sharing words
January 2, 2017 § 3 Comments
My daughter is sounding out her One Little Word. Each year I invite both children to join me in my New Year’s practice. Lending them printed pages with rows of words, I challenge them to read the words aloud, to strike through those words that fall flat and create space for those words that whisper recognition.
It is a treasure hunt of sorts, there is magic in scavenging tidy rows of words for suggestions of self; fragments of dreams we see only in our mind’s eye and private hopes, intimate challenges and new habits. More than goal setting, it is a mindset for the days to come.
Last night I came upon my daughter stretched purposefully beside her lists, red pen in hand, striking and circling with a confident flair. Her posture was the same form she uses for drawing and writing, painting and molding clay; her hands moving with the same certainty she shapes thoughts into art.
I looked over her papers, marveling at the key code she had created for her thoughts, the place her marks stopped, and the large circle where she explained her choice.
She landed on one brief word, four letters that held together four other words. I won’t share her word, instead I want to honor some of the words that framed our conversation at bedtime.
The first was seek, so that she might seek out new roads. The next two left me chasing down a pencil to guard her thoughts. Adding my handwriting to her own this is what I transcribed for my daughter:
“Self-love (means) to love who you are and don’t let anyone else say otherwise. Shine so that when other’s don’t feel like they are enough, I can reach out to them.”
Her last word lead to others and we fell into a conversation about the intricacy of our words, the impossibility of a singular choice and the subsequent supporting characters.
Whatever our words, I hope there will be many more late night ramblings. That my children will continue to allow me to guard their words among my own. To share traditions and explore new goals as we support one another in becoming our best selves; collectively and individually.
show up, surrender
December 31, 2016 § 2 Comments
Last year I choose Wholehearted for my One Little Word practice. It was the thread that bound my thoughts and actions to the quieter language of my heart. I listened more carefully, leapt more intentionally.
There were joyful permission slips and complicated choices. Some understood and where others left vacancies, beautiful opportunities invited change that blossomed into new relationships. It’s been a year of healthier boundaries and greater peace.
This year I found my new word tethered to last year’s promise, Mindfully. The two are almost inseparable in practice. After all, the heart and mind are old friends.
Unlike resolutions of year’s past, these words don’t demand lists; instead they insist on stillness of thought and intention of action. To show up and surrender.
It is a beautiful balance of holding on and letting go. Facing fears head on without distraction and making choices that resonate with a gentler certainty. There is no numbing, discomfort and joy are intimate acquaintances.
The year to come is filled with emotional family milestones and I want to welcome these complicated celebrations with mindfulness for their brevity. These moments are the material of gratitude or remorse, the difference is entirely of our choosing.
Just yesterday my children were babies; someday is a misconception, a beautiful distraction from today.
Of course, there are mechanics to the work of such stillness. Old habits and passive worries interrupt even the best intentions. I’m still learning how to get comfortable with the mess of now to invite the peace of presence.
I’m working on creating habits that nurture this choice and honors my values to better align my actions with my beliefs. In some ways, it is as simple as saying “no” when “yes” feels kinder. Telling an acquaintance that I would rather not connect on social media when I can get to know her in person, over stories and shared time.
It can also mean changing direction in the middle of a complicated trajectory; telling my son I think there’s another path when for years others have guided him in a different direction. Asking him to listen to his heart means modeling that truth with my own actions; those interests and forgotten heart songs.
Some days, it is mundane. Exercising when I would rather escape into a book or resting when the laundry demands attention. More often the magic is in small moments, afternoon dates after sixteen years of marriage and listening to my children rather than informing their choices.
I’m still learning how to balance the woman I aspire to be, Mindfully and Wholeheartedly.
back to basics
December 29, 2016 § 1 Comment
Vacations intentionally tend towards indulgence, time empty of responsibility and ripe with endless possibilities. When we travel, each menu becomes a treasure of choice; I consciously seek out those dishes with fresh ingredients that demand extra care and settle into the pregnant space of anticipation.
I am the same with new environments, surveying my surroundings for beauty with an eagerness toward pleasure and discovery. I observe strangers with the same fascination I delight in nature; mysteries completely immune to my attention.
These are simple personal truths, distant cousins to my tendency toward sad novels or my preference for silence. The everyday truths and vacation indulgences are casualties of distraction; joy lost in the rut of routine and the chaos of false expectations.
