Help.

A lot of memories all in one place.

Yesterday afternoon, in true New Year’s fashion, we disassembled the Christmas tree. Ornament by ornament. Memory by memory. We dismantled the fragrant and not-so-dead-after-all tree.

While this is nothing remarkable (I mean, let’s face it, we ALL take the tree down at some point), it was remarkable to me. This was the first year in all the years I can remember that I had help dismantling the Christmas tree.

Maybe you are shrugging your shoulders right now thinking to yourself, “So what…”

The thing is, I am not very good at asking for help. I am even less good at receiving it.

For me, the help I always needed has never really been there…partially by design and partially because when I asked for help, it never came to me - at least not how I was expecting it. So I figured out life on my own. I became a “do-it-yourself” kinda gal. I never wanted to risk the disappointment of being told no, so I decided there wasn’t much I couldn’t do by myself.

The thing is, I tried to do this alone. For some reason, my guys weren’t having it. They pitched in and we had decorations out of here and life back to a semi-normal state within the hour. Record time. This could have taken me up to 3 days to get it taken down, packed up, and cleaned away if I was alone.

The help I desire to ask for runs deeper than help with the Christmas decorations. It’s in every facet of my life. Sure, I have stepped away from things from time to time and let someone take the wheel… But it’s never been easy for me.

Help came last month when I needed it…in a big way. Christmas was coming and we had an unexpected passing in our family. When my people came to me and said “we are here, tell us what we can do for you…” I felt a sudden relief from the pressure. We all pitched in and had maybe one of the best Christmases I can remember in recent years.

So maybe the key to happiness - or even the key to life - is acceptance. Acceptance of help, of love, and of truth. Acceptance of whatever is in front of you. I have spent so much time pushing it all away that it’s time to embrace that which was meant for me.

And that includes all the help I can get.

Beginning again.

I am stepping gently into 2025 right now.

I am not grabbing it by the horns or seizing the day. I am walking cautiously ahead. Quietly. Easefully.

Like you, I’ve done the resolutions before. I’ve done the “word of the year.” I have done the vision boards and journaling and enough goal setting to make a corporate CEO promote me to become their right hand man. I have done it all. And you know what I have learned: life has it’s own plan.

That’s not to say I am giving up, or without goals or a vision for the rest of my life. I have vision and purpose. I have things I am trying to accomplish in the rest of my days here on this planet. But I know things all work out in due time…which is not necessarily MY time.

If last year taught me anything, it was to expect a lot of changes in plans. This has happened to me a lot in my adult life. And as I write these words, I am trying to teach my adult son that those curve balls life launches at you are there to make you a stronger human capable of big things. The better you handle those minor setbacks, the better your outlook on life becomes.

December was particularly hard this year. We had a lot of pivoting to do including the loss of my future Mother-in-law. It came on fast and furious and seemed to swallow us whole during the holidays. For the first time in 40 years, I wasn’t “home” for the holidays. And you know what? I think it was my favorite holiday yet!

One thing that got me through the holidays this year was a text from a friend that reached out. In the middle of funeral planning and life happening, I was getting stressed about not having done anything. We had no tree up, no presents were bought, no cookies were baked. And I was just not feeling it.

“I’ve done nothing for Christmas yet…” I bemoaned in a text message.

Her response stuck with me and became my guiding light through the end of a difficult time. “You really don’t have to “do” anything.” She said. “It’s about being with the people you love and celebrating the promise of new/continuing life in winter’s darkness. I bet you are perfectly prepared for that. You can buy shit anytime.”

And with that, I pivoted.

Everything became easier. All my decisions became more clear. The pressure fell away. We had each other and we would all be together and that’s really all that mattered at the time. My focus changed from what I wouldn’t get done to what I could get done. And with that, Christmas was reborn for me.

So that’s how I am going into the new year. I don’t have to set intentions or goals. I don’t have to color in a vision board or scratch words into a journal. It’s about having a purpose to get up every day…for you, that may be the gym. For me right now, it’s spending time with myself and family, giving everything and everyone the grace and space they need to move ahead.

Each day has a promise… and that promise is to begin again. That’s all we can do while we have the time to do it here on earth.

Begin again.

Letting go of worry

I strive for this level of peace in my heart, comfort with my body, and overall lack of worry.

“If there is a way to overcome a situation, then instead of feeling too much sadness, fear or anger, make an effort to change the situation. If there is nothing you can do to overcome the situation, then there is no need for fear or sadness or anger. Face the facts and the reality. Fear is part of human nature. It is a natural response that comes in the face of danger. But, in fact, when real danger comes you can be more fearless and more realistic. On the other hand, when you let your fear run wild, you can exacerbate the situation further and bring more fear…live your life with purpose.”

