dressed down
September 20, 2016 § 5 Comments
In cultivating a new wardrobe for work, I had time enough to play at dressing up; fitting room productions of curious costumes for uncertain scenarios.
I slipped into elegant pencil skirts and feminine dresses, sharp slacks and pristine blouses. High heels and kitten pumps, practical penny loafers and functional ballet flats. The combinations were endlessly entertaining and mildly exhausting.
I wondered briefly at who I might have been had I ordered my choices differently; turning appreciatively to gauge the stranger that seemed at once both familiar and foreign. Store clerks acknowledged these alternate versions kindly, but I could only weather the work of each effort with disjointed appreciation.
I felt less myself without my feet braced barefoot for balance or fabrics gentle enough to accommodate my tendency to curl into a ball. Beautiful pieces were lost to the hair I more often let fall and the face I prefer washed clean.
For all the years I might have wanted to feel beautiful or sexy, I am most myself undone; happier outside the attention of dress and lost more peacefully to my thoughts.
I wonder if we ever outgrow the art of playing at self. Perhaps I have failed colorfully at growing up by too casually dressing down.
love letters
September 14, 2016 § 2 Comments
It should have been a day of learning co-workers names and memorizing workday routines, but I faltered at each corner. Between every tidy shelf of books was a love story I couldn’t dismiss. Picture books from bedtimes past and chapter books that bookended forgotten passions.
Hand to heart I held the books of my children’s childhood just long enough to remember the weight of clumsy hands tangled in my hair as they distracted themselves from the temptation of thin paper pages. Eyes that watched my mouth conjure shades of sound from black shapes on white pages.
As the books lengthened into the thick binding of lost afternoons, I could see the outline of my children bent over the work of reading or curled beside me as I tumbled freely into my own escape. Cold months under warm blankets and summer afternoons inside the shade.
Old friends and new loves, quietly waiting for the next chapter.
on this day
September 13, 2016 § 2 Comments
Sleep was an impossibility, my joy for this day is effervescent. Happiness enough to balance the restless sleep and heavy footsteps of a cold I cannot shake. To find my place among so many new faces and endless pages, I am at once both child and woman. Purposeful and whimsical.
Honoring my first day with unedited notes on nerves from the eve of my interview:
Thursday is such an unfortunate runner up to Friday. It is a day of eager anticipation for the possibility of the weekend’s indulgences; rest or play, time enough for unfinished tasks or celebratory gatherings. Thursday holds the space of enthusiasm, while Friday parades its promises with the prideful showmanship of a skilled ringleader.
Today is my interview.
I don’t know how to quantify the value of one phone call; the sheer joy that comes from being invited to show up for a conversation I no longer remember the words to.
And so begins a new chapter.
to my husband
January 31, 2016 § 7 Comments
It’s been an exciting couple of days. You’re on the road, re-introducing a body of work that has been a labor of love for many years; something that was previously a hobby is now your chosen occupation.
We’ve only spoken on the phone, briefly, but already the smile in your stories tells me everything I need to know. That’s the thing about doing what you love, it lights you up from the inside. You speak and act from a truer place and that energy is infectious, it draws people and opportunities into your life that fan the flames of passion.
I’m proud of you and excited for you, inspired by you and confident in your ability. I’m also encouraged by the message you are providing our children about living beyond the status quo; showing them with your actions the value of believing in yourself by taking charge of your dreams and making self a priority.
In all the daily demands of grown-up responsibilities we can lose sight of joy, shy away from risks. It’s so easy to strive for stability; consistency and predictability offer essential measures of peace – financially, mentally and emotionally. As parents we are providers of necessities, but also of inspiration.
We encourage our children to dream big and believe in themselves, but we must first demonstrate the work of living a dream with confidence.
This past year was difficult, it would have been easy to give in to hurt, anger, or disappointment; to be submissive and defer your happiness to predictable pursuits of less fulfilling work. You might have chosen something to get by, a job that you endured for chunks of time until you could dream out loud, but instead you invested, confidently, in self.
This is not to say the path you have chosen is easy. The pursuit of happiness demands attention and care.
You are teaching our children the work of dreams and the value of self so that they, too, might choose a path less traveled. I’m looking forward to hearing more about the past of couple days, excited about the work of months to come as you carve your way.
Love, Me
the work of joy
May 26, 2015 § 9 Comments
I think, too often, I anticipate joy will arrive in fleeting moments of superficial pleasure; something that acts upon me or interrupts the work of living. Some days I schedule excuses for joy, a cup of coffee with a friend or distracted escape into the pages of a new story. Yesterday pleasure came in measured efforts of work, tending to my home in tasks that I more often procrastinate.
Vacuuming the traces of a week’s busyness and pulling weeds that freckle my garden beds, washing my family’s clothes and sifting through cluttered paperwork were efforts that pushed against happier interruptions. It was only at day’s end that my muscles and mind relaxed into a content peacefulness that I recognized the work of joy; the purpose within pleasure that rewards effort.
Tomorrow I will undoubtably conjure new excuses to postpone those tasks I shuffle to the perimeter of my schedule, but for today I’m inspired to lean into the lingering places of neglect and dwell in a different sense of joy.
scribblechic 