Watching with Curiosity.

It's not his birthday. It's not a holiday or a milestone in life. This isn't a special time to celebrate him. But I need to and I want to... every.single.day.

I've never been a parent that is sick of my kid. I have never lamented how hard things are as we raise children. It ain't easy - this I know. But truth be told, I have always wanted to be his parent. From the moment I played with my first doll as a tot. I was destined to be a mom.

Not just A MOM...but HIS MOM.

I don't regret a moment of parenting him...or the family I have chosen.

He told me recently he felt like he is the black sheep of the family. I turned to him, chuckled, and said "well welcome to the flock...there are plenty of us here. You fit right in." IYKYK

Parenting is hard. All the college deans' lists going around and awards that kids receive. remind me that this human doesn't get the recognition he deserves.

He is a kind human. He is a fantastically curious human. A thoughtful and emotional human. An incredibly smart human. He's doing his best, but he is not afraid to grow. He knows this thing called life is an imperfect science and that life is about finding out more, trying harder, and growing bigger with each experience.

So while he searches for answers, I will be here for him. I will celebrate him at every turn and twist of life. All I can do is wait patiently, watch with curiosity, and love unconditionally. That's all we can ever do. That's all we ever need from each other. Honesty. Love. Patience. Kindness.

Letting go

I have spoken before about the beauty of letting go. I am mesmerized by the fall. We marvel at the leaves and the bright colors they turn before they fall to the ground. They serve us all summer with shade, protection, cool. And then when they are so tired, they fire up before they fade away.

It amazes me we don’t do this with humans…watch intently as they fade away into whatever takes us on. The miracle of life is as much at the end as it is at the beginning of life. We just don’t celebrate it. Everyone I have known that’s close to me that has passed away has always gifted me with something more magical than I was prepared for at the time. I just didn’t know what I was seeing in that moment.

Is that the problem? We don’t recognize what we see when we see it. Or do we need space from the beauty of it all so it can sink in?

This photo sat on my phone for a few months. It stopped me in my tracks today. I think because I didn’t think much of it at the time. I just discarded it as one of those things I see that I love…like the one zillion photos I have of the beach at sunset. It’s just another sunset. Just another beach. Just another leaf from a tree.

But really it isn’t. It’s all powerful. It all has tiny meaning as we shape ourselves into who we are. This leaf meant something to me at the time. And today, its message leaned in for a powerful whisper - like the warm whisper of a sweet lover - saying to me gently, again, that it’s okay to let go.

Practice.

Look! That’s me! And my sweetie pie!

I’ll admit, the first moment I saw this photo, I was triggered. Triggered by an old story in my head and an image of who I thought I SHOULD be for the world. In this photo, all I saw is who I thought I was on the outside. Old. Fat. Tired… just not good enough in anyway.

I let these thoughts seep into my soul slowly over a few days until I had a full on melt down. Tears and all. My life has come to a point and in so many ways this is NOT where I thought I would land. (I mean…is it EVER?!?!)

But the craziest part is when this photo was taken, I was so unbelievably happy! I was full of joy and freedom on this night. I was being taken out to a lovely, special dinner by the man I love. I was at a peaceful crossroads when we took this cocktail in hand, love in my heart, sunset at my back. And yet still in the beauty and bliss of this perfect evening, the dark cloud of self doubt began to creep in, making me question parts of me that I have long since laid to rest.

As I considered all of this, I realized the maybe I wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. Maybe my insecurities were being shaken up by the many other parts of me that were feeling off balance. I have been holding up all these buckets of responsibility for so long - buckets of navigating motherhood, self employment, life changes, my future, medical concerns. The list is endless. And burdensome.

While most of my life seems fairly well managed, perhaps putting down my worries for the day - actually tapping into joy - was what triggered me. I feel safe with this man. Protected. Loved - as I am, where I am. Maybe THAT was the vulnerability I was feeling. After all, how could someone like me even deserve someone like that?