---

I read this quote from the Dalai Lama in a book I am reading right now - JOY - recommended to me by my brother-in-law about a year ago. The book is a record of conversations between the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu - two of the greatest leaders in our world.

The book is interesting, but this one quote has completely stood out to me. It stopped me in my tracks…not because of it’s complexity, but rather it’s simplicity.

I have spent a tremendous amount of time in my life worrying about things that never come to fruition. I worry about everything and nothing. I worry about things that won’t matter in the long run…about feelings I have hurt or those that have hurt me. The amount of time I spend fretting over things is astounding and could probably give me a second career if it paid well.

I have been working with a coach lately. The past 6 months have been extremely hard for me. I struggled with depression and anxiety worse than I can remember in my 50+ years on this planet, most of it for no good reason. I am learning what triggers me, what I need to do, and how to fulfill my own needs as a human. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

Or is it?

Maybe the key to happiness and ending suffering - as the Dalai Lama said - is in the letting go. Maybe the key is in the reflection of what really matters. I am not sure where it all got off track. Was it when my parents died? When I became estranged from my sister? Was it when I ran out of money and work during the pandemic? Or is it leftover from the pandemic? Maybe it’s all of it….

What I do know is the letting go feels so complicated. Perhaps this is because I am making it hard. Perhaps I don’t know what I’d do without the death grip of anxiety. Would I know what to do next? How to breathe? How to exist?

I do know that I will try daily to make this a practice. Stop running away from the things I can fix and manage them better. It’s really the least I can do for me.

Give yourself grace in this complicated world. life is too short to carry the burdens for others. Let them go - here, now, forever. And take care of yourself.

Shattered truths

My family, in the early 1970s, looking alarmingly functional.

If there is one thing I have learned in my 50 years on this planet it’s that relationships are complicated. And as time travels on, they become more layered and knotted up like a tangle of delicate necklaces we try desperately not to break apart as we unravel them, searching for the strands that belong to us.

---

I just spent the last few weeks listening to the book, SPARE, written by Prince Harry.

There were parts of this book that didn’t really hold my attention - parts about his service in the military, searching for himself in his 20s, and the constant partying. As a 50 year old American woman, I was bored… almost disappointed in some of it. But there was a piece of it that kept me coming back - the piece about family and relationships.

No doubt, Prince Harry’s life is more complex than my little old existence. But what struck me most as the common connection between us was how complicated our immediate relationships can be - royal or not. As family members, close friends, partners, we tend to put expectations on each other, often higher than any of us can meet. As incosequential as some of these expectations can be, they can have such a significant impact on us.

As I listened intently at the growing tension between Harry and William, the complexities of adding partners, children, and even partners from different backgrounds coming together, I was reminded of the dynamics in my own family. Even now - or maybe especially now that there are really only two of us left - the drift is apparent.

What Spare reflected to me is that nobody is “spared” this dynamic in life. Not even the royal family. No amount of money or bodyguards or status can spare us of the complexities of relationships…particularly those we are born into.

I always assumed my life would be pretty amazing. I came from what I thought was a fairly regular life and upbringing. (Perhaps that was my first lesson in reality checks). The delusion that my life was going to be as neat and tidy as a freshly folded basket of laundry was my first lesson in life. We all have messy parts. And the older I got, the more clear these fragmented parts have became.

The best part for me was that there was a lot of love growing up. Pure love. I have been lucky enough to know real love from most of my close relationships. But love is about a lot more than LOVE. It’s about listening, compromise, understanding, and grace. It’s a give and take. It’s being there when we don’t agree with each other and not putting a hash mark on your column because of a misstep or a difference of opinion. It’s working things out.

Mostly, love comes from our own selves. Giving YOURSELF the grace and understanding you deserve starts first with you. It starts with Kindness. Trust. Gentle care. And deep listening.

As I continue to process all of my relationships (it’s a daily task), examining them from all available sides (some that are clear and some that are a little blurry), I can tell you this: most all of us are all just trying to be the best we can for those we love most. Sometimes we need to make choices based on what we think is true and what feels right to us. And that’s okay because truly at the end of it all, you really have to rely on yourself. Bonus points though if you have a relationship or two to see you through - be it a sibling, friend, or partner.

I have a special love for my family. Anyone I am connected to by blood feels like an strong link in the chain that makes up the intricate and complicated story of my life. That’s a given. But, just as Harry had to figure his truths out, so do the rest of us. And sometimes what’s true to one person isn’t always truth for the next. That’s the tricky part.

So forge ahead. You do you. Just know that you may have to walk around shards of pointed truths, often getting hurt in the process, before finding the scraps of truth that belong to you.

