home. savoring.

backyard blanket fun

the sound of millie walking through the halls

the feel of my own pillow under my cheek

the happy pink flowers still blooming in pots

being part of Hannah's The Joy Up (still a bit of time to join us)

watching the olympics

just enough shade and slight breeze to stay cool when it's hot

unexpectedly finding peanut m&ms in the cupboard

huge juicy sweet local strawberries

poetry being shared in a safe, open space

ideas flowing while flying and unable to grab a pen but still remembering them hours later

finding a space of ease between us

watching her sniff the peppers, squash, tomatoes, and mushrooms and then put them back without taking a bite (we hadn't purchased them yet, so this was a good move)

knowing that in a few weeks i will be unpacking my creative world into a new studio space

***

i saw a note on facebook this weekend about how sometimes social media can invite us to feel like we aren't doing enough cool things or hanging out with enough cool people and so on. i get this; i really do. but that feeling that comes up, i believe what we do with it is a choice.

today, i invite you to just make a list of what you are savoring or what you love in your home or your favorite moments from the last week. just make a simple list and let go of comparing and just notice and choose to live inside this moment...

nourish (over at chickadee road)

This month, Kelly and I are exploring this question over at Chickadee Road. Head over to this post to share the ways you nourish yourself with all of us circling over there. We give each other such a gift when we share our stories and create space to learn from one another. Throughout the month we'll be sharing stories, recipes, guest posts, and other things inspired by this theme and we hope you'll come along.

why retreat (with kimberly kalil)

Today, I am sharing another post in a new series of guest posts from a few of the ladies who have attended my retreats over the last few years. My hope is that these posts will give you a glimpse into the Be Present Retreats and invite you to realize the importance of taking time away from your daily life to recharge, connect with your kindreds, and rekindle your creativity.

Please welcome my kindred Kimberly today. She saved the day at the first Your Story Retreat when she literally put out a kitchen fire. But more than being a superhero in the true sense, she is also a wise, real person willing to share her story so that others will learn they are not alone. I am honored to share her words with you today.

***

She screams.
Spinning, a fiery top, out of control.
She gasps.
Unable to breath. Smothered by the anger.
She melts.
Fear and sorrow oozing from her feverish abyss.
She hopes.
Palms raised, she reaches out
She believes.
Grasping for light, reverie bound.
She screams.

-She Screams, by Kimberly Kalil
Written post retreat

At the start of 2011, I didn’t eat organic.

I didn’t do yoga.

I didn’t meditate.

I couldn’t write a poem to save my life.   

I wouldn’t even call myself creative.

Looking over the Your Story Retreat description the idea of “daily group gatherings that explore meditation, ritual, and everyday sacredness as ways to be more present in your daily life,” seemed absolutely foreign to me. In fact, it seemed downright nutty. I was raised by staunchly Republican, highly religious and ultra-conservative parents. My dad hunts. He slaughters the cows he raises. And there is never any talk of Zen, Buddha or anything equally as exotic or hippie-esque.

Though I’m many years removed from my parents’ home, my upbringing colors many of the decisions I make as an adult. I’d like to think of myself as somewhat progressive and open-minded, but there are times I’m downright small-town. You can take the girl out of the conservative, but you can’t take the conservative out of the girl.

 

Signing up for the Your Story Retreat was a leap of faith. I’m not sure what prompted me to do so, other than a desperate need to find a place in the world where I could unload my aching heart. My marriage was on the rocks. Not kind of sort on the rocks, but moments away from imploding. There was rarely a day that went by that I didn’t cry. I was turning into an angry, bitter person. I had no patience and the anger I had for my husband was seeping into every aspect of my life. I was a ticking time bomb often exploding at the most inopportune times and at people who didn’t deserve my wrath, namely my children.

On the opening night of my first Your Story Retreat I broke down in tears. Liz asked us to share a bit about ourselves and why we were there. I couldn’t articulate why I was there. I couldn’t tell the group the shame, anger and isolation I felt. All I could do was cry -- big, gulping, messy tears. My whole body shook as I let go and with tears streaming down my cheeks the most amazing thing happened:  around the circle arms opened, hearts reached for me and nurturing began. I was welcomed into a tribe of amazing, strong and loving women.

My tribe told me I was awesome. They told me I was brave. The convinced me I was strong enough to make the changes that really mattered. Each word spoken was folded up and placed in the sacred space around my heart.

Over the course of the weekend my soul was fed. At some point, I heard the following words:

“We always have a choice. It’s easy to believe we are stuck. But we all have choices … It’s your story. You can write your own story. ”

I went home a different person. I was still angry. My marriage was still in jeopardy. I still felt like a major failure. But I realized that I had to take charge of my life. There was only one way for me to get better -- if I wanted to fix my family, fix my husband or fix my life -- I had to fix me.

I became a runner.

I changed my diet.

I lost 35 pounds.

I started writing more and taking on creative projects that made me happy.

I started saying no.