This isn’t a cry for help. It’s not a desperate attempt to garner a compliment from someone. It’s the reality of being human and having emotions. it’s a direct result of ALL OF THE PIECES of my life at once. The good and the bad. It all adds up to one big emotion - at least for me.

Our hearts are frail and complex. And life is hard. No matter who you are or where you are going. Adversity can affect us in so many ways.

My only advice in this space is this: Practice love. Practice Acceptance. Practice forgiveness. And listen to yourself. Your voice is the most frequent one you hear. The practice is where the perfection lies.

Simply the Best

“In your heart I see the start of every night and every day
In your eyes, I get lost, I get washed away
Just as long as I'm here in your arms
I could be in no better place

You're simply the best
Better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I ever met…”

Tina Turner

One year

This is an excerpt from a story I have been writing about this man since he stumbled back into my life exactly a year ago. I feel so very lucky to have found love again in this life. I feel even luckier that it’s with him.

---

He showed up on a Wednesday on my front porch 20 years after we first met in a ceramics class he taught at the local museum. He, my handsome instructor, and me, his nervous student. The timing wasn’t right back then. But the (now) undisputed attraction and chemistry was there. It was magnetic. But I had someone I was seeing at the time. He met someone shortly after and our paths diverged for 20 years. Marriage. Kids…Life.

Last year, through the magic of Facebook, I reached out and sent a message to check in. “Thinking of you…How are you?” He responded by setting a date.

On the day he came to visit, he looked exactly the same as I remembered - handsome, chiseled, dimpled, with a head full of hair. His muscular arms wrapped around me when we nervously hugged in the threshold of my doorway. His body felt warm and good. He smelled delicious - simultaneously clean and masculine. I lost my breath in that moment, nervous from the anticipation of the day.

He came in that morning and we made nervous small talk. We got something to drink and sat cordially at the dining room table stumbling through conversation.

And then, like magic, we leaned into our first date. The words came out like a waltz. Stories spilled out of us that day, knitting together the holes in the fabric we left behind. Stories of his marriage breaking up. Stories of my broken relationships. Stories of parents and grandparents now gone. Stories of children and love and heartbreak… all stitched awkwardly together by the leftover shards of ribbon and yarn and remnants of who we once were and who we are now.

We went to the beach that afternoon, swimsuits and boogie board in tow. We flirted and floated our way through that day. We walked the beach and found sharks teeth and seashells. We passed gentle glances and lost ourselves in each other. He touched my arm. I felt dizzy. We drank beer on the beach like a couple of rebels. We never ever ran out of words. We melted into that long day like ice cream in July - a delicious mess.

We danced in the risk of each other, uncovering the hurt and pain and fear and shame that had been buried deep within us. Every shared breath between us felt like clean, clear water washing away the layers of thick, heavy, putrid, pluff mud that my soul had been buried under for years. I felt weightless around him - like floating in the salty sea, waves of joy tumbling and tossing me aimlessly around. I was uninhibited…overjoyed…full.

I waited a lifetime to find him and for him to find me, and yet I feel like we have known each other all along. Each story he tells me, I feel deeply connected to…almost like I am there – present in his memories, a part of his past. Each moment between us feels as new and familiar as anything I have felt in my life. It is comforting and comfortable to know someone like this. It’s incredible to trust someone so quickly. But the best gift is when they feel the same way, too, and you know it without it being spoken.

---

After a year, I can say this - don’t discount all your experiences with love because it comes in different forms at different times of life. All of it is important. Be patient and kind with your precious heart. And remember to look for someone who does the same for you.

I love you, JN. You make me happier than bacon and sausage.

Cannonball

Have you ever stood on the edge of something afraid of what might come of it? Afraid to jump in because of all the things you DON’T know?

A year ago, I took a chance on something life changing. I sent a little message that said little more than “I’m thinking of you and I hope you are well...” The response I got back was exactly the result I was looking for - sweet, silly and full of hope. And yet, for some reason it shocked me. Even after I jumped into those warm waters and swam around in the answer I had been wishing for, even after I could touch the bottom and remembered how to swim in the familiarity of acceptance and hope, doubt came creeping in like a kudzu vine, trying with all it’s might to strangle the life out of me.