Twenty Two

Twenty-two.

As I write this entry, I remember you. Twenty-two years ago today, I was making a big pot of chili with some added flavor from the hot sauce Scott had made me from the our little summer garden on Stewart Street. I had thought about you a lot that day as I gazed at my plump, melon-shaped belly, imagining what you’d be like, who you’d look like, what was in for us.

I couldn’t have begun to imagine this life you gave me.

As I settled in that evening, I remember the calmness I felt. There was a knowing that washed over me that everything would be okay. It was a deep knowing that we were gonna be just fine despite the whispers and worries of friends and family. I wasn’t worried.

You see, I knew you were meant to be. I knew we were meant to be.

I loved you before you were born…before I ever conceived you really. A friend of mine looked at me when you were around 3 months old and said “Can you even imagine what your life was like before this?”

The truth is, I never could. I never did. You came along and just put it all in focus, painting the details in for me so I could finally see what was real. You made the impossible POSSIBLE. It’s one of your subtle gifts.

Watching you grow up has been my greatest privilege and honor. All those days at the beach and making grilled cheeses and doing legos and carpool went by at warp speed. I always wanted it to slow down. Enjoy the party. You are such a gift to me…to this world. I am excited to see the directions your life takes you and what you do with this one precious life. I will always be there, rooting for you, cheering from the sidelines.

I say this all the time to you, but don’t let the world tell you who to be. Don’t let me or Scott tell you what’s right for you. Or your friends. Or bosses. Only you know what’s right. Get quiet. Be still. And be you. Authentically you. Gloriously you. Unapologetically you.

Because the one thing I do know is that this world needs as much of you as it can get.

I love you.

Momma.

Back to the Basics

I am tired. Weary.

I am tired of feeling like I am not enough…and yet, somehow, too much.

I am sick of being sold shit at EVERY DAMN MOMENT of my life. Since when did we need so much CRAP!

I am tired of toxic positivity. Not every day needs to be slayed. Really. Some days you need to just rest.

I am over caring about anything but comfort. That goes for clothes. Routines. Food. Work. And the rare show I decide to watch (I’m looking at you Fraiser).

I am tired of politics. The pitting against each other. The bickering. The back and forth. The aggressive behavior on both side. It’s humiliating to watch. Like being inside of a massively dysfunctional family dynamic that none of us can escape from.

I am sick of feeling responsibility for everything because I am a sponge for others emotions. For the love of god, someone out there please tell me how to be Teflon.

I am tired of all of the minutia that occupies my brain when I could be doing something useful with it…coming up with better ideas for living a smaller life and making a difference for those I know and love. The only change I can influence is my immediate circle. I have found that it’s rare to make a statement that can change the world. But you can do things to change your world.

I am tired of living large. Dreaming big. I want simple. I want to feel full of heart when I look at the ocean, or a little hermit crab, or a bird perched on my fence post, or a flock of Canadian geese flying in formation. I want to see the wonder in how bees work together and feel fresh air on my face and be so excited that my legs covered in cellulite and scars can still hold me upright after 50+ years. What a MIRACLE it would be to LOVE ourselves as we are.

I am just done.

So for now, you may find me doing the simple things. I will keep posting about the things that feel pure and fill my heart. I will find magic in the minutia. You can find me there…in the garden watching the bees, or at the beach looking for that perfect shell, laying on my back watching clouds change shape as they float by. Looking at flowers as they open wide and fireflies as they LITERALLY produce a magical glowing light from their bodies. I’ll be chasing waterfalls and searching for stars in the sky and rainbows after a storm.

I am going back to the beginning when things were simpler and curiosity was what ruled the day.

I am going back - back to the basics.

A world in a bloom

Nature is captivating.

I’ve always been fascinated by nature. It’s rhythms. It’s relentless forging ahead - regardless of who’s on board or not. She pulls us all forward along this path called life. No reason. No rationale. Mother nature does her job on a micro and macro level.

I thought about this a lot the other day. This bloom was mesmerizing up close. Stamens. Pistils. And those luscious, red, velvety petals. It was fascinating. An entire world in something smaller than my hand. And that’s only the parts I could see. If I zoomed in, I wonder what other discoveries I would make…what miraculous small worlds I would uncover.

On the flip side, what if I zoomed out. Way out….

That little flower is part of a bigger picture. Part of a bigger fabric of life. Food for insects and energy for hummingbirds. Shelter for critters. And even beauty for the rest of us to gaze upon and treasure.

If you zoom out even further, the humble flower becomes almost insignificant. You no longer see it. You see a forest and tree tops. Zoom out even further it becomes part of a broader landscape - unseen from the air. Keep going and eventually all you see is a blue and white marble floating through space.

