to my children
March 31, 2014 § 2 Comments
I cannot recall with precise certainty the number of times we frequented the familiar paths of our favorite zoo. Instead my memories are measured by the echos of gentle encouragements and firm directives, sticky fingers and indirect wanderings. I hear silent refrains of impassioned pleas for overpriced, inexpensive keepsakes and the resistance of sleepy limbs contradicting curious delight.
At first sight you each met the animals with the unguarded appreciation of infancy; later with the hurried authority of toddler enthusiasm. Today we retraced well-worn pathways with the patient familiarity and mature appreciation of overlapping memories informing new experiences.
Despite the slow march of long days, I marveled at the unexpectedly intentional choreography of our path and the thoughtful acknowledgment of our serendipitous companions; one child navigating our course by map while another lingered for strangers struggling with heavy doors against the awkward weight of oversized strollers. I noted contentedly the quiet study of each exhibit and the charitable patience for young neighbors of chance.
Tonight, sleepy with the satisfaction of today’s adventure, I am unapologetically appreciative of the present; nostalgia for days past overshadowed by thankfulness for this day.
Love, Mom
choosing & claiming
January 2, 2014 § 4 Comments
Naming the New Year has become a tradition that travels over miles and connects me in spirit to the company of an old friend; a kindred soul who similarly seeks inspiration and growth in personal expression. Each year we gift the New Year a name that weighs our consciousness in accountability for our hopes, creates momentum with positive intention, and lends direction with clarity of perspective. It is an exercise created by Ali Edwards who crafted a movement of inspiration and a community of creativity around One Little Word.
This marks my third year naming the New Year. In the beginning the experience of choosing a word was intimate to my sense of self. My first year was a gift of certainty that arrived from recognizing potential in my struggle against uncertainty. In pledging to keep an open mind I embraced the word Open to guide me in my actions as I welcomed a year marked by change. The second year my word came from a place deep within and I could not shake its presence; Be formed on my tongue effortlessly inviting a stillness of presence that served me well this past year in moments of perseverance. This year my word came in my daughter’s voice, filling the silence with Joy.
Let me back up a moment to honor the story behind choosing and claiming this year’s word. In December I began exploring words, eventually testing possible choices in carefully constructed lists hoping to stumble upon a word that would speak to my heart. Unhurried I accepted the silence and revisited past words to map my experience. I immediately recognized themes of presence in past choices that honor my natural tendency toward reflection. In an effort to challenge myself with a new path I labored lovingly over a list of unfamiliar words, seeking the proverbial needle in the haystack. In the quiet morning hours on the last day of the past year, I read each word aloud sounding out a sense of self. I listed words I wanted to claim, beautiful words and uncomfortable words. On the eve of the New Year there was no one singular word that spoke to me.
Desperate and dutiful to the timeliness of this endeavor I looked to my family for inspiration. My husband sifted through words patiently and thoughtfully, choosing Embrace. The word resonated with familiarity and I pushed against its comfort. My daughter, without pause, said Joyful. In as much as I celebrated her perspective the word felt false in its exuberance. The certainty of my daughter’s voice was matched in equal measure by my unspoken uncertainty, but the disparity between our perspectives gifted me space to invite Joy to play a greater role in the year to come.
Embracing Joy felt like upending a box of crayons onto white paper and so I grabbed my pen and scribbled it against the emptiness of the New Year. My daughter’s voice spelling out a new challenge.
thanksgiving
November 6, 2013 § 6 Comments
November marks a conscious effort for many to count the days with acknowledgement of thanks; publicly or privately we create space for gratitude. I scribble little notes of thanks on my daughter’s lunchbox napkin, weighting us in a moment of gratitude from the different corners of our days. I do this in the spirit of Thanksgiving, drawing her eyes to our good fortune.
More importantly I move in gratitude throughout my days, unbound by the seasons. I use a language of gratitude when I speak and I weight my correspondence with a thankful spirit. I practice thanksgiving in much the same way one might lean into a yoga posture to create balance and flexibility, strength and grace; responding to my environment mindful of my blessings least I allow challenges to distract me from a sense of self fortified in faith.
Each day I thread my skies with silver linings to better appreciate the shapes of clouds that cast shadows, seeking and giving thanks in word and action.
choosing & claiming
September 8, 2013 § 2 Comments
Recently my thoughts have chased around a common theme, the words we use and our responsibility to ourselves and others to exercise integrity. It began just before one of my posts was selected for Freshly Pressed. Days before the happy surprise I mused to my husband, What if I were finally Pressed and the post was one I wouldn’t wish to be my introduction to a greater audience?
There’s a vulnerability in collecting thoughts, beliefs, uncertainties and worries in a public forum. We release pieces of ourselves for critic and interpretation by strangers and friends, alike. Of course this truth extends into every corner of our life, beyond the words we consciously choose to share in writing.
At the same time I was curiously contemplating the value of introductions to strangers in written language, I met my children’s educators and support staff for an introduction that called me to question how we identify self in the context of education. I mulled over my statements alongside each teacher’s sharing looking for reflections of possibility and lines in the sand, trying to map the year ahead in a dialogue of partnership by first identifying my role as my children’s advocate.
