Balance

Things haven’t been great lately.

I mean…life is okay. But, truth be told, a lot of stuff has been coming my way this year that is making me have to reassess the things that are important.

When this happens, I have a set of things I do. Talk to a friend. Write. Take care of my body with movement and healthy food. Sleep. Meditate. Take a nice, long, lingering bath or shower. See the ocean or stand in the middle of a forest. It all became a laundry list of things to do to care of myself in the most essential of ways.

When I started out on this regimen, I felt guilty when I missed something. “Shoot - I forgot to write today.” “I missed working out.” Or, even worse, “That workout wasn’t good enough.”

record scratch

Where on earth does THAT come from. The very thing I am doing to help myself is the VERY THING that causes me to feel worse about myself.

That didn’t feel good. Time to flip that script in my little pea brain.

In the past, I would be the perfectionist and ask myself, “why even bother?” I would throw in the towel and just continue being unhappy because if I can’t do all of it, why bother even doing a part of it. But after recognizing this behavior and awful script running through my perfectionist brain like a Monday morning train schedule in New York City, I decided to loosen the reigns on the regiment of it all. Because isn’t trying part of the game of succeeding?

So, these days I just use the list as a set of options…suggestions of how to get towards my better. Not perfect. Just better. The steps are not specific instructions, but merely suggestions on what to do or where to start.

Today, I will show up for myself in a few ways. I’ll write a little. I’ll move my body. And I’ll go breathe in some ocean air. If a hamburger gets in to my body, I won’t beat myself up about it. Because life is a constant balance of what feels good in the moment and what feels good in the long term.

And what makes me a better human in the long run is balance.

Reconnecting

Photo taken at a meal during a recent yoga retreat I photographed for Beth Cosi at The Horse Shoe Farm

It’s been a strange year.

It’s been a year of isolation and of disconnection. It’s been a year of reconnection with ourselves and our families. And sorting through the muck and mire of life until we what is most important to us. For me, that has meant a lot of things.

Let me start by saying that the general timing of my life paired with the aftermath of a major pandemic has thrown us straight into transition mode around here. Plans are being formed for the next chapter for all of us that will both carry us away and bring us closer together in some respects. Our lives are so far flung that we are reaching out - both unconsciously and very consciously. We are trying to find our way back to each other in all the ways. We are trying desperately to hang on to each other. To connect.

When life starts pulling at you (money, sickness, kids, life, general stuff), suddenly you can see the holes you managed to sloppily repair in the first place. They are always the first to give way. So, as life pulled at those strings (and as it always will), I quickly saw the holes coming back open like a sweater that easily unravels at the pull of a dangling piece of yarn.

But I have made these repairs so often now that I know how to jump into action. For me, it’s self care: Meditation, mindfulness and movement. That’s all I need to check in and make sure I am okay, regroup and put myself on track.

Or so I thought.

This past weekend, I went to a yoga retreat nestled in the crook of the North Carolina mountains under the safe and regal watch of Grandfather mountain. We had a healthy dose of all the things you need to get on track. Yoga. Meditation. Amazing food. But I felt like there was more there. More that I had missed. It was there that I realized what I have been missing this year - connection and conversation. I needed these things like I needed water. I needed to connect with humans and again - both physically and emotionally. I needed to walk on the earth in my bare feet and feel the grass against my back. I wanted see myself reflected back in other humans, in nature, in the mirror I have so desperately hated to gaze into all these years. I wanted to see both my good and my not-so-good parts.

This year has made me see that the thing I have been missing in this puzzle has been connection. It’s been a crucial piece missing for so many of us, too. Connecting to ourselves and others. Family. Friends. Strangers! I need connection like air. I need to connect over food and music and everything we have in common - not what we DON’T have in common (I’m looking at you politics!)

So each day now as I face a lot of transition and the turmoil of life, I try hard to remember to do the important stuff. I take care of me first. But I also pick up the phone and call someone. I hug my family. I walk in the grass and sit in the warm sunshine. I smile at people in the car next to me. I pet my dogs. And know that these repairs might just be a little more substantial this time.

Breathe.

Working as a full time photographer is not for the faint of heart. With long (and very odd) hours of shooting and hauling gear around paired with even longer hours of sitting at a desk editing photos, it can be taxing on your body. Big meetings with board members, cancelled conference calls, and some seriously cut throat competition in the world can only add to the stress of an already taxing career.  On top of this, there is gear to keep up with, technology to sort through, and a craft that requires a lot of your heart and soul and energy.

In order to show up for a demanding career (and let's face it...life as a full-time, single parent), I have learned over the years that I have to show up for myself first.

Let me be clear for a moment.

I have lived under the notion for years that the only way for me to be a successful photographer or designer (or anything, really) was for me to work so hard at it that I had no energy left for anything at the end of the day. I was collapse-into-bed-tired all the time. And for a long time, that worked...to a degree. For 15 years of a career on my own, I hustled and hid behind a shroud of what I like to call "bizzyness." During that time, I had a toddler to manage by myself, 2 dying parents to tend, and a sister who passed away somewhat unexpectedly. Needless to say, I crashed.

A few years after my sister died, I bottomed out. Around the time of her death, I hit an all time low. It crept in slowly at first, like a rising tide. And then suddenly and swiftly, I was pulled under. I was depressed, anxious, sad and suddenly - alone. And I didn't know how to fix it this time. I was left with no energy to face the dance of each day, let alone a career I had worked my ass off to establish.

My body, mind, and soul was forcing me into a stillness I hadn't known before. I had no energy for anything. So I listened by being still and listening. And in that space, all I kept hearing was "This plane is going down. Put your oxygen mask on first, Libby."

The interesting part is that the oxygen mask looks different for all of us. It's disguised a little. My mask won't fit you. It only fits me. It fits me in the shape of getting right with my body, mind and soul. It fits me by shedding layers that don't belong to me...they belong to someone else.

Truth be told, it simply boils down to the essential practice of self care, doesn't it? Practice....because it takes a lot of repetition before you actually see results. It's like weight loss and skin care and anything you do to shed the layers or transform yourself. It's a practice. A routine. And it's life saving.

So if you are bizzy, or busy, or anxious, or depressed, if you are looking for an answer or a way out of your current situation, or if you just need to regroup...Stop. Pause. And put your mask on first. Because truthfully, the main thing you need to do is to slowly catch your breath and pull that oxygen mask over your own face first