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?

Every Last Drop

New Years Eve. The End that signals a beginning. I think that's what's so special about New Years. With many, if not most, endings, there is not necessarily a beginning on the horizon that seems hopeful or inspiring. It's also why we tend to be done with the year, wanting to forget or move on from the experiences and lessons that were difficult in the hope of different or better to come. My word of intent for 2019, "engage", has helped me stay focused on squeezing every last drop of 2019 before looking or moving forward to 2020. Much like my intentions in previous years, the definition evolved into the lessons I needed instead of the experiences I anticipated.

As I sit home for a quiet New Years Eve, a different way to engage in itself, despite all that wasn't accomplished (mileage goals, number of books, that stubborn belly flubber), intentionally moving beyond presence, to engagement in the present, provided me some great experiences. I am grateful to 2019 for the opportunity to:

• Experience more even while trailing less. More connections, meeting with other women who love books, the outdoors, dogs. Conversations and experiences in the woods are unique. I am blessed to have a "west coast" and "east coast" group of women that keeps expanding.

• Reading that had more intention.  The reality of the demands of graduate studies leaves little free reading. I had to be choosier this year than I ever remember. In the process, I read less books but was more engaged in those that I read. Several were "chewy", worth of the time it took to thoughtfully work through, including "The Restless Wave", "Overland", and "The Starless Sea. I find myself reading more nonfiction than ever, and am choosier about my fiction. My reading challenge Facebook group inspires me as a reader and what to read

Snow Queen!

• Celebrating birthdays with two friends whom I adore. Birthdays were always a very special day in my house growing up, so I tend to treat them a sacred events. They weren't even milestone birthdays, just the chance to share part of the day with those I love. That I won the holiday outfit contest at my Chief Heroine Jill's celebration was just the cherry on top. The Snow Queen knows holiday celebrations!

                                           
                                               This face! The joy of a rainbow.                                                 #adventureswithSimon #sassafrass

• Creating a home. This blog began years ago when I was gifted the Simple Abundance daily journal. I struggled with the creative assignments that had to do with decorating (myself and my house). As I reflect upon this year I do so in a space that for the first time in my life finally feels like home. That it is a space I did not want makes it even more a gift of gratitude. And it isn't about things. It is about a space reflecting who you are and what you value. I received the best compliment from my brother the other night, while we sat in my living room. He remarked that he loved that the space felt like me. Not something that someone had gone to a store and "decorated", but a space that reflected things dear to me, with meaning, purposefully curated. There is much to be grateful for in a peaceful space.

• Learning how to age better than I have lived. The trifecta of hiking, yoga and strength training has my feeling stronger than ever. I have much growth to achieve in all three, and look forward to focusing on developing a stronger body and spirit in the years to come. 

• A wonderful trip to Italy with Bennett. Soaking in the art, history, culture, outdoors and culinary delight were beyond what we had imagined. I continue to be grateful for adventures Bennett shares with me.

In my Sunday morning yoga class, our instructor Alyssa reminded us that we needed to make room for what we needed and desired for 2020. What, if anything, did we need to let go with the year end in order to be open and available to received in 2020? And that thought will guide my 2020 intent. But not until tomorrow!

What are you grateful for in 2019?

Celebrating ALL the days of Christmas

About mid-December, my social media platforms starting sending me notifications for my "year in review". This is why it is difficult to stay present in the digital age! Every time I open one of the platforms there is a message with a link for me to "celebrate" my year with a lovely review, put together for me. RESIST. The year is not yet finished. I plan to engage in what every last day of 2019 has to offer before focusing on 2020. There is time.

Could this be why it is so easy to overindulge during the holidays? Considering the time between Christmas and New Year as almost a free pass? The tradition of celebrating Christmas for thirteen days, from Christmas through January 6th, is a great way to stay connected to engaging in life practices daily. As with Christmas, moving from celebration to celebration, with no thoughtful connection to what is happening in the present, allows one to avoid difficult and necessary work. I am looking forward to 2020. I have even determined my word of intent for the year. But beyond that, I am living in the here and now. Adhering to my 2019 word of intent, engage, until the stroke of midnight on December 31st. I have goals yet to achieve (the book list is seriously competing with the reality of time), people with whom to connect, and a focused commitment on daily challenging my physical abilities. 

On a side note, it is day three and I have yet to receive any partridges, doves or French hens. Oh where for art thou true love?  

How will you stay engaged in these last days of 2019 instead of already being 2020 focused?

Throwing It In

Near the end of July, on what was to be my second of only two outdoor getaways for the summer (and not vacations mind you, short weekend with lots of travel just to get some woods and water), I was lazily swinging in my hammock, looking out at Lake Huron through my bug net, enjoying a book on trees, when I heard what I thought was the unthinkable.

     "Are you committed to staying, even if we throw it in?"