Fear was all it was. Fear of rejection. Fear of being betrayed by my gut. Fear of wanting something that wouldn’t manifest into little more than it had for the past 20 years. All these negative thoughts flooded into my heart from a simple message exchange.

And yet…

There was courage underneath it all. The blind faith I had in myself for no reason. The courage to send the message in the first place. The strength to shut down the voice of doubt in my head. The courage to listen to myself and trust the process - whatever it was bringing my way. And the faith in who I was…faith to be all of me.

Nowadays, I finally have the courage to bring all the parts of me to the table without hiding who I think I am supposed to be for someone else. It’s not easy, and I still work on it daily. We live in a world that tells us not to be who we are. We live from a place where the rules set us all up to fail - because the rest of the world profits more when you don’t measure up. And boy oh boy, am I a good customer when it comes to that buy in! But in all truth, we are okay as we are. It’s all okay. Be yourself. You may not be able to please everyone, but you shouldn’t. Frankly, none of us should fit a mold. We should live with authenticity - fearlessly and unabashedly swimming around in who we are.

If I didn’t cannonball myself into the pool of self doubt and fear trying over and over again, I wouldn’t be where I am today – madly in love with someone I never thought I’d have a second chance with. He’s smart, kind, compassionate, creative, talented, and…oh, yeah - handsome. That cannonball into the pool of fear was the best thing I did. Because even though I doubted myself at the time, I really do know how to swim through anything. Even the muddy, dark, deep, cold parts. You just paddle madly and keep your nose above water. Eventually you find the place you can touch down again.

So do it. Dive in. Cannonball yourself into that big, blue pool. Don’t worry, the water’s fine. And if you are afraid, we will all be here to catch you with some pink pool floats if you forget how to swim or fear grabs you from the deep end.

'Tis the Season

I have been noticeably absent these days around here. My blogs, instagram, and facebook accounts have all taken a huge hit. And it’s with good reason. Life has swept me up in it’s wake.

Sometimes (more often over the past few years) when this happens, it’s due to some really hard times. Dealing with the death of my parents, my sister, and life somehow all seemed to overshadow so much in my life. I slid into the dark side of depression and anxiety and didn’t know how to get out.

But recently, I have reason to be joyful…or maybe that’s just how aIl see it all now. A few things turned around for me this year which brought some tremendous joy into my life. But truth be told, the rest of my life hasn’t changed. I still grieve the loss of my parents every now and again. I still struggle some months with the balance of work and life. I still have a fully grown, driving, teenager who is soon to be on the way out the door. So why couldn’t I see my life with joy before? Why does one change in life change the filter at which we look through the rest our lives? Why can’t life just show us pleasure no matter what juncture we are at?

I have been thinking about this each morning as I sit here under the Christmas lights, taking in the meaning of the season. Whether you practice Christianity or not, I think we can all agree that pausing in gratitude and with love for what we DO have is what this time of year is about.

So for now, I will sit under the Christmas tree that hasn’t been switched off since I put it up and feel gratitude for all the things I have… a warm home, some delicious food in my fridge, a healthy family, and a whole lotta love to give.

Into the light...

“What are you looking for? “

“You…my love. I have been looking for you.”

And they walked away, fingers forever entertwined, forging a whole new path together led by their brave and fragile hearts.

Wild love.

"Sometime's hope will look a lot like you." Unknown

It's Christmas.

I didn't do a card this year. In the past, we have had some winners. The first one was you as a naked baby sitting on a stool with little, white, drawn-on angel wings attached to you. That's where we started. And truth be told, we are still there. I could draw wings on you in this photo and it would be very fitting. You amaze me still...every day and in every way. Your heart is kind and full and ready to give. Your soul is like gold. To me, you look a lot like hope.