A series of otherwise inconsequential events seemed to clutter pockets of my day with distractions; peer interactions, social media, serendipitous exchanges in supermarkets and school yards. In each instance this theme of language, choosing our words and claiming ownership of our thoughts in writing, speech, and silence have been following me like a string of tin cans rattling noisily between business begging me to look behind me and forcing stillness.
I tend to believe that these little life nudges are born of a subconscious warning that calls our attention to a reflective state. Today I am nestling in, trying to find the message that has been following me between statements of self, asking me to evaluate my words and uncover a lesson I might otherwise be overlooking.
girl next door
June 19, 2013 § Leave a comment
We moved into my husband’s childhood home the summer before our son began first grade, when our daughter was still a toddler. The sidewalk that runs past our home carries memories of footsteps shared between my husband and neighborhood friends. Over the past seven years my children have collected memories and chased friendships along the same concrete squares.
Yesterday my daughter filled an entire day with a girl from just down the street and around the corner. Our backyards practically hold hands but the girls have only played together occasionally, until yesterday. On a beautiful summer day they hid from the sunshine and interfering company of our household in my daughter’s room, occasionally scampering to our deck sharing a meal and giggling soundlessly behind the glass doors only to scurry back to play.
This day of friendship, exploring the corners of imaginary play until the moon pushed the sun from the sky with sad good-byes and tired eyes, was a happy reminder of our good fortune in purchasing a house that was familiar as a home, inheriting a stretch of sidewalk that leads to friendship in every direction.
investing time
September 22, 2012 § 4 Comments
This week I structured my days more intentionally, dividing my hours with a conscious appreciation for relationships. By week’s end I feel a gratifying sense of connection among those who are most important to me.
I began with a promise and commitment to myself. For one hour each day I gifted myself time to exercise. The practice of running has become an act of meditation for me; in motion I am more peaceful, my thoughts more cohesive. This small investment in myself became the foundation for my week, centering myself before sharing pieces of my day with others. A sense of serenity inspired greater energy and attention to areas where I could improve upon other relationships.
The first realization came late one night while my children procrastinated over their bedtime routines. It occurred to me that my children did not fully appreciate the value of these routines for their father and I as a couple. This week I placed our needs into expectations. I outlined for both children the importance of a healthy marriage to happy parents, identifying the quiet couple time in the evenings as essential rather than optional. I asked our children to demonstrate respect by honoring our evening routines that their father and I may end our days connected with conversation, rest, and sharing.
As a measure of thanks for this time alone in the evening, I recommitted myself to connecting with each child during simple moments like homework, mealtime, and extracurricular activities; each opportunities that lend themselves to easy, unforced conversations. These touch points of our days are necessary indulgences I dare not compromise.
Perhaps the greatest change to my week involved an increased effort to share my days with friends. More than speaking I listened, laughed, and settled into hugs rather than settling for e-mail messages and texts. My absence from home left some household tasks undone, but my children and husband embraced new opportunities to connect as they explored pockets of time together without me. Adjusting my days to encompass exercises in friendship highlighted this area of my life as assumed and overlooked. Loving friends without demonstrating appreciation by sharing time leaves these precious relationships unbalanced and undervalued.
The world did not challenge these small adjustments to my daily agenda. Greeting each day more aware of each relationship my days were richer for the investment of time.
breathing room
July 13, 2012 § Leave a comment
Space, sunshine, and silliness. Stretches of sand and a slower pace. We are setting aside the pattern of everyday for a weekend getaway. Time together without demands; work obligations and housekeeping tasks traded for play. I have packed only necessities, leaving the baggage of worries behind. I am making room to breathe and embracing stolen moments with my family.
breaking bread
April 14, 2012 § Leave a comment
The afternoon of my husband’s birthday we met for a late lunch, borrowing a moment from our day for ourselves. The restaurant was quiet and we relaxed into an easy conversation. I looked around the empty tables appreciating the absence of noise and noted a familiar stranger sitting at the table next to ours; a tall, dark figure that I so often see walking along a road I travel in his familiar formal attire. My husband had interviewed this man once at his place of business and shared with me the stranger’s over-qualified credentials from a professionally scripted resume carried along with his worldly possessions in a nondescript backpack. Even without my husband’s insight the man’s posture tells a story of one whose footsteps have traversed a full life. His well-worn suit lends an air of self-respect; his long, but not unkept hair implies a spirit free of convention; a curious attentiveness communicates intelligence. I imagine his stories would occupy an afternoon, but despite his openness he seems steeped in solitude. Without ceremony my husband requested a meal of the man’s choosing be provided privately. The space between our tables might have been miles apart for the chasm between us, but there is a bridge of humanity that connects each of us in small, unassuming acts like breaking bread.
coffee clutch
September 2, 2011 § Leave a comment
I carry it like a well admired handbag. My coffee has become an expensive, temporary, disposable clutch that accompanies me through my day. Like a small, over-priced handbag with a designer label, my signature cup whispers you deserve this indulgence.
Some days I pretend it isn’t a treat, it is functional. The coffee induced energy boost helps me get more done. Other days, I use medicinal claims; it eases a headache. Sure, I rocket through errands and house cleaning propelled by caffeine and, most of the time, coffee dulls my headaches. I know, it is something more.
I am in a love affair with an experience. I like the familiarity of my coffee shop, the playful banter with my barista, the rich flavor of my treat, and the signature cup that I wear like a clutch.
scribblechic 