The older I get, the more I zoom out…so to speak. I see those details as a part of a bigger whole. I don’t need explanations or reasons. I just need to know that the earth keeps spinning and we keep plodding along day after day.

But sometimes I need to zoom in. I need to see the miracles of the smallest details that make me important and relative. I need to feel that my small contribution to this planet is worth something - no matter how small. I need to be curious about what’s close to me and not take for granted that this world - my world and all it’s pieces and parts - will continue on tomorrow or the next day whether anyone else notices or not.

The duality of this dynamic is not lost on me. How we can be seemingly insignificant, yet part of a bigger fabric of life or nature or this universe is a balance I think we all need to think about.

If you ask me, everything is important. We need all of us…all of the things that make this world go around. The individual is as important as the whole. The microcosms are as significant as the macroview. It’s a balance. A yin and yang. A pendulum that has to exist so that this little world keeps spinning.

And all those flowers have a chance to bloom.

Lying in the grass

Oh the backyard clover…

I lay there in the grass, plush comforter underneath my body, soft, fluffy clouds drifting by over my head. The air was as soft as cotton sheets wrapped around me and smelled like the spring of my childhood - sweet and perfumed with freshly cut grass, late season iris blooms and honeysuckle.

I noticed things in the grass I don’t take the time to look at anymore. I noticed tiny ants marching along in line with one another - not so aimlessly, but almost on a mission. I noticed caterpillars munching on garden leaves and busy bees buzzing around clover blooms. Taking their time to drink it all in.

I moved with the sun…out of it when it was too much. Into it when I needed it’s warmth.

I thought about all these things I used to do. When I was younger, more free, unencumbered by life. I used to linger over the little things. When did I get so busy? Why is there so much information in my face all the time? Where did all these useless emails to answer come from? When did I become a grown up? And why-oh-why can’t I make decisions as solidly as I did as a little girl?

When did I get so lost?

Maybe the choices were easier back then. Grape or orange soda? Hot dog or tuna fish sandwich? Play a game inside or tag outside? Maybe I am lost in the complexity of life. Choices feel bigger now…a sort of life-or-death situation.

---

I lay there all day that day, unable to get up and unwilling to move. Paralyzed by life and what had come of it. I lingered all afternoon - swept up in the most basic pleasures of the world. Sitting in the sunshine looking for 4 leaf clovers. Drinking ice cold tea from a glass with a straw. At ease.

I thought of my younger self a lot that day. How hurt she was. How lost she had been and become. I thought of her and how she never thought she had any help. Maybe she didn’t want help…or didn’t know how to ask for it. Maybe she only wanted certain kinds of help. The kind of help that was on her terms…not the kind of help that the youngest person in the family gets which is always unsolicited and condescending.

That little girl in me laid there all afternoon…thinking about things…crying sometimes…curiously searching for 4 leaf clovers…did they even exist? Why are they so hard to find? Why are the good things so elusive?

---

How do we get so far off course? When do we lose our curiosity…our sense of play and wonder? Is it when we are trying to fit into the scheme of life in our teens, desperately not trying to call attention to ourselves. Or maybe it happens when we watch others. We begin the complexity of wanting.

We are paralyzed in our want these days. The trap of wanting is a real thing. At my age, I don’t care as much as I used to. I am comfortable enough in my surroundings and I am at the end of the search for accepting myself. So life seems okay.

So, the question is this: why am I pushing so hard and what exactly am I pushing? Should I just walk away? Will it all come crashing down?

---

It’s good to watch the rhythm of life every now and again…lie in the grass and just watch the ants marching to their nests and the bees buzzing around collecting nectar. For me, the best thing I can do now is to watch the seasons begin as I observe gently as the other ends. It gives me balance in my brain…a recognition that things always change and life always has a way of continuing on just as it needs to. Even when those ants are lugging around things bigger than them, they seem to know when to put it down, when to signal for help, or just when to stop. Even when the bee is fed up of searching for it’s nectar, it knows just how and where to rest and take a moment.

Maybe the answers are in slowing down. Laying in the grass. Letting that little girl inside me get what she deserves - peace, simple pleasures, rest, and stillness - so she can quit trying to be the adult here and run a show that is too big for her.

Time for a break. Time to rest.

Pushing my Limits

I have been pushing my limits this year.

Not to toot my own horn…none of these things have been life altering boundaries or obstacles. But I have continued to do the things that I thought were beyond me. I overcome some pretty big hurdles that I kept me in the zone of “this can’t be done” and pushed me right over to the “well look at me go!” side of things.