But we are at 15 now. It's been a tough year for you so far. Fifteen is hard. Between hormones and high school, you have been battled, beaten and worn down. But you just keep getting back up, facing it every day in the only ways you know how at 15. By flying with those wings.

I have admittedly been worried about you lately. It's what parents do. I know you feel it, too. The future is looming. There is so much pressure to Be and Do and Achieve. The expectations that life puts on you at this age are unfair. I don't buy into them. And yet, I still fret. I worry because I am unsure of what life holds - not only for you, but for me. I am unsure of how much to push, force, or encourage you to do things like study for an English exam or practice guitar. The doubt and pressure you are feeling are most certainly trickling down from me standing on a little shaky ground of my own.  Some of it matters. And some of it just doesn't. It's a fine line that is a unclear to a lot of people.

I saw a video the other day. It said something I was so sure of and I will never forget. It said "The world is desperate now. It is desperate for unconditional, wild, defiant love. Be that love."

I may be unclear about many things, but if there is one thing I am sure of it's this...we need love. Wild love. Unconditional love. Defiant love. So stay on your path...this path of kindness, empathy, caring. It's in you.  Be brave with your self because your self is beautiful. Spread it around like confetti. It may hurt sometimes, but I know one thing: the world needs more of you.

Merry Christmas, my wild love. You are all I could ever hope for in this world.

Cultivating Kindness

Today has been an awfully hard day. The biggest mass shooting in American history just happened. It seems a little disingenuous of me not to mention that out of the gate. People are hurting and in pain. Even the ones not related to the shooting or the victims are carrying a burden today.

And yet...

And yet, all I can think of – all I can muster up the strength for today - is love and kindness. All I know how to do is to give love somehow. All I can say to everyone I know - whether I know them or not - is that I love them. I love them DESPITE our difference of opinion in gun control. I love them DESPITE the fact that we grew up so very differently. I love them DESPITE the fact that I don't know them.

I find that, generally speaking, this is all we ever need: someone to love us, to hear us, to see us. Right where we are in the present moment. And that requires us to get up close and personal with each other. It requires us to get to know one another on a fundamental level. Moreover, it requires us to get to know ourselves on a fundamental level. Live with our truths and speak them. It requires that we live with them, side by side, day in and day out, and accept them for what they are.

I struggle with stating my truth sometimes. Like many of us, I suffer with I-wonder-what-they-will-think-of-me-itis. Will I offend them? Will they "unfriend" me? Will my business suffer because of this? I become the Switzerland of social media. Not commenting. Not voicing what I feel in my bones. Perhaps my silence is not a sign of passivity. Maybe it's not because I feel powerless around you, but more because I feel the visceral contempt you have for my political beliefs is the opposite of that which I seek: LOVE. TRUTH. BEAUTY.  KINDNESS. COMPASSION.

So now each day, I start there. I start with Kindness. I begin with compassion. I seek out love and belonging. And then I let it take fire. I spread it around however I can. Is it perfect? No. But it's a place to begin... a place to breathe into.

_________________________

I woke up this morning feeling helpless for the world. People were already arguing on Facebook about our President reacting or not reacting. They were already slinging insults over their rights for guns and their panic over gun control as they watched their kids walk into school, some wondering if they were safe today. Was it going to be their baby next? Their concert going teenager? The conversation was already heavy. And I hadn't even had a cup of coffee.

As I sat in traffic after dropping my tired and grumpy teenager off at school, I took a giant deep breath into my heart and I let it go. I envisioned micro packets of love and kindness riding dancing around like little dandelion seeds. They circled me, my car, and swirled around outside of me into the universe, dropping microdrops of love everywhere. Maybe they landed on the grass, or a windshield, or just floated aimlessly up into the sky. Dancing freely, looking for something to plant themselves into...looking for fertile ground to take root.

A Father's Day Tribute

My crazy, mixed up, loving crew.

By all accounts, this shouldn't work.

