January Rain

Rain in January makes me crabby. True confession. I've intentionally sought to identify the feeling it brings over the past couple of day. It isn't depression. I truly don't deal with seasonal affective issues, enjoying time outside in all kinds of weather. The sun actually was shining quite beautifully for several days at the beginning of the week. It isn't a sadness, as I still find myself quickly smiling at the thought of those I love, a funny text or Snapchat. It truly is just crabby. Like grumbling as I walk through the house, closing doors with a bit more strength than necessary, stomping to the car kind of crabby. The good news is that Noelle is very tolerant of mood swings and she is the only one that has to live with me during this crabby season.

I felt compared to share my crabbiness after a theme emerged from my social media this week. The pressure to live a life that compares with those we follow on social media. We tend to link this to the increased anxiety and mental health issues of our children and teens, but the truth is that is influencing our society in general. As I reflected on this, I thought about what I curate about the "social me". The truth, as those that know me personally will attest, is that I am a glass is 3/4 full, grateful for the life I live person by nature. Fitting for someone who seems more caffeinated from early morning than those who truly are (true story, previous boss threatened to fire me if I every took up the coffee habit. But that is a story for a different post.) I didn't share the end of my marriage, I don't post the nights when I am not only home alone but also lonely, or decided to turn off the 5 a.m. alarm and skip a morning work out. In fact, my original idea for a "gray skies" post was an uplifting, find the beauty even in this season encouragement inspired by a drive home from work in which the gray skies revealed such shades and texture I could not help but smile. Gray skies I truly do find beautiful, in all 50+ shades.

So in full transparency, I share with you my crabbiness. I have not been very smiley the past two days. I am more than a bit bitter that this rain isn't snow. It's January for goodness sake. We need softly falling snowflakes that extend the glitter of the holiday season. The challenge then, is not whether or not we never have crabby, blue or sad days. It is what with do with them. I chose to pull up my fitness app and do my circuit training at night when I skipped it in the morning. I came home from yoga this morning and made myself the same breakfast I would have made if my son were here and I wanted to share a beautiful table with him. I made myself move, and treated myself with the same care I would anyone else I love. This is true self care.  Yes, I'm still feeling crabby. But not quite so much. Noelle and I will be out on a trail this afternoon, regardless of the weather. Most likeley I will start the hike still crabby, until I bring my attention to gratitude for the opportunity to be outdoors, in a place I love. Even if I'm walking in January rain instead of snow.

Still Life- A Breakfast Composed

The beauty of still life art is it inspires a new way to view ordinary objects. Most often, still art features a combination of inanimate objects, both natural and man made. Fruit in a bowl. Flowers in a vase. Wine bottles, cheese and fruit. The form allows for the play of composition of the objects, arranging and rearranging. I was reminded of this as I sat at my dining table for breakfast this morning.

Starting my day with gratitude, purposefully identifying and reflecting on specific things to be grateful for, is my meditative practice. This image, let's call it A Breakfast Composed, represents so many items of gratitude. The more traditional images of pottery fruit bowl and butter dish are made by a family friend. The linen is from my trip to Italy last year. The cup in front of my plate was a birthday gift from my Chief Heroine, Jill,  while the cup in front of my son's plate is from a conference I participated in for several years. The tea was brewed in the new loose leaf brewing pot my son gave me for Christmas and the trivet was made for me by my brother-in-law. I have never been attached to or motivated by "things", preferring experiences and connections with people I love. This still life image does not represent  a love of the "things" pictured. It represents purposefully curating simple things so that even a breakfast, not on china, represents the blessings of my life. Surrounded by by love, represented by objects.

My still life image does break tradition in that I have included a glimpse of my son. Indulge me, as I am ever more grateful for the times that we share now that he has officially moved to adulthood and out of my home. So much to be grateful for on a quiet, snowy morning. What are you grateful for as you start your day?

