many birds chattering and eating and milie ran and ran in the yard and ellie ran with her for a bit and i found myself suddenly face to face with the cherry tree stretching toward spring.

how about that? even while overwhelm swirls and worry tries to pitch a tent at the edge of things and my body insists on rest and i sometimes forget to choose love and the to do list is still just as long, spring is still on her way.

how are things in your corner of the world? what are you noticing today?

enough(ness)

a glimpse into evening work + play

This week is full of days that are "just us girls." Work has Jon away many evenings and unexpectedly out of town all day Saturday. This means the overwhelm continues to wait in the wings, hoping for its cue. As I sit with the reality that a cold arrived last night and has decided to stay for a bit, I am sifting through my self-care moves to see what might work for me today as I know I have to cross off things on my "must be done today" to-do list.

As I mentioned in my video post earlier this week, I have been thinking a lot about this illusion people have when they ask, "How do you do it all?" I am still not sure what "it" is exactly, but this is what I am thinking about this morning: A big part of this illusion of someone else "doing it all" has to do with how someone observing another fills in the cracks with assumptions.

And in the blogging/social networking world many of us "live" in, the observations another makes are just a tiny slice of what is real. Just a tiny slice of what someone puts out into the world. And we put our own spin on what we see and read and hear as it goes through our own filter. I think part of what pushes people away from connections that are made in this blogging community is that they feel the weight of the assumptions others are making about them, and perhaps, even more than that, they feel the weight of the assumptions they are making about others.

As I hear Ellie stirring and begin to slip into yet another role I will play today, I want to echo the words I said in Tuesday's video because I need to write them here to remind myself: Being enough does not mean doing everything. Being enough does not mean doing it all.

Let's be gentle with one another today. Let's be gentle with ourselves. Let's release our grip on the shoulds and the assumptions. Let's listen to what we most need and love ourselves so that we can live from a place of open-hearted love as we move about the world. Let's try to live from a place where we believe the people we meet, where we believe we, are already enough.

creating space for overwhelm

Yesterday was a day full of overwhelm, and as I found myself practicing self-care in many ways today, I wanted to share a few of the thoughts that led me from there to here. (You will see the video is in two parts because of an interruption in the middle and then Ellie makes an appearance at the end, which still has me laughing just a bit.)

In the video, I mention Jen Lee's new Iconic Self Home Retreat Kit and I am wearing the "you don't have to be so good" t-shirt that is part of the Iconic Self. I am just diving into the conversation between Jen and Phyllis Mathis that takes place over four CDs, and I will share more about my experience with this kit soon. (so so good)

(And I can't help but tell you that the wall behind me used to have three huge bookcases on it that we moved last week while my mom was here. and now it is a blank canvas for some photos I have been wanting to put up for a long time. Can't wait to show you more as I keep making this house into the home we most want live in.)

*****

This week, I am readying the Create Space classroom for the session that begins this Sunday. I am so grateful for the opportunity to have these conversations about how we can create space for all that we feel and experience and how we can honor who we are, where we have been, and where we want to go.

I want to share what Stephani, a participant from the last session, said in response to one of the lessons in the course:

I've never really asked myself, "What do you need today, kid?" I know what I want, but have never given myself real permission to give it voice and to allow it to be real and not a dream of "one day, maybe some time in the future." Such emotion has filled me today because I believe I CAN, instead of wondering IF I can. This practice for me personally has lifted a layer of self-doubt, negative talk and given me the motivation to throw out my beautiful box of excuses with tomorrow's trash…I truly am where I need to be right now.

You can read a few more testimonials over on the Create Space page. Registration is ongoing until class begins next week.

Blessings and light,

Liz

on making a home

me circa 1979

My mom and her partner Steve are visiting this week and we are doing some major rearranging and organizing and other good things around here. As I watch her with Ellie Jane, I can't help but think about my own grandmother and my own childhood and wonder what my mom must be thinking sometimes as she steps into this role of grandmother while watching her baby girl be a mother.

Thinking about that caused me to look through a few old photos tonight and there was this one. Me about three I think standing in the middle of the family room on Garland Circle. If I close my eyes and find my breath, I can travel back and feel the texture of that sofa and the nubby rug beneath my feet. I can see all the books lined up on the built-in shelves behind me and feel the smooth then bumpy spines of those green and maroon hardcovers. I can remember sitting right on that window seat singing Kenny Rogers' songs into my Fisher Price cassette player that would record my voice. I can see my dad sitting in that green chain and hear my mother humming along with Simon and Garfunkle in the kitchen. I can remember staring at those Norman Rockwell's and wondering about those two old men who must be friends. And then of course there was that odd statue. And then all those gorgeous pillows my mom made that she got rid of a few years ago that we now both wish she hadn't. And those windows. And the screened-in porch. And the coziness of that room and how there was just so much to see and take in and learn.

This is the house I dream about when my mind is quiet enough for me to remember. This is the house I walk through in my mind. This is the house I want to step back into and memorize and live in again just for a moment.

I am sitting with these memories tonight as I think about what matters to me when making a home and how letting go of emotional clutter in 10 bags to Goodwill felt like loosening my clutch on a getting too small shawl wrapped around me labeled grief. I am thinking about how beautiful it is to loosen that clutch on the roles I thought I played or how I assumed things would be. And loosening my grip on self-loathing in the form of being so angry with myself for clutter and holding on and trying to find my way to healing through buying too many bags of vintage lace or another blanket for Ellie that I just wanted her to have just in case something happened...

Loosening that grip lets the light in.

When we get done with this house this week, there is going to be so much light.

There is going to be a home full of light.

Yes.