Honestly, I am surprising myself.

Most of it has been professional….and a few personal hurdles have been scattered around there. What I find most jarring though all this growth is how stuck I am in so many old beliefs…those old stories that just don’t seem to want to quit nagging my brain.

Why can’t I see that they are just like the email I got about a button not working on a website or incorporating new techniques into video edits. All these things are just challenges…little and large puzzles to be solved.

I guess it all sums up to what we give power to. The things that we feel small around are often the things that make us run and hide like a little girl hearing overhearing her parents arguing or a dog looking for it’s safe place a thunderstorm.

I am working hard at unlocking the puzzle of power within my own self this year. Things I want to know are things like where and when we hand it over, why we feel powerless, what makes us quake in our boots, and mostly, how to grab it back. What I don’t want is to feel a toddler fighting to get back his little toy train. I want to stand with presence in the face of fear…a calm knowing that I can bravely reclaim myself, my space, and my bravery.

All so I can just simply reclaim my power.

Easter Sunday

Sweet little Easter eggs, just waiting to be made into something magical…

Today is Easter Sunday.

It’s one of my favorite days of the year. Or…it used to be.

There is something so magical about this time of year. Flowers blooming. Gardens changing. Easter baskets. Egg hunts. Brunches with mimosas and family. And the symbolism of rebirth is all around us. It’s just very special to me.

But lately - especially this year - I am spending Easter Sunday a bit differently. My son is grown and at a concert this weekend. My fiance is spending time with his aging parents today. My best friend is on a European adventure. And the rest of my family is…well…doing their own thing I guess.

One thing spring harkens is that change is evident. Always. And nothing shows this phenomonon better than Easter. Expect the unexpected is the clear message we get on this day. Miracles abound. But somehow, today has felt less than miraculous and a little more regular and mundane.

So I am spending the afternoon looking for a different kind of magic. I am searching for small miracles. Messages from my son saying he’s fine and on the way home. New plants growing out in the garden. And the bluebirds that have been hanging around my yard today singing songs of joy. It’s a sunny, clear, gorgeous day that I can only be thankful for - despite all the changes that have settled in.

And all I hear in my heart now is this clear and vibrant message: “Life is right here outside your door, my love. It’s playing a game of hide and seek with you. Come out and play.”

March 16, 2024

ENGAGED!

A long time ago, I felt like I got lost along the way. And with the heaviness of life and the burdens of the world, I stayed there…for a long time. I trudged along hoping to find a way back - back to the light with my pack of misfits. Each day, we got deeper into a path that nobody knew how to navigate. Wild, overgrown, and disorienting, I searched for a way out if it all. But through the mud as I marched on, things got heavier, darker…more confusing. And my guiding lights lost their glow, growing dimmer and dimmer over my shoulder until one day I couldn’t see anything clearly.

Suddenly it was dark…and I was lost.

And then, there was a little light around me. Always there… in the background like an ember that never quite wanted to give up, there you were…glowing and warm and ready to help. You appeared like a flash in a dream I once had. You came stumbling into this little rag tag group of renegades and you simply said “Y’all just follow me.”

Nothing scared you off. Nothing ever does. You always run towards the fire, not away from it. You didn’t fear any of it. Not the brokenness or the tattered parts. Not the fear in my eyes nor the desperation in my heart. You stood, unflapped, calm, and sure of it all…sure of us. From the very beginning, it just felt safe and warm and easy - like my old teapot bathrobe or that ragged old blanket you cover yourself with each morning while you sip on steamy coffe from one of your mugs. And you let all my stuff become a part of you - for better or worse. All my broken pieces. You never walked away…even when you were scared of it all, you held my hand and I looked into your eyes for that steadiness I needed.

And here we are…finding our way in this world, bringing all the characters along for this wild ride…mainly because they all make it better. Messier. Louder. More interesting. And more adventurous. What a ride. And this is just the beginning.

---

I am lucky for your light…the path we are forging isn’t easy. But what I realize now is that maybe I wasn’t really ever lost. Maybe all this time what I thought was no direction was just me looking for a new route – a new path to a new way of life…moving together to our very own brave, new world. One that adds and doesn’t subtract. One that celebrates and tolerates. One that forgives and moves on. One that supports, builds.

One that loves. Big love. Shameless love. Huge love.

Johnny. I am so lucky. I am so happy to have you in my life.

Let’s go plan that forever party now. It’s gonna be so fun!

Good enough.

The Daffodils are here.

Things are new. Fresh again. The spring is bringing me messages more clear than a sunny winter sky these days…sunshiney as the daffodils peeking out at me with their bright happy faces.