Little fears that worry the peacefulness of contentment. Am I succeeding in parenting? Is my partner fulfilled? Gestures of maturity and accountability that overshadow the value of pleasure. Are the rooms tidied, the laundry washed, papers signed and appointments scheduled?
This vacation I’ve ordered my time at home with the same relaxed amusement I so often reserve for travel; creating opportunity for pleasure with the playful insistency too often lost to the day’s demands. Small, selfish gifts of time that make the days longer despite the season.
I’ve let the kids’ bedding remain wrinkled in the chaos of each night’s dreams, looked the other way at the remnants of Christmas gifts that weigh countertops with forgotten clutter.
Instead, I’ve woken early to exercise, squirreled away stolen hours for new books, let the laundry wait, and interrupted our children’s interests with invitations for family time. In another week, when the mechanics of school days disrupt us from the ease of these holiday luxuries, I want to live more mindfully of these basic truths.
It is, after all, a tradition of clean slates and good intentions as we dress the New Year in hope for our best selves.
I’ve not yet drafted a list of goals or settled on my One Little Word. I’m still sounding out the shape of my promise, savoring the space between recognition and choice.
To exercise, breathe, rest, and read.
To play and listen with care and curiosity.
To live mindfully, with gratitude.
It is a return to basic truths and small delights.
in a word
December 27, 2015 § 2 Comments
A few years past, I joined a close friend in naming the New Year with Ali Edward’s inspired One Little Word®. It is a fresh perspective on the tradition of resolutions, an engaging and individual year long reflection with monthly directives that nurture a mindfulness for good intentions too often lost in the brevity of holiday momentum.
I have come to treasure the challenge of one word, settling into the list of possibilities; scratching them upon paper, waiting for one to answer an unspoken question with the subtle shift in the shape of my letters or weight of my pen in hand.
I sift through words that conjure strength or boast conviction, challenge play or validate care; words that elude me and those that name my hopes or weaknesses. It is an intimate exercise in honesty, a tender searching for a resolution of will. One I am still doodling playfully into the margins of these last lingering days of a year rich with more.
be
December 26, 2012 § 1 Comment
I write about stillness, invite the concept into my consciousness, absorb its peace, and prescribe its healing powers. This year as I endeavor to name goals, or perhaps hopes, for the coming New Year I realize my greatest wish has little to do with increasing, decreasing, eliminating, or adding. Rather I want merely to be.
Present. Peaceful. Still.
I want to worry less about the next moment and invite myself to simply accept each moment at face value. I don’t want to dwell in worries or fears for my son’s challenges. I don’t want to measure my daughter’s growth academically gauging success against failure. I don’t want to limit romance to date nights with my husband or family time to specific activities. These measurements suffocate the air from living, leaving us grasping greedily for something outside the moment we are in.
This is not to say I do not have concrete goals. My life needs priorities and structure as much as it craves happy surprises, but this year I cannot confine needs and wants neatly to numbers.
This year I acknowledge my old list is ever-present, my resolve reaffirmed, my intent condensed to One Little Word. Be.
one word
December 30, 2011 § 1 Comment
Today I want to share three blogs, acknowledge three women, and embrace one word. Lisa Leonard. Brené Brown. Ali Edwards. Women whose thoughts and creativity resonate like happy echos in my heart. One blog reading into another, guiding me on a new journey. Inspiration tumbling like dominos; word by word.
Last year I happened upon Ali Edwards invitation of One Little Word to name a wish for myself for the coming year. My word called to me, whispering a personal truth. Write: for joy, for clarity, to document, and to share. My spirit soared on wings written across an endless sky.
This year, I am overwhelmed with choices. Words gather on my tongue like snowflakes. Quiet. Passion. Balance. Strength. Create. Move. Change.
Rather than listing resolutions, I am reaching for One Little Word to center me for the year ahead. What is your word?
june
June 16, 2011 § Leave a comment
Sometime in December, perhaps even the First of January, I pause to note new goals that will inspire me through the cold, dreary months of winter. I nurture my mind and spirit with hope and possibility, something akin to resolutions. Last winter I began writing to no one in particular, but with a promise to myself to move forward. Today I am taking a moment to look behind me at where I began here (scribblechic) and where I stand.