Icicles

There is something about accomplishing the first work week of a new year that settles the change in routine and mindset that comes with the extended holiday season. As someone who believes the season does not end until Epiphany on January 6th, there is an overlap between the return to work and the holiday. After work on the 6th I worked to undo the holiday decorations. Truthfully, I have been intentional over the past two years to look for pillows, towels and other decorative items that are more winter themed than traditional Christmas. Mostly as an excuse to not have to undo the festive feeling while entering the long months of winter before renewal brought with spring. Snowflakes and birds and winter fauna lend themselves to extended use. In this work I found joy. For the first time, my tree was a bit of a "theme". I did not feel an obligation to hang every ornament my son has collected or been gifted in the past 23 years. To be clear, I would have gladly done so if he were interested, or participated in the decorating, but at this point we have happily settled on tree hunting together while he shirks his celebratory obligations as my Christmas Prince. Think Prince Henry, officially stepping away from "Senior duties" of the royal family and you will get the picture. But there is an aspect of the tree that is inspired by him, representing one of my many bad parenting moments and the lessons I am gifted from his patience in my shortcomings. Icicles. The return of icicles to the Christmas tree.

Image from Wikipedia "tinsel"

As any child of the 60s and 70s remembers, it was often difficult to even see the family Christmas tree through the tinsel hanging from the branches. Thankfully this decorating trend has been relegated to a happy memory. But there was something about the way the silver strands reflected the light of the tree. The idea of replicating ice hanging from trees, such a beautiful natural scene during a season often seen as dark and dreary. Several years ago, at what I deem the beginning of my son's withdrawal from his "senior" duties as Christmas Prince, he chose a single blown glass icicle as his ornament for the year. Now, keep in mind, this is the kid, formerly known as the Christmas Prince, that would most often choose an expensive blown glass ornament that had significance to his year. And then, in the midst of the teen years, chose an icicle. I reacted poorly. Fear of what would be a lifetime of disconnection to the holiday and traditions I held most dear. Thankfully his father intervened, and an icicle it was. And it looked sorely out of place that first year. But then the second year, he chose a set of blown glass icicles. And then for several years after would choose a different set, or more ornate icicles. Last year I decided I needed enough for the icicles to truly be a design choice and purchased more sets. I now have a tree filled with beautiful blown glass icicles dangling from the ends of branches, catching the lights and reflecting in a way reminiscent of the tinsel of my childhood, but in a way that feels more connected with my affinity for the natural world.

Often I see posts on social media with parents, especially moms, lamenting their children getting older, missing the early stages of childhood and what no longer is instead of celebrating what each new stage brings. I have been arrogant in my belief that this is one parenting mistake I didn't make! And yet, there are icicles. On my tree. That are a beautiful reminder that the fear of the changes that come naturally as our children mature into the adults they are meant to be will, yes, mean celebrations and relationships are different. But the changes may bring something more beautiful than we could have imagined in the middle of our fear. Unbecoming. It does not mean what was in the past did not serve. Unbecoming allows what is and will be to be celebrated more than what was is mourned.

Today I am grateful for lessons I am learning and have learned in the transitions of parenthood. What are you grateful for on this Sunday?

Unbecoming

“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.”

― Paulo Coelho

I first saw this quote on a social media meme, probably early fall of 2019. It was one of those moments when the pause happens involuntarily. And you read again. And then one more time. Ahhhhh. So much yes. Reflecting on my journey of gratitude, this resonating with my soul in a way that the idea of "becoming" my true self did not. For if we are divinely created, how can we not already possess all that we need to complete our mission for this time and in this space? 

As I focus on "unbecoming" as my word of intent to guide 2020, I picture it no differently than the shedding of weight to have a healthy body. Only this spiritual weight is the expectations of our culture, belief systems and family. There may have been times that the extra weight felt comforting, protective. But at a certain point, the flabby belly needs to be dealt with (unfortunately, this is less metaphorical for me). As with building a healthy body, eliminating the fat is only the first step. In order for a body to function as it is designed it needs to be strong and flexible. Unbecoming is not a rebellion against upbringing or `manifesto against a patriarchal culture. Although it can include both. It is the realization that everything that you are, and were ever meant to be, already exist within you. Your work is to shed the weight that is hiding the strongest version of you. Who knows, maybe by the end of this year of "unbecoming" I will have shed enough to see an ab. Or two. Without the belly flap :)

Honoring that a meme led me to this focus, here are a few more that confirmed or spoke to this work to be done.

                                                             

Have you chosen a word of intent for 2020? What do you need to work on as you "unbecome" everything you were not meant to be?