I am now focused on what matters most. You see, I have spent the better part of my life focused on the wrong stuff. Things like what I look like. Or how much I weigh. Or how many calories I have consumed on any given day.

Our society counts on us not feeling like we are enough as we are. Because if we were enough, what would happen? If you weighed enough and your teeth were white enough and your pants were a perfect size…what would happen?

Or rather, what COULD happen?

For starters, I think we’d be content with what is in front of us and focus in on the things that matter to us most. Things like sunrises and sunsets, flowers and new foliage blooming in our own back yards, or food and fellowship with those we love most. The little things. The beautiful things.

We would be less focused on our aging faces or those big bellies we acquired somewhere along the way. We would be content to be as we are…as things are…as life is.

I am all for improving ourselves. But I think I got lost somewhere on this path thinking the improvements had to be external. Or visible to anyone. The changes have to come more with the reality of life…the reality of how small we really are. The reality that right here, right now is good enough.

The flowers don’t feel like they aren’t doing enough. They know they are okay. They live for each moment. They go dormant when they need rest and thrive when the conditions are good enough.

Not perfect. But good enough.

And so here we all are. Standing on the precipice of change, evolution, and everything that happens and has been happening. And it’s all been good enough.

So this spring. I beg of you - of me - to let this all just be good enough…as it is.

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.

Love, Libby

I am ready for her to be free…I know she is too!

It’s 9:30 PM. I am 8 years old and not in bed yet. My mom stumbled up the stairs earlier and my father sits on the adjacent couch watching something on TV with me. We are silent.

I walk upstairs to bed. My mom isn’t there. She is sleeping on the toilet. I wake her up and put her to bed. Kiss her and tell her I love her.

I am 8.

This happened for years. And to a young girl, it felt wrong. I knew it was wrong. I knew something wasn’t right.

I navigated this for years alone in my head. Nobody talked about my mom’s problems. So i just managed on my own. A sister who didn’t live at home. Another who was too busy being a hormonal teenager to be bothered with anyone but friends. And a father who was so blinded by a peculiar balance of complete adoration and resentment to my mother that I could literally feel it in my bones.

I was alone. And scared.

That hasn’t left me. If I am being honest, I have never felt safe. I am anxious about life most days, waiting desperately for the house of cards I live in to come crashing down on my head – so fragile, a cool breeze could come by and ruin it all.

But I forget to look at the bigger picture sometimes: I am ok.

I have never been less than okay. So I need to learn to trust this life and the process.

Growing up in dysfunction makes you feel uneasy. I went through life like this. When things looked normal on the outside, I was most likely faking it. As a matter of fact, I still do. But there are times where it becomes unrealistic to continue to fake it. Because deep into my core, I am a HORRIBLE liar and an EXCELLENT oversharer.

I have let that scared little girl have the drivers seat all my life. Sure I have shimmied the wheel away from her clutches at times. I made grown up decisions without her. But she always creeps back into the drivers seat. She didn’t know how not to drive. She’d been doing it her whole life.

Letting her rest and being the grown up she always needed is my life’s work. I am forever not wanting control. Neither one of us is a very proficient driver anyhow. But every day I try to show up for me and her so we can both feel at ease in our skin.

So, little girl, go play…rest…be free. And know that you are safe within me.

Love, Libby

Thirty days.

Turning over that new leaf…

For the past few years, I have abandoned my desire to create some sort of “resolution.” I often feel too pressured by them and the fear of failing 2 weeks in always looms over me. Because if I am being honest, I have never fully followed through with any of it. It’s just human nature to slip back into habits that are familiar, comforting and easy.

What I did instead is create a 30 day habit to get into. Nothing too complicated, but something that could ass to my life rather than remind me of what I am not doing. I have added watercolor painting (which I fell in love with and know I need more of in my life) and a daily walking habit (despite having some pretty severe plantar fasciitis at the time).

While I don’t do either thing continuously through the year, I do love the habit and ritual behind them. They ground me into a routine and perhaps something a little on the healthy side - which I really love. And the practice of making you do 30 continuous days of something is a good way to start any new habit.

While I have no ideas of grandeur that any of these practices will become an actual thing I do every day, I like the reminder that it is something I can practice more of.

It took me a few days to choose something this year…but I have decided that writing is going to be my daily practice. Perhaps here. Perhaps in a journal. Perhaps on social media. But I will do something each day.

Writing helps me process what’s in my brain better than any other thing I do. It allows me to make sense of thoughts that loom over me like dark shadows in the night and helps me work out schedules and routines as I stumble through what’s next in my busy mind. It helps slow me down and dive into clear thinking. And friends - that is something I could use a lot more of these days as I navigate a new chapter this year.