We are the most unlikely family, filled to the brim with our own set of colossally hard issues and significant problems. Together, through this thing called parenting, we have raced against a losing current and hurdled over more obstacles than an Olympic horse jumping event. 

Yet, somehow...

Somehow, against all odds, the better advice of therapists, friends and our families, with a lot of time, effort and communication, something sticks us together like bonding glue. Through it all, we have we cobbled together a family and a history that normal people wouldn't stand a chance with. Some days I am surprised we are still standing here in the middle of this life together.

But that's us. Against all odds. Different. Like a mix of ingredients for a dish that sounds really bad on paper... until suddenly you taste it and you are transported to a new world, full of flavor, character and spice. We are an unusual blend of flavors that somehow fits together.

So now we stand, shoulder to shoulder, 15 years into this game changing thing called parenting. It's been back breaking work together and apart. (Or at the very least, wine glass breaking). Some days, I really don't know how we have made it this far.

What I do know is that listening has worked. Hard work has worked. Bloody, sweaty, tear-filled hard work. Gut-wrenching hard work.

But mostly, Love has worked. Unlikely, unconventional, unrelenting Love.

Happy Father's Day.

A day off

An iPhone shot of my long day away.

This weekend, after working for about 4 weeks with no break, I did something uncharacteristically me. I took a whole day off. No emailing. No photo editing. No picture taking (except with an iphone). Nothing. I needed to get away from social media, email, photoshop and all the things that pull me in a million different directions.

This happened after a bit of a realization on my end on Saturday and something I admitted out loud: I wasn't happy.

Don't get me wrong. I am filled with appreciation and gratitude for everything I DO have in my life. But something wasn't jelling with me. Too much work and stimulation. Not enough downtime. Too much pleasing everyone. Not enough pleasing myself. There have been deadlines and hustling and meetings and computer time. But everything in my life felt a little chaotic.

This was a sign to me that I was overdue some time to decompress. I needed to do something for me. Self care and self preservation is most important. So, I headed to the beach where I always feel like I can breathe again and plopped myself down and decided to just BE.

I talked to a friend. I sat and stared at the waves. I watched my son swim and frolic in the sea. I walked along the edge of the shore. I dug my feet in the sand and let it crumble between my toes. I did all of this, over and over again, until I felt better. I did it until I realized that all the things we feel and see and want are all only dictated by the stories in our head. I did it until i realized what I really wanted was right in front of me, right at that very moment. Peace. Love. Friends. Family. It was all right there.

Often when we go seeking what we want more of, we realize it's been right there with us all along. For me, it's always been helpful to strip away the noise...the cell phones, the computers, the deadlines and the things-to-do lists. I can come back to what's real and what's most important...

For me all it boils down to is love. Pure and simple love.

On feeling safe

I think there is an element to all of us that wants to feel protected, safe and embraced. Somehow, though, the older we get, the harder this is to achieve - or at least admit outloud. We are supposed to protect ourselves and be strong enough to hold ourselves up. We shouldn't need the strong arms of protection wrapped around us at 14 or 44 or 84. There is this unspoken expectation that we should just automatically feel that we can deal with anything life throws at us no matter what.

But life is scary and hard and overwhelming when you go it alone - trust me, I know. And truthfully – on some level – I think we all want to feel safe. So how can we feel safe and embraced and protected where we are? What are the things that ground us into feeling this way? Is it money in the bank? Friends that have your back? A strong family support? Is it love? Does love simply by definition make us feel safe?

The more we talk about this, the easier it seems. Showing vulnerability makes lots of (but not all of) those we love come out and show empathy. We find our tribe when we become vulnerable. We find those that say "me too" and "you've got this" and "I have your back." Perhaps that's all we really need - to feel a sense of belonging in the world. And every so gently, the strong arms that protected us when we were oh so little turn into simple phrases like "I love you." "I am here for you." "I have got your back." "You've got this." 

Love

Love. From the graffiti wall in Austin, TX.

