a list of stories.

Over here I have a lot of stories humming about inside me. Stories I want to share with you. Stories I want to write into a journal. Stories that are almost begging to be put inside an art journal that is patiently waiting for me to dive into. Stories that need to be put down because they are getting too heavy to carry.

When I feel full to overflowing like I do today and know that I won't be able to get to these stories right now, I have to literally make a list of them so I don't forget. The truth is that they can kind of escape when the overflowing happens. The lines and ideas that are weaving there way around my mind and heart might escape through a side door and find someone else. So I have to get something onto a page.

Sometimes I add to the list in my green Smash journal. Sometimes I literally make a list on the bathroom mirror. Sometimes I just grab any paper I can find and start writing and then tape that paper to the wall of my studio (I've learned that I must tape it up or it will get lost.)

Most importantly I remind myself over and over again that it is okay to tell the true stories. The uncertainty around this can come up when the list writing begins. I find myself pausing and thinking, "Oh not that one. I can't write about that one." 

But this is the magic of the list. It is just ideas onto the page. It is a space to hold the stories until you can unpack them into more details and into another container that will gather the details. That next container might be a blog post, a story for my newsletter, an ecourse, a story I want to tell at one of my retreats, or even pieces of a new book.

What do you do when the stories are overflowing inside? Do you make a list? Do you ignore them? Do you pretend that you don't really want to tell them? Do you just start writing, creating, painting, playing?

true stories pocket talisman in the shop

My hope for you is that you seek out the spaces where you feel safe to tell the true stories: a journal, with a friend, on a stage, on your blog, in a private community, and how the list goes on. You deserve to tell your true stories honey.

Yes.

PS Updating this to add that I love Glennon Doyle Melton's take on letting the idea go when your hands are full. So if you suddenly have a story idea appear while you are in the middle of something in your life that needs you more than the story does, it's okay to let it go into the wind. Maybe it will come back to you; maybe it will move on. Believing in abundance is a very good thing.

the choice to be right here

Last night she curled up in bed with me and put her cheek against mine, using my face almost like a pillow, because she said she just couldn't get close enough to me. "You're just so cuddly Mama Kitty. I love how cuddly you are."

And I made the choice to just stay right there, listening to her breathing, feeling her body snug against mine. 

She should have been sleeping. Her bed time was 90 minutes before this moment. She's in a phase of not wanting to go to bed. Each night she tries on various techniques all with the purpose of spending more time with us. Writing it out like that, it sounds so sweet. But it has been intense. And I keep trying on different ways to be a parent. And some nights I feel my patience and Jon's thin as we crave even just five minutes to ask each other "How are you?" and have the space to answer with adult words.

Last night, as I made that choice to just hold her closer as we were then nose to nose, our heads sharing a pillow, I said, "You can stay until Daddy comes to bed. Then you have to go sleep in your bed." I made the choice knowing tonight she will more than likely try to say she must cuddle with me or she won't be able to sleep and how the list of three-year-old excuses will go on.

But I did it anyway. 

Looking into her blue eyes. Watching the way they slowly began to close even though she insisted she wasn't tired. Feeling her arms come around my neck as she kept saying, "I just love how cuddly you are Mama." Soaking it up because she is usually on the move and so rarely wants to cuddle. Letting myself be right there, imprinting it inside me so the me of 15 years from now will be able to unpack it and hold it close on the days I'll most need it.

I've found that often just being right here is the best parenting move I've got.

(And no, that photo isn't connected to the story in this post. It is from a few weeks ago when we made another choice to just be right here and soak up a day without rain even though it was cold and there were lots of orders for me to work on and a house to clean before visitors and things on the to-do list. But this moment was such a gift. I so rarely remember to take my big camera with me these days. This photo is to remind me to keep doing it. And to keep getting them outside because we all need it so much.)

i'm learning to ask and listen

Yesterday, Ellie was sitting on my lap and asked me what my necklace said. I explained it said, "Wildness" and that it is my word of the year. I talked about how I'll be inviting in more wildness in my life. 

She nodded in that way a three year old does when she's listening and thinking and taking it in.

Then I asked her, "What is your word of the year? What do you want this year to be like for you?"

And she looked me right in the eyes and said, "My life is good and calm and kind."

"Those are the things you want to invite into your life this year?"

"Yes."

"Me too."