I moved on and left behind the things that didn’t bring me joy. At one point that included the idea of being married and making “things” work.

Magically, being the change I wanted in the world worked to bring change not just to me, but to my husband, my family and others around me.

My marriage isn’t on the rocks anymore. My relationship with my husband is better than it’s ever been.

I yell at my children less and enjoy the benefits of greater patience.

I laugh more. A lot more.

I still don’t eat organic, though I’d like to try.

I don’t do yoga, though I’m sure it would help me.

I try to mediate, though I haven’t made it a daily practice.

Sometimes I write poetry, but it still feels less me and more forced.

But, what I am is someone in charge of her own story. Each day, I wake up and I decide how my day will unfold; I decided how to react to my challenges; I decide if I will seek joy; and I decided what matters.  Before I met Liz, I felt hopeless and out of control. Today, I know I’m at the helm of my life and my story.

This is why I retreat. 

Kimberly Kalil is a mom to two precious kiddos; wife to one cool dude; busy traveling consultant; crafter; digital memory keeper; and seeker of all things creative. She and her family make their home in Southern Arizona amid the cacti and javalinas. She’s all about the hot, dry weather of the desert – the hotter the better. 

Kimberly blogs regularly about her life, memory keeping endeavors, and creative projects at www.kimberlykalil.com. Each Monday she shares a piece of digital art she created and you can download it for free in 2012.

Read other posts in the Why Retreat series here.

***

A note from Liz: This September, Mindy Lacefield, Kelly Barton, and I are working together to create an incredible adventure in the Pacific Northwest. Kelly and Mindy will be co-teaching a three-day juicy, soulful painting workshop, and I will share some of my favorite creative self-care practices through mini creative adventures in topics like poetry, self-portraiture, meditation, and a few other good things. Find out more about the Unearth Retreat over here.

here

farmer's market flowers

here: a little girl plays with cousins and giggles and runs and plays with sidewalk chalk and seems to feel at home

here: the familiar roads of my childhood

here: watermelon as a late-night snack

here: middle-of-the-night thunder cracking, lightning across the sky storm

here: we are all reminded that we exist because of those who came before us

here: "you could almost slice a knife through it" humidity and a sun that seems warmer

here: sleeping in

here: a first time in a kiddie pool, a first blanket fort, a first popsicle

here: simple moments

poem it out starts monday

A quick reminder that Poem It Out begins Monday and there is still time to join in for five weeks of poems + poetry + a few photography/self-portrait adventures.

What does it mean to POEM IT OUT? 

Life hands us so much. Our brains and bodies become so filled with information and worry and uncertainty and beauty and joy and silliness and loneliness that we can sometimes feel empty. 

And when I need to fill the well within, I turn up Mumford & Sons and dance in circles until I feel only my heartbeat. I take a self-portrait to remind myself I am not disappearing. I call a friend. I sit and just try to breathe. I eat a dark chocolate peanut butter cup from Trader Joe’s.

But when I really need to clear my mind and reboot, I poem it out.

I read a poem to feel less alone and less crazy and more in love with this moment right here and the world around me. I pull Mary Oliver, Sharon Olds, or William Stafford from my bookshelf and read out loud until the rhythm of their words quiets my breathing and I feel space within again. 

I turn to the blank page to write a poem to unearth the moments that make up all of who I am and where I have been and what I have seen. Sometimes I try to drill right down to the truth and the pain and the beauty so that I will not forget. Other times, I just write a few words that make me happy and bring in lightness and silliness and remind me of my grandmother’s laughter. 

When I poem it out, I find my way back to me.

Find out more about Poem It Out and register here.

catching the gratitude and the everyday

Today, I want to share one way that I'm using the lens of gratitude to catch a few of the everyday stories around here.

Back in April, I watched a live-streamed talk that Brene Brown was giving at Omega. In the talk, she mentioned that one common theme among people living wholeheartedly is a practice of gratitude. This might mean that they literally keep one of those gratitude journals that Oprah helped make popular in the 90s, but it could also mean that they are able to access gratitude as they move through the day-to-day stuff.

[I want to be one of those people. Even though sometimes the word gratitude bugs me. But then I remember how I've learned that gratitude isn't an invitation to say everything in your life is fine but it is an access point to joy.]

I've kept gratitude journals a few times in my life. Inspired by Sarah Ban Breathnach, the first Christmas after college I made gratitude journals for all the women in my life - from my close friends to my grandmother. In the first few pages of the journal I explained how to keep the journal (write down five things you are grateful for each day) and then I wrote a few pages of the reasons why I am grateful for that person. I remember being so happy to give them to my loved ones that I practically vibrated. They were my first truly handmade gifts since ornaments I made when I was 10.

When my grandma died, that journal came back my way. I'd like to say that she had filled the pages with her stories and everyday gratitude, but the other pages were still blank. This did not surprise me. I think this can be a difficult practice to begin and then maintain, even though the evidence is there that it can literally change your life.