I love lots of things. I love colorful, bold, unashamed, standout love. I love dogs and kittens and horses. I love babies and old people and everyone in between. I love you! I love my friends and my family. I love the warm sunshine and the soothing, cool rain. I love the way the world smells in the early summer in Charleston. I love berries and pineapple and home grown tomatoes. I love my home and my pets and travel. I love my son.

There are also things I don't love. I don't love heat or humidity. I don't love raw onions or melons or cucumbers much. I don't love spiders of mosquitoes or cockroaches. I don't love the little gum balls that fall out of the trees in my yard because they are spiny and hurt to step on with bare feet.

But I recognize that each of the things in the world have a place. I recognize that there is a bigger picture other than what I like or want. I know mosquitoes help feed bats. I know those spiny gumballs grow big trees that supply oxygen to the world. I know that some people actually LIKE cucumbers and melon - and that's okay with me!

I don't think about the things I don't love much. But I do spend a lot of time thinking about the things I do love. And under no circumstances do the things that I don't love in this world make me want to hurt someone or something. There has never been an occasion I wanted to kill someone because they thought differently than me. Maybe I have been frustrated by our conversation or differences. But I never want to cause harm or pain. We have enough of that.

I don't know what the answers are right now. But I can't help but think that focusing more on what we love and have in common would be a good place to start.

So let's start here. With Love. Big, colorful, standout, proud love.

Learning to fly

I recently posted this photo of my boy on my personal Facebook page. It got some unusual attention from friends and family alike - not because it's a particularly good photograph, but perhaps because of the caption I wrote with it:

"My heart. Just roaming this planet. All exposed to the elements and the cruelty and the joys of life. With no protective gear. Just some love from his momma. I do love him ever so much."

I think this resonates with all of us, doesn't it.

To me, parenting is a lot like watching my heart roam naked around the planet. All the vulnerability we have is exposed to the elements - joy, pain, fear, frustration, love -  walking around with nothing to protect them. That's how it feels to be this person's mother.

When they are little it's easier. They stay closer. And the problems are more clear cut: I'm hungry. I'm tired. I'm wet. I'm frustrated. But as they grow and learn and start to spread their wings and fly, the issues life deals them aren't so black and white. Problems become more complicated. The topography of life changes - the dips in the road, the twists and turns, the mountains to climb...they are all there. And all you can do for them is sit and watch and hope you have done a good job at giving them a half-way decent road map to all of it.

As my son ages, the complexity of parenthood becomes more and more apparent. Gone are the days of kissing boo boos away, wiping the tears and giving him a Popsicle to forget his troubles. There are no more easy distractions from frustrations, pain or hurt. He is just there. Exposed to it all.

And learning to fly on his own.

There is only love.

Some days I want to jump in and swim to the other side. Float into the land of glee and ease where the clouds are made of cotton candy and the stars twinkle like diamonds in the night sky.

In my mind, the other side is cool and sunny with soft grass beneath your feet. It's filled with music and laughter, with the right amounts of everything. The other side has just enough of everything, but never too much of anything.

On the other side there is no pain or hurt. There is no anger. No frustrations. On the other side, there is only love.

There is only love.

Love

Let love guide you.

Let it guide every decision you make and every breath you take. Let it wash over you in a way that water does for your thirsty soul. Let it enter every breath you take and every move that happens each day.

Let love show you the way out of the darkness and into the light. Let it show you all the good and all the bad parts of life, even when you aren't ready to see them. Let love shine out of your face and seep from your pores.

Let love be the answer. To everything.

Take care.

Morning rituals - fresh juice and avocado toast on Ezekiel bread. Sunday bacon for the win.

Take care of yourself. Kindly and with purpose. Gently over breakfast, or fiercely over your morning sweat. Take time for rest. Spend moments on yourself. Eat. Sleep. Play. Work. Find some spiritual center - in God, or on the beach, or a under a leaf. Find a place that you feel really small. Find a place that you feel really big. They are both really important to finding the balance we all strive for.

Just take the time to take the care of you that you deserve. You are worth it.