I had heard mumbling and rumbling, somethings about flies, the loud smack of hand against bare skin, possibly even some swears coming from the picnic table beyond the trees. But this? Throwing it in? What was this heresy? Sighing, I realized I was going to have to leave my comfortable cocoon of a hammock and join this conversation. Let's just say that by the time my feet hit the ground, my body no longer in the protective wrap of the hammock, I was feeling their pain. I planted a smile on my face, walked over to the picnic table, ignoring the biting flies. "Are you serious"? "We're serious".

My backpacking friends are a fairly hardy bunch. We travel with what we need on our backs, to locations without "facilities", and can go days without showering. (Full disclosure, we love Michigan because while this sounds badass, in three seasons we can usually find a decent water source to cool off and get a little less trail grubby). Unfortunately, most of us are in a season that between work and family commitments, time on the trail is limited. This was to be our only weekend of the summer. At our favorite spot. With private beach access on Lake Huron. And we're talking about throwing it in? After about five minutes of conversation, which felt like an hour in fly bit time, I capitulated. If they were going, I would go too.

What ensued was the fastest camp tear down I have yet to witness. Three women, with tents pitched, clothes drying and camp luxuries set up, were packed and on the trail in under half an hour. Mind you, this was 90+ degrees and very humid in the middle of the afternoon.

I proceeded to berate myself the two miles back to the car. There is just something about quitting that feels wrong. Adversity makes you grow. Gratitude helps you find a message from the Universe in everything. So giving up? We're taught perseverance as magical character trait that eventually brings a Disney like ending. I didn't even feel better when the sky opened into a downpour just as we reached the car. Perfect timing, right? Rain is part of the backpacking experience. If I packed it in every time it rained....well, let's just say trail time would be virtually non-existent. So no, even the rain didn't change my perspective.

That night, after a good shower, I was left with only my fly bites and thoughts for company. Truthfully? it felt good to be in clean. To rest comfortably in my bed. But the nagging narrative of the wrongness of quitting was relentless. What finally broke through for me was the realization that the guilt was unproductive. There are times, when choices are unproductive or hurtful, that some guilt serves a purpose toward growth. But this guilt was wrapped up in an ideal that I had imposed. No one was hurt by me "quitting" the trip. Not even me.

The growth comes in evaluating the guilt. And finding opportunities to grow. Persevering an unproductive path will not lead to growth or happiness. My life is more authentic, my choices more intentional, as I engage in actively evaluating relationships, career opportunities and moves, and the intention through which I make choices daily. Perseverance may be virtuous and serve to strengthen both resolve and success, but only if the path one is on is the right one.

When have you found "throwing it in" to be the right choice? And have you persevered, just for the sake of persevering, when you knew the quest was more about the negative narrative rather than the right pursuit?

Embracing the Dark

The day after Christmas can often feel like the day after the wedding. All of the time and energy that went into creating a celebration is over quickly.  And the clean up! (the too full tummy, the overindulgence of whatever poison you picked). This year, I wanted to be mindful of the season, to embrace the lessons that are coming with my word of intent for 2019, "engage". I came across blogs, lessons and meditations on advent through the contemplative practice community that inspired me to embrace Advent in the same way Lent is observed. Intentionally, with presence, instead of forward focused on the celebration that is to come.

Last full moon of the decade 12:12 on 12/12/19

The Season of Dark, leading to Winter Solstice as the day with the least amount of light of the year, can be a difficult one. Pressure and expectation of holidays, relationships that may bring unrest in anticipation of engagement or lack thereof, as well as the physical reality of living and moving a world with less light. The contemplative practice was a reminder that this too is a season to be celebrated, embrace, to learn. Engage. Be OK with the dark.

Truly, what that meant for me is learning to be OK with me. With my dark. To engage in the emotions, anticipation, dread, longing, not just for the celebratory season to come, but for life in general. My yoga practice is helping me breathe through the process. Feel the joy when it comes. Let the sadness and disappointment be acknowledged, and then let go. The importance for me was to be engaged enough to recognized the complexity of what I feel, long for and work toward. Every day I CHOOSE JOY. But there are days that the joy is not a feeling of happy, but a true choice of how I will embrace my present and engage to my utmost.

Like the couple who expends the energy and resources to plan a wedding, but has done no work to ensure a successful marriage, the day after becomes a disappointment. Reality sets in. Every day is not a celebration. On this day after Christmas, I sit engaged in this moment. I enjoyed the season, but practicing moderation means I don't feel physically or emotionally bloated. The celebrations were real and necessary and life affirming. As were the moments of dark.

And now, I celebrate the twelve days of Christmas, in anticipation of Epiphany. My tree and decorations will remain up through January 6th. I'm embracing my love of things Nordic by practicing hygge. I'm learning to find joy in a less hurried, scheduled existence and embrace the parts of me so intentionally avoided when not engaged. Love and peace through the last week of 2019. Let's engage in every moment we have of this year, before looking ahead to 2020.