Over here, when I am neck-deep in the toddler stuff and the life stuff, it can be a bit challenging to remember that sometimes moments are full of ease...that sometimes the day goes just the way I hoped...that often there is more joy than intensity. 

My mom keeps saying, "When you have a good time at a restaurant with Ellie, write it down. When she says, "Juice," write it down. When she tells you she wants to take a nap, write it down."

And when she's said this, I often think, "I'll get right on that. Right after I tackle all the other stuff that is on my list like planning next year's retreats, writing tomorrow's blog post, and trying to remember to take the clothes out of the washer before 24 hours passes and I have to rewash them."

Here's the reality though: My mom is actually inviting me to do what I already do, notice the simple moments and the beauty found within them, but to come at it with more awareness to how much Ellie is growing each day so that when the day has more frustration than ease, I can still see the bigger picture. (When you have a toddler, your world can get really really small.)

When I was having one of my "okay, maybe I could start writing this down in more of a mindful way" moments, I came across the new "documenting" section at Paper Coterie and found this "Daily" journal. 

At first I thought I might be making just be another excuse to get another journal (ahem), but the simple layout intrigued me as did the ability to personalize it. I added my own photos (there are a few different photo spreads inside like the one at the top of this post) and I was able to remove the quote in the inside cover and add my own words. 

And I've been using it for a few weeks now. I keep it out in the living room so I can grab it at the end of the day when Jon is reading to Ellie, and I just make a simple list of what today looked like. Everything from the bliss of taking a nap when she does to the joy of a meal with all of us together at the table to honest statements like, "Today was kind of crap as the electricians left a huge mess in the backyard, but I am one day closer to having my new studio." 

What I have noticed so far is that when I see the photos on the front and inside of this simple book and I turn to the page to make my list, my mind clears just a bit. I begin to breathe from my heart, and I come back to myself. Plus, the notes are a great place to find stories to add to Project Life.

Edited to add: And this is what I know: If you peek in over here at my site you know that I notice and document the everyday through my photos and words, whether on my blog, at Flickr and Instagram, and through other projects I do. It is kind of my thing (as my new website tagline suggests). But there is something about documenting in a simple list that is helping me, the mama of a two year old, drill down to the even simpler moments to celebrate: when she uses words, when Jon and I connect through just sharing a bowl of popcorn, when Millie rolls her eyes at Ellie...the even simpler moments that push me to know we are doing okay over here. Sometimes you just need a simple list.

Do you keep a gratitude journal or daily list of sorts? How? What do you use? I'd love to know.

***

This weekend, Paper Coterie is having a pretty incredible "Christmas in July" sale on gift cards; the intention being that you buy gift cards now knowing you will be purchasing holiday gifts (like cards or other fun things) in a few months. You can use them for anything on their site. I'm thinking about creating a few new gratitude journals and sending them out into the world to my kindreds this holiday season. 

Note: Because I'm using several of their products almost everyday, I decided to become an affiliate for Paper Coterie, which means the links to their site are affiliate links. 

a poem

I'm sharing a poem over on Chickadee Road today.

You can read it over here...

around here

in the kitchen tonight

Around here, I can almost hear the kitchen calling me...I long to cook more. I am hungry for meals made from fresh food that we eat together at our table. Even though I want to just dive in (like I tried to do in January), I'm starting slowly. Last night was a simple pasta dish. This morning I want to make toast with an egg in the middle because I've been craving it since reading Tara's post. [When trying to find a recipe, since I thought I needed a recipe, I discovered this dish is called "Toad in the Hole" by many. Crazy. Pinned this recipe.] 

Around here, Ellie is obsessed with shoes. My shoes. Her shoes. Daddy's shoes. She tries them on. She puts them on the wrong feet. She giggles. She gets super frustrated. It is equal parts awesome and oh my gosh I hope she figures out how to put all her different types of shoes on soon without so much frustration. 

Around here, I am continuing to update my website. If you read in a reader, I hope you will come over and look around. The colors of this site feel like home. And I have a new banner that I LOVE that was designed by Liz Kalloch. She did such a beautiful job with the design of the pieces of The Gift of This Moment, and I love how she integrated those designs in the banner. The photo in the banner was taken by Vivienne McMaster. More photos and more about our photoshoot soon.

Around here, I'm counting down the days until we start construction on the garage that is going to become my studio/office. Everything is going to change around here when this mama is able to go out of the house to go to work...even if out of the house just means to the backyard. I can't wait.

Around here, I'm adding a few new pieces to my offerings, including mentoring sessions that I'll start scheduling later this summer. Find out more details over here.

Around here, I'm staying open to creating space for more community...in-person community. Ever since it was the topic of last week's Inner Excavate-along discussion, I've found myself seeing different ways to connect more here. I'm kind of giddy about it.

Around here, the rhythm of summer seems to have finally arrived even if it has been cool enough to wear flannel pajama pants to bed.