dear girl...

A piece of building the bridge between your daily life and the life you long for is cultivating an inner dialogue so you can actually listen to and get to know the one person who affects your day most of all: You.

One way I do this is to write letters to myself that are full of the kindness and wisdom I'd share with someone I love. They are sometimes a pep talk. Sometimes I ask myself a question and then answer it. Sometimes they are a bit like a poem. Other letters are full of forgiveness and deep truths.

Putting pen to paper helps me make sense of the swirling thoughts around and inside me so that I can hear myself.

One of my favorite prompts to give women is to start a letter that simply says, "Dear girl..." and then just start writing the words you most need to hear. Before you begin, you might want to pause and just close your eyes and get present in your body, heart, and mind. Letting the day drop away so you can listen. Then open your eyes and start writing.

See what comes up. Try to let go of judgment and keep your pen moving across the page. 

Then when you're done, notice if there are any themes or specific phrases that stand out to you. Those phrases could become prompts for your next letter.

If you'd like to come along for 10 days of cultivating this inner voice alongside practicing creative-self care, come along to Water Your Mama Soul. Registration for this ongoing course is open.

This course is really is for anyone who wants to connect with daily practices they can use to ground themselves in the midst of whatever a day brings. So if you've been struggling to find a self-care practice, this class will give you tangible ideas you can start using. I think of it as a class that invites you to realize you can nurture and mother yourself even as you give to those around you. Note though that the theme of the course is for mamas with kids at home, and most of the women taking the class will probably be mothers, but I believe the themes in the stories I share are universal and you will be able to tweak the practices to be able to join in. 

Learn more about Water Your Mama Soul and register right here.

building a bridge in the space between

This morning, I'm in that quiet space of holding the stories from the past few months that I haven't shared here and the desire to let them all tumble out. It's this space of being "almost there" and feeling like I'm on the cusp of bursting with all that I want make happen. So I'm starting this post with that peony above because 1) I can't stop with all the peonies all the time right now and 2) It is like a visual of how I feel inside.

As I shared with my newsletter subscribers earlier this week, last weekend I visited my mom, and we did a pretty amazing deep dive into my business. I've been looking at where I've been, what I've created, and the ways I share it all with you. I've been having hard conversations and really exciting ones. And I can't wait to tell you more about it through some new blog posts and my newsletter.

One thread that runs through my business that has come forward through these conversations (and the work I've been doing during the last few months): I want to help you build a bridge between what daily life looks like and the life you most want to for yourself (and those around you...and the world). If you follow me over on Instagram, you're seeing some peeks at how I'm doing this over here.

And I'm doing it one move at a time.

Sometimes one move looks like sitting in the backyard with Ellie as we slide beads onto wire and eat strawberries and chat about how we can invite in more kindness. And for 10 gorgeous minutes, she just stays present and calm. During moments like this, I capture a photo and imagine that I'm sitting on the bridge between daily life and my own longings and I'm dangling my feet over the edge and choosing to see the beauty, knowing it might be fleeting because life is unpredictable with a four year old.

Sometimes this move looks like slogging through a metaphorical overgrown meadow with weeds as high as my waist as I somehow keep walking and cross items off the to-do list and try not to lose it or use that tone of voice that triggers everyone (including me) and I just keep taking one breath, one step, repeat. And then somehow there's a pause in it all and I'm able to remember I have go-to moves to reconnect me with joy. So I choose to turn up some music and twirl and find myself again. But even though twirling might be involved, it isn't always easy.

Sometimes this move looks like just standing right here. Hand to my heart. Taking five deep breaths.

And sometimes this move is a big one, like choosing to rebrand my website (coming soon!) and asking my husband on a date (for real).

My hope is to be a guide for you as you move closer to your own longings, closer to having more really good days in the midst of whatever life hands you, closer to seeing the beauty even when it storms.

And one way I want to do this is through my new Back to the Basics one-on-one offering. It's in the Beta Testing phase right now, but I'll be opening it to you next month. If you want a sneak peek and to sign up to get first dibs on the handful of spots I'll be opening, head over here.

As you walk through your day in your corner, I hope you'll spend some time thinking about the bridges you're building. What would it feel like to let go of "all or nothing" when it comes to making shifts in your life? What if the moments when we realize things aren't working are actually clues to how we can tweak the way we're building the bridge between our day-to-day lives and the dreams inside us? What if you could live your dreams into reality one move at a time?

These are the conversations I want to have with you.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

30 ways to invite in more joy

 

Here's the thing about joy: Sometimes it arrives like unexpected laughter or a hummingbird peeking at you through the kitchen window or a note in the mail just because or an exquisite turn of phrase in the novel you're reading late at night.

And sometimes you have to work at finding it in your everyday life.

It's like a muscle you need to flex and move and notice and use. 

That's why I often talk about it as being a practice. You have to practice seeking joy, creating space for joy, opening up to joy.

You have to make joy in your everyday life. 