I hope you find something to inspire yourself this year. It could be today or in 3 months. New Years doesn’t have to be the marker. It could be on your birthday or any random wednesday (like me!). This just feels like it fits for me - right here…right now.

In the meantime, you can catch me on one of those walks, or picking up those paintbrushes. It’s been a long time coming and I can’t wait to ground down into something comforting.

The Plug for Family photos

The sweetest family that has trusted me for years to do their photos.

I was photographing this family over the past weekend for their annual Christmas Cards. I am always so grateful when I get to re-shoot a family year after year, watching them grow and change. It’s such a treat.

Rita, the mother (and owner of Rita’s Roots) turned to me at one point and said “It’s so important for us to do this every year…”

The comment stopped me dead in my tracks. OF COURSE IT IS! How did I miss this?

You see, I have lost sight of this very sentiment. I didn’t want to overwhelm people with my “sales talk” at the holidays or pressure anyone into doing something they didn’t want. I have spent years cultivating a business based on referrals and character, not gimmicks and sales. I didn’t want to put the sales calls out there. I was caught up in the parts that reflected me for too long instead of what this meant for my clients.

As a marketing professional, this is embarrassing.

You see, these sessions were never about me. They are about you…customers and clients. They are about your family. Your product. Your life. The only part of me I need to bring is my heart…and maybe my camera. The rest is about you. It’s my JOB to show up and reflect you.

So I will continue to make sure you know I am here…snapping these photos and ready for anything. I love what I do. And chances are I am going to love you and your people, too.

So, I will tell you now - TAKE THE PICTURES. Schedule the appointment. You are fine as you are. Just bring yourselves and I will take care of the rest.

You gotta have faith

The sweetest little church in Charleston, SC. Incidentally, my parents are tucked in for eternity right here.

If I am being honest, I struggle with faith. I have been an anxious person my whole life, waiting for the worst to happen. I have struggled with knowing I will be okay, despite all the signs that point DIRECTLY to my okayness.

Trust and faith go hand in hand. You have to be sure of something. So sure of it that you don’t even need to see it. Convicted. Assured. You don’t even need evidence or hard numbers. Just a willingness to believe it’s so.

As I age, those hard facts seem a little more visible and I have lost my sense of control I want over the outcome of every detail. I learned to listen to my “gut” and just trust myself - the person who lead me to some of the best and worst decisions I have made in my life…maybe the history of time. And despite some events in my recent years shaking me to my actual core and challenging every belief I have, I still manage to find a little trust in myself not to mess everything up.

What has helped me find this calmness and trust in the past 10 years is a combination of stillness, writing, and routine. Whenever things feel off, I resort back to these small rituals that feel good to me. Those simple things that keep me simultaneously grounded and in touch with myself as well as in touch with the universe.

Now, moving forward, things feel different. As it turns out, I do have FAITH. Faith in what’s to come and what has been. Faith in myself and those around me. Faith in my mistakes and mishaps as well as my triumphs. Faith that the greater good is really going to happen. I am leaning into trusting my faith in all things to get me through.

So for now, I will embrace this faith - this blind trust in the universe and all it has to offer me. Because honestly, for the most part, faith in myself hasn’t really failed me yet.

The lies we tell.

From a recent shoot with Bros. Gerard Baking Co.

My 21 year old son is struggling a little these days. He was a graduate of the class of 2020. Yeah. That one. The one where the global epidemic crushed our society and everything changed for everyone.

If I am being honest, I think it is more complex than JUST that. It’s hard to be young and pick a track you want to follow. It’s a lot of pressure to put on an 18 year old to just pick something and follow it.

Back when I was growing up, it seemed there weren’t many options. College felt mandatory. There were less choices for us at that time. So the options felt a little more clear cut.

But we live in strange times. Opportunity seems endless. College, Junior College, Trade schools. And a select few are making money posting their lives online (OR FEET?!?! don’t get me started on this…) Or ridiculous videos. Or dances. The rules have changed. And to a 21 year old, I think it’s confusing. A few people are making easy money. And it’s VERY visible.

We have been lying to these kids…to ourselves. We tell each other things are better than they appear. And we tell each other that all it takes to make it is passion.

It got me to thinking about the phrase “Do something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” This is absolutely false. I can tell you from my own experience. When I was young, I dreamed of being a photographer. I yearned for it as much as I yearn for water and air. But I never thought I could actually succeed at it. As it turns out, it became a part of my very fulfilling career. But to tell you I don’t work a day in my life is a bald face lie.

