There was a moment when I knew I had given it all up. Everything my heart had, my mind, my being. I was no longer me, I was defined by my roles, the definitions that each person around me held. Mom, cleaner, boss, partner, mentor, supporter, listener, gardener, neighbor…the list went on. What I no longer knew what it was to be me. Did I have dreams alongside those to do lists? Did I have something special to share? Was I something…someone to be doing along with my giving.
He said I didn’t understand. They said I was just stressed. Their need was for me to fix it.
I crushed under the weight of it all.
My breath was gone.
I was lost.
Yet still I could see. I could feel. Through the dullness I felt something pulling.
Call it what I may, the purpose of me…the reason for me…longing to be free again
Longing to be dancing in the moonlight
Dreaming to be loved through the day and into the night
It pulled strong to lift me, reaching to find me in the dark…reminding me that faith will lead the way
When I knew I can feel alone but yet will never be
I love to create. I love to solve problems with what I can find, I love to “use the scraps”. In the kitchen, the Turkey carcass is used for soup and a very special wish. In the garden, the bruised and pats picking feed the chickens. In the house, the broken crayons are soon to be candles. For this post the key is in the shop, the cast off and discarded ends are my treasure. Bookmarks, coasters, painting shapes, bird houses, shelves, wind chimes, I dream of making from what I find in the black bin of “firewood”.
I find such energy in pulling from the discarded, to hold a piece of “scrap wood” and listen for the muse of what it might become. Finding the lost beauty, function and purpose of any piece. Seeing hope, potential, need in something all but forgotten by another.
Once found, I let my hands, heart and imagination flow into each piece and even when my artist brain cannot find purpose I wonder what could another use this to create? Do I have a friend making lamps, bowls, thinks I cannot imagine because only they can?
As you read I hope we may further the movement already all around us. Like in a resilient ecosystem, there is no waste, each byproduct of one function will feed another. May we model the world in which we live.
Let our minds shift from waste = trash
What we do not need was never meant to be waste, our excess can feed another maker’s purpose.
My mind awakes and I take that first deep breath of crisp fall air, bringing in the scents of the dew covered gardens ready for their final harvest. Stretching out, the cool air awakens my spirit to the strengthening thought of welcoming another day. My heart beating to the rhythm of the waking woods around me.
My heart feels the excitement and happiness of the day to come, then my mind comes barging into the moment. My mind, full of its stories and stresses; begins to talk at me about my to do’s, the things I forgot to do the day before, the hard conversations I have to have today, the meetings, the presentations…
As my mind continues racing through the morning, with another deep breath, I find calm and peace again. Hearing the call of an owl, the falling leaves, the cycle of fall granting us the blessing of abundance from our spring dreams and summer work. I AM, finds my waking being.
I am reminded that before I work, stress, and worry; perhaps in place of work, stress, and worry, I must bring my heart, my joy, my passion to the day. I must breathe in the beauty and promise and breathe out my hope for what the day can be.
If you find yourself waking up working, may this find you and give you pause to find the moment. May this bring your heart the warmth you need, to wake up bringing your passion and joy to the world this day.
I couldn’t find the joy, I couldn’t see the good, I couldn’t join the laugh. I knew, saw and heard them all, but they seemed so far away. Lost in the thick fog, another world moving by as I sat and moved so slow. My mind lost to a world of worry, a sadness of darkness. So I wrote in hopes to find a way, through art as we often do. Through the walls that creativity does not see.
Writing with clenched hands and tense eyes, shoulders tightened with the pain of the day. Putting the hurt onto the page. Pouring the fear through the ink. Leaving the slow motion, leaving the pain. Turning inside once more so as to be just me. Who I am, where I am, without the world that would hurt me, the world that would put me aside when I don’t conform.
Here on the page, I find the connected hearts, like veins of plants reaching out to share and bond.
I dig deeper, I reach taller, I breathe once more as me. The strength of me returns to see the light. I left my wilted spirit and hear the laughter once more. The edges of my mouth turn to a smile in the goodness of simplicity. My heart feels it’s own warmth again in the joy within me.
My friend, some days are simply hard. Some days we just plain hurt. Some days we need to know we are connected and yet still feel our own. Some days we need to be.
If you are having a day like that, I hope this message finds you. Maybe you can’t find the peace in the moment given where you are, who is around or what is going on. I hope though, in the minutes to read this, you may find the calm that leads you back to you. For you are the joy the world needs, the uniqueness of you.
Ah, it is is thankfully so much more than that dear dictionary.com
Motherhood is the village grown larger with each light born anew. We find not only the child in the light; but all the smiles and hearts warmed by the softest touch, a toothless smile, a belly giggle. From the moment the light is born, our village grows with each day, through teachers, coaches, friends, aunts, uncles, grandparents, coworkers and the passerby who smiles on our wild days.
It is true, the light dims somedays with loss, heartbreak, exhaustion, or fear,
but on this day, may we each take a breath and let our hearts shine again.
For the mothers around you to whom you are child or village, be your brightest light of love and heart. Let the world be filled with kindness and compassion. May your own light be true, so that it may smile upon the motherhood around you.
May your day be heartfull, let the moon guide you to the stars…
I was asked that question recently as part of an interview: “what is your greatest mistake”?
In the past I could have told you a hundred mistakes I had made. Everything I did I judged, nothing was ever “perfect”. It was all part of my library of how I was not enough.
But on this day, I had no answer. All those actions, words, stumbles, tears, laughs and paths of my past brought me here.
What to say in response then?
The truth is, I am here to be me and there is no mistake in that truth. Any mistake someone finds in me is simply a perception in time and I hope we can all learn to see those moments as opportunities to learn from each other.
My hope for our future
The question I hope we start asking: What is your greatest purpose?
May we not force each other to look at our pasts with the lens of judgement. May we instead ask each other how we are showing up today.
In the interviews today I want to know, why do you want to be here, with us, on this team?
Tell me who you are and your vision, let’s dream of what we can becomewhen we work together.
LM – I want to wear my princess dress. Me – OK Hon, go get it. LM – I not HON…goes to get her dress. Me – she is so HON LM – MAMA – I READY Me – Oh darlin, you are amazing
And I sit back and smile with my little HON in all her wild, glory.
Our adult rules, made to keep order in a world with it’s own frequency, it’s own order, an order of which we comprehend so little. We can control the world as much as we can control the imagination of our children. Though we have tried, is the better quest instead to celebrate and love?
Rather than control our day, each other, our happenings; I hope we can find ourselves and celebrate the beauty in the sunrise, the smile in each other, the joy in each moment.
Rather than feeling out of control, maybe we use that feeling as a reminder to put on our favorite anything, grab a smile, a best friend and be wild.
For we are only out of control, when we try to control.