Here are 30 ways that I dive into joy that I hope will help you get started with this practice. And here's the part where I say I hope you'll pick one today and give it a try. And then try another one tomorrow. And then make your own list. 

Yes.

1. Lip sync to Johnny Cash.

2. Go outside and listen to the birds sing.

3. Put on your favorite shoes and take yourself out for coffee.

4. Text a friend.

5. Watch Kid President.

6. Donate to your favorite charity.

7. Turn up "Shake It Off" and jump around until your insides rattle a bit.

8. Call your mom and tell her you love her (or call your BFF and do the same).

9. Write down 10 things you're grateful for.

10. Make soup (or some other favorite comfort food).

11. Write a love letter.

12. Head to the water, to the woods, to the strip of green in front or behind your home, and notice five beautiful things.

13. Ask your Facebook friends to tell you one good thing about their day.

14. Write a thank you note.

15. Go to a yoga class (or push yourself to do something you love that isn't at work or home and involves just being around others).

16. Check out your favorite children's book from the library and read it aloud (to yourself or someone else).

17. Eat a cupcake (or an apple).

18. Give yourself a superhero name.

19. Look at yourself in the mirror and say "I am whole. I am worthy. I am loved."

20. Sing a favorite childhood song with zeal (maybe join in with Kermit.

21. Find a dandelion and make a wish.

22. Watch your favorite movie (or even just a favorite scene).

23. Make a list of all the ways your grade school teachers changed your life.

24. Go through a carwash and pretend you're on an adventure.

25. Draw a map of your childhood hometown complete with labels of the most important places to your 8-year-old self.

26. Write a list of your favorite things.

27. Ask someone you love to tell you that story that always makes you both laugh so hard.

28. Take off your shoes and stand up (or just put your feet on the floor) and feel your toes and your heels and thank the earth for supporting you and keeping your grounded.

29. Give someone flowers (and maybe keep one stem just for you).

30. Ask for a hug. (And maybe even open your arms wide right now. Yes, right now. Open them wide. Breathing and feeling that space. And then wrap them around yourself in a hug that says, "You aren't alone honey. I've got you.)

How do you invite in more joy? Please share in the comments so we can keep the list going.

every maker needs a mentor

I'm so excited to share that I'm a mentor at the Maker Mentors (online!) conference this week!!!

Maker Mentors is a live online conference for creative business owners. They have brought together some of the smartest business experts and best creative business owners together to create a unique experience for you.

And the conference is happening this week! May 14th-16th

Everyone who signs up gets access to 20+ live sessions with creative business experts, an interactive forum, and tons of resources to help you grow your business. Don't worry if you can't make it live. All of the content is recorded so you can access it anytime.

I'm delighted by this recognition that every maker needs a mentor. So many of us feel a call to turn what we make into a business, and yes, the resources online are vast and helpful. But it can also be difficult to figure out how to wade through all of that information and hone in on how to actually live this dream into reality.

Maker Mentors is looking to close that gap so you can learn from people who've really been there. And you can learn this from your own home.

Awesome!

Discount Code: I'm happy to share that there's a special discount code for readers of my blog! Use code LIZLAMOREUX for $50 off your conference fee. (Note that when you use the discount code, I receive a small affiliate fee for being part of the conference.)

Hope to see you there!

this is my practice.

The "My Practice" necklace is your chance to think about what you currently want to invite into your life and claim it with a hand stamped word paired with kyanite and amethyst to really support you as you stand tall in the life you want to live.

This is the necklace I've been wearing for the last few weeks. Mine is hand stamped with the word "allow," which has become one of those words that keeps appearing in my life. Allowing all the feelings. Allowing for the possibility that I can choose to make little moves each day toward the life I want. Allowing those around me to show up as them just as I want to show up as me. Allowing for more abundance, more love, more in-person connection, more community.

When you order this necklace, you choose a word that represents your current practice. Yes, this could be your word of the year, but it could also be the soul care practice you're calling in right now or even just the feeling you most want in your life. Perhaps you have begun to notice, like I did, a word that keeps appearing again and again and is almost demanding that you pay attention, so you feel called to bring it into your life in this tangible way.

After I hand stamp you word/short phrase on this brass bar, it is then paired with a gorgeous wire wrapped kyanite teardrop gemstone to invite in clear communication and to help you speak whatever you need to say as you live this practice. And a sweet little faceted amethyst is added to invite in a sense of balance, peacefulness, and calm. These three special pieces hang from a thick brass jump ring to give you a gorgeous focal point for your practice.

I imagine you reaching for this necklace and holding it when you need to be reminded that you know the next step you want to take. Yes yes yes.

You can find the limited edition My Practice necklace right here.

peonies and poetry

Years ago, I used to share about poetry on Thursdays. In Hand to Heart, we've started this tradition again and today, as my love affair with the peony deepens, I feel moved to make today about poetry in this space too. They're connected for me, peonies and poetry.