I am filled with dread before almost every shoot. What if I fail? What if something goes wrong? How will I make it through 10 hours on my feet? I can’t do this…I suck…

The list is long.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love what I do. I LOVE it. I am passionate and proud of how much I have accomplished. I am grateful to every client that gives me a chance and every opportunity that pushes me out of my box. But to tell you it doesn’t feel like work is a lie. And an unfair one we are teaching this generation where everything appears better than it is in real life.

I still am guiding my son to follow his passion. But I am reminding him that every job - whether you love it or not - is really hard. And sometimes you have to push through the hard to get to the good parts.

So believe me when I say that I work. I work hard, long, weird hours. I endure things that were never part of this dream (financial, physical, emotional pain…you name it). But through all of this, I am certain that this life - hard or not - is the one I am supposed to be living right now.

The Wild Corners of my little Life

For the past month, I have been sequestered to my bed by the pull of a new strain of COVID. It was - in a word - BRUTAL. And it went of for weeks. Weeks of me rolling around uncomfortably in the bed, waiting for things to change. I am always waiting for things to change.

While I waited for this long and frustrating virus to move along, I wasted hours in bed scrolling the internet looking for an escape from what I felt was an actual prison of my life. I stumbled across people living these fascinatingly extreme lives - women living in camper vans alone on the road or in off-the-grid cabins at the far reaching corners of the globe. Everything looked glamorous from my sick bed as I dreamed myself 1000 times around the world each day.

I have been looking to escape this life of mine for a while. I have been waiting for change to come. I have spent countless hours turning over and over in my head how I can get away. From what, I am unsure. But cross country skiing in the arctic circle certainly looked fun from my bed…the freedom, the wildness, the untamed life. As I laid in my sick bed, I felt like I was dying daily…aging at warp speed. I craved adventure, and most significantly, I craved freedom.

Thankfully, things turned a corner a week or so ago and I began to feel much better… life became more normal. I wasn’t as distracted with escape. Freedom came in the form of health and wellness, so taking care of myself felt like a release and has become an ever increasing priority for me. Routine and regimen seemed freeing.

What has stuck with me as I healed, though, is how much I wanted to live a greater existence than I have been. I want to live larger…feel bigger…than what I have been allowing myself to experience. I want to challenge myself to doing things I feel I can’t do. I want to see things I have never seen. I want to be push through boundaries I have created for myself. In a word, I want to improve me.

I have been putting my life on hold for a long time now. Over 25 years of taking other people’s needs and desires into consideration…maybe even longer than that. So it’s time to find the joy. It’s time to force the change I want. The world doesn’t hand that to you. You have to go get it. You have to demand it.

Perhaps I can find it here, right where I am. Maybe I don’t need to live in the remote reaches of Norway or a cabin in the woods in Canada. Maybe the joy and freedom I seek is right here, in the decisions I make and the choices I pursue.

Maybe it’s just time to change my perspective a little while appreciating the wildness that is right in front of me - like beach sunsets with my best people.

21

Dear Graham.

Here we are. Another milestone. Another destination.

You are here. At twenty-one. It’s a crossroads. You are what the world considers to be an adult. Grown in body. Old enough to buy yourself a cocktail at will. What a funny age marker we have made for the world to hand over the task of adulting to people.

It’s weird to me because a part of me still sees you as this…this growing little boy, excited at just how much he grew over the summer, proud of his ability to read a Berenstein Bears book, and thrilled over his own sheer bravery at learning how to jump off a diving board and ride a bike. Except now, your accomplishments aren’t as easy to see as when you were 3, 5 or 15. These milestones are more subtle. They feel more spiritual than physical, more vague than tangible.

But I see it every day - these changes are still happening in you. Although now, it’s on a different level. One that most people can’t see. You are growing more now than ever before. Only those that truly see you will know these changes.

I hope you continue to walk this path. It’s harder than the one you have been on. You are forging your own way through it all now in territory I am only vaguely familiar with. You see, this is YOUR path. Your direction. You are in the driver’s seat now. And you have been for a while. All I can do from here is guide you in the way I know…but you see, I am not the expert of you. YOU are the expert of you!

Be patient with yourself. The road isn’t always clear. Be kind to you. Treat yourself like this little boy in the photo. How would you guide him? Hold him? How would you carry him so he is safe? How would you tackle the parts you don’t know anything about? Treat him like those who love you treat him. Tenderly. Kindly. Patiently.

I don’t have a literal gift for you today. Nothing to unwrap. Nothing to throw away in a few years after it’s broken, worn or outdated. But I have an offering for you. Today, I offer you the keys to your life. You are free to be you.

Just remember this…I will ALWAYS be here. I will always have something for you. I offer you a port in a storm, a soft place to land, and forever a warm meal when you need it.

And, without question, I offer you all my love.

Love forever.

Mom.