First, when given the opportunity to define myself I remember feeling overwhelmed and unprepared. Without editing myself, I quickly and briefly stated: I am a woman, wife, and mother that finds beauty in simplicity. I am forever scribbling thoughts on scraps of paper and curious to share fragments of my life with others. The act of writing and sharing my thoughts has been both a gift and a challenge. I have gifted myself time in the space of my days to be still and document moments for another day. The piece of me that was curious to share has found joy in the process of sharing simple moments with others.
In my first post, I can feel myself grasping at the air around me trying to find direction. I love watching people with the same spirit I love setting pen to paper. Typing is simpler, but I love the feel of my pen sailing against the grainy texture of paper. In that first post I began with those basic self-truths. Three of my favorite ingredients to a beautiful moment are a pen, paper, and people. I am forever slipping into a stranger’s story and then longing to share my simple moment of humor, growth, or grace with another soul. I won’t pretend to know where to begin; instead, I will share these moments I scribble in my mind. I was trying to begin from a space that felt authentic. I remember expecting to share and reflect on others’ stories, but it was those of my children that have come most naturally.
In unlisted I tried to step away from an introduction by setting seasonal goals. I identified fitness, writing, something new (unnamed), and presence in each moment. There was also an early acknowledgment that I am organizationally challenged. I am still finding logic in my efforts to create order in my days, but I have recommitted to fitness in something new. I am going to return to this in a separate entry, but facing a new challenge and finding my way has given me great joy. Writing and being present in my days has balanced my joy keeping me conscious of my blessings. With each entry I am aware of the simple blessings of my life and the endless lessons my life as a mother has provided.
In looking back at these very first efforts to find a beginning in this space, I have found a sense of self and my voice. I am still learning, but the process has been a wonderful journey I do not wish to end.
theory of evolution
January 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
We make resolutions with aspirations of evolution; good intentions for self-improvement propelled forcefully into a New Year. Today, armed with enthusiasm and a project I set forth to right my domestic wrongs. My foray into organization began in the kitchen. I shifted gadgets sorting them into logical, functional spaces. I then visited my wardrobe and began a new set of questions that centered on the odds that I might in fact ever wear garments largely intended for another life. Slowly and with great hesitation I approached my daily organizational tools – the folders, drawers, and boxes where I “sort” important information concerning my children. These, the most important documents in my home, were chaos. It was with resignation and a good deal of caffeine that I spread said documents across my dining room table and began a lengthy acknowledgment that I am, indeed a mess. In the stark light of day I came to see that I have been hiding what matters beneath clean countertops, inside tidy spaces.
My initial reaction to my hidden hindrance was to brew a cup of coffee, pick-up a new book, run an errand, and plan meals for the week ahead. It must be said that I rarely plan meals in advance and this became a clear indication that I was procrastinating. I could barely look at my disheveled table without wanting to take a nap; I physically and emotionally shut down to avoid the work required to properly sort the important from the insignificant. Hours later, with a deep sigh, I forced myself into a chair and began assigning titles and thereby locations to each document. Keepsake, receipt, garbage. I could have added a dozen categories to rationalize the importance of each item, but these three simple labels allowed me the focus and direction to simplify an overwhelming task.
This challenge began with a feeling and evolved into a moment of serenity that I will carry with me into the New Year. Each day I will remember to simplify, organize, and prioritize my world that I might live in a greater state of peace and productivity.
unlisted
December 30, 2010 § 1 Comment
Thoughts flow through me with little direction and so I have come to value the quiet power of a list. From my daily to-do and encompassing whimsical daydreams, each concept seems pulled from the pages of possibility into stark reality when pen meets pad. So, to honor that strength and to gather steam for the New Year I am publishing my numbers.
1. Fitness First. I have become fluent in putting off exercise for “a little later.” Two years ago fitness was as much a part of my day as brushing my teeth and my spirit aches for that connection to my body.
2. Writing. I often overlook the simple gift of fleshing out my thoughts; when I write I seem to stumble into myself and see the world around me with greater clarity.
3. Something new. I haven’t identified a specific challenge, but I find I am most inspired when fighting to prove “I can.”
4. Presence. I am often planning ahead and not absorbing the now; less multi-tasking and more stillness.
These are the four firsts; the ideas that poke at my consciousness and beg permission to become priorities rather than possibilities. New goals unfold and make their way onto new lists, but this a beginning.
scribblechic 