Everything about the peony is waiting to appear in a poem. And Mary Oliver captures this truth so gorgeously in her poem "Peonies." An excerpt:

the flowers bend their bright bodies, 
and tip their fragrance to the air, 
and rise, 
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness 
gladly and lightly, 
and there it is again — 
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open. 

On Monday after school, Ellie and I went to Trader Joe's and there they were in the flower section, like tightly closed dreams unsure of where to begin. Ellie did not understand why I wanted to buy them. They weren't eagerly reaching for our attention like the roses she ran to when we walked in or the daises bobbing along to the music. No. They were hiding, and I had to walk all the way around the display to find them camouflaged next to the bursting with hints of summer bouquets you can give your mom this Sunday.

I told her, "These are magical flowers. I know they don't look like much right now. But, you're going to love watching them bloom."

We agreed that I'd put a couple in her room and she could keep an eye on them, so she was content to humor me.

And while she was away at school the next day, the magic began to unfold in a little bedroom with purple walls.

That evening, she was getting her pajamas out of the drawer and spotted them. "MAMA! Come quick! I can't even believe this."

Pink petals opening like a skirt twirling in slow motion.

Her face was so full of joy. Of delight. Of "how is this even possible?"

Now, when she gets home from school, she rushes to her room to see if they've opened even more, and she runs back out, grabs us each by the hand with excitement in her voice saying, "Look! Look! They're even bigger!!!" 

This morning as I watch them while the birds sing so loudly around us and the blooms seem to stretch even more before my very eyes, I hold the beauty in one hand and the knowledge that their lives are so brief in the other.

I think that perhaps the reason we're drawn to the peony like the eager bees and ants that nestle inside their blooms is because it is the closest thing we have to a phoenix.

These huge heavy bursting blooms are an access point to wonder, to that unwavering truth that spring comes again even when our hearts try to convince us it won't.

("Peonies" appears in Mary Oliver's collection New and Selected Poems. I couldn't find a copyright free site to link to, but a quick search and you'll find the poem in its entirety.)

there are things i want to tell you

I want to tell you about the ways being a mother pushes me more than anything I've ever done. It knocks me around. It takes my breath away. It takes me out at the knees. It grows my heart bigger.

I want to tell you about the way I can see love float through the air whenever my daughter giggles. It's like heart-shaped bubbles surround her, surround us, and I can't help but relax into myself.

I want to tell you about the ways I'm certain that I don't know what I'm doing, the days when the questions and the shoulds and the whys stack up.

I want to tell you about the moments when I wonder why it has to be so hard, why she has to push so hard against me, against the love.

I want to tell you about the moments that are full of ease, full of more joy than one person can hold, full of certainty and wide hope.

I want to tell you about the moments when I whispered to her, "All you have to do is live. Is breathe on your own. And then you can live big in this world. You can love big. You can walk beside an elephant in Africa and discover all that you love and become a superhero and just be anyone you want to be. All you have to do is live" as the ventilator whooshed beside us.

I want to tell you about the choices I've made, the mistakes, the blunders, the parenting moves I want to redo because I'm that mom whose baby girl almost died and it can be hard to get out from under that truth.

I want to tell you about the ways I'm trying to soften inside when I think about those mistakes because she's that daughter who doesn't need to think about that almost for even a second because she's so strong and living so big in this world.

I want to tell you about feeling turned inside out while also feeling certain that "yes, even this" can be the path.

I want to tell you about the ways I don't do it all, the ways I'm plowed under by the clutter and the anxiety and the "Please don't ask me one more time if we're there yet."

I want to tell you about the ways my heart keeps stitching together as another bead slides down the string and she joins in as I chant to Ganesh and later after she's in bed he looks at me and says, "Can I hold your hand?"

But instead I'm just going to tell you that each day I'm doing all that I can to set down the pushing and the almosts and the "yes, even this" sometimes to notice the way I want it to be and the way it is, and I'm building a bridge between them where I'm going to sit and dangle my feet while I eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I'm building a bridge where I'm going to live.

Where we're going to live.

here

Here. A special package that kicks off a new project I'm starting over here inspired by Lori Portka's 100 Thank Yous Project. Getting out of the house using my Action Journals (and Staedtler pens) to kick the overwhelms to the curb. Candlyland (and this week so many rounds of Uno). Huge granny square blanket. Somehow always getting to that place of love and cuddling and just being together by the end of the day. The altar that's beside me as I chat with the ladies in my new one-on-one offering (in the beta testing phase - will be open to anyone in June!). A card that pretty much says it all (sending me a card in the mail is a way straight to my heart). Ellie's favorite evening activity has become these beads by B. Toys. A peek at the current studio altar. And I just keep rounding those corners as I granny away over here in the evenings while watching Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries on Netflix.

Gathering up photos like this is a way to really see evidence of the ways I'm living over here. It helps me to push aside the old stories and the shoulds. And it helps me see the textures and colors and rhythms of our days in this little house.