I think wildness and good + calm + kind are going to be fantastic companions this year.

(And pairing this story with this photo this might have been the moment I decided to get back to Project Life. Yes.)

happy 2014

Eleanor Jane :: January 1, 2014 

May your year unfold
with kindess,
light,
ease,
peace,
joy,
and love love love.

Eleanor Jane :: January 1, 2013

2011 :: 2012

We continue the tradition of the New Year's Day photo of EJ in her shirt.

This year it doesn't cover her belly, and that makes me so darn happy because she is thriving!

She's decided she must wear it all day because "Woodstocky" (as we call him for "cutes") is one of her new favorite things.

And I have to share this one too. Because it just makes me smile so big.

Happy New Year to you and yours.

I really hope this year is full of kindness and love.

over here

The last few weeks have been full and beautiful and hard and so very good. There have been incredible conversations and a trip to urgent care and deep understanding and laughter through tears and a visit from my mom and trips to Portland and wide hugs and a bit of letting go and time in a salt water hot pool. Oh yes. Beauty in one hand, messy in the other. The usual. And I look forward to sharing some stories soon. For now though I'm just going to share these peeks and take a deep breath and enjoy a dear friend who is visiting for the week and work on my holiday Soul Mantra collection and breathe in and out some more.

Soul Sisters was really wonderful. As in, you should think about putting it on your calendar for next year. I'm putting it on mine.

(Jenna took photos 1 and 7. The snippet of poetry is "Voices" by Naomi Shihab Nye from her collection Red Suitcase. It took my breath away unexpectedly last week and is now one of my favorite poems of all time.)

here

here there is the push and pull of being a three year old.

here there is laughter between old friends.

here there is exhaustion stacked right next to please let this get easier.

here there is a quiet understanding.

here there is an exquisite salad of beets + goat cheese.

here there is a new haircut that feels like home.

here there is the neverending headcold of October.

here there is support and love and an ease unfolding.

here there is another layer shedding slowly but perhaps at exactly the right pace.

yes.

(because sometimes you just need to make a list to make sense of things.)

and how are things over there? i'd really love to know. 

because...

because the re-entry after the Story Excavation Retreat has been a bit hard for me

because I'm trying to practice self-compassion even though the to-do list feels long

because joy can come in simple, unexpected ways

because it really is okay to still act like a kid sometimes (especially if you were always told you were "too serious" when growing up)

because I miss the sound of the ocean

because you are so far away

because grey skies have returned

because sometimes the words just aren't there

because everything is just a little bit better with a unicorn, don't you think?

(finally found an online source for these little guys. right here.)

water your (toddler mama) soul

Here,
a pause before the day begins.
Here,
birds insisting this day is still full of beauty.
Here,
fog and rhododendrons and so many shades of green.
Here,
tired but determined eyes.
Here,
a necklace made by little hands.
Here,
a heart holding so much.
Here,
a backyard full of blooming weeds.
Here,
a trust that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

The belief that practicing self-care in small bits of time saves me each day is why I take these photos and pair them with a few words. Sometimes the prompt is “here;” other times I’m just trying to capture the realness, the beauty in the midst of the “to-do list” and the pauses as I move between roles in my life. 

And I love thinking about the me 10 years from now (or even 10 weeks from now) looking back on these visual and written snapshots and remembering that I really was finding my way.

an invitation

Get out a piece of paper and write your own "list of here." You might repeat the word "here" like I've done, letting it begin every sentence or new thought. You might write a paragraph or a list of bullet points. You also might want to take a photo to capture this moment and pair it with your words. This practice can become a beautiful one to turn to when you need some creative self-care.

If you want to share your words, please send them my way. I would love to read them.

***

A little over a year ago, I started writing down the practices, like the "here" practice above, that I use each day to stay grounded in the midst of all the beautiful intensity that is life with a toddler. I knew I wanted to share these practices and my stories of living in the toddler mama trenches in an ecourse of some sort, but I needed to live it for another year before I found the right container.

Water Your Mama Soul is a 10 day course where you explore ways to be right here in this moment and find the space to choose love...for yourself...for those around you...for this life you're choosing to live each day. You'll take photos and journal a bit and notice what you need each day. You'll reconnect with yourself. You'll give yourself the gift of remembering you.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Register right here.

Thank you for catching my stories and showing up here to share your own.

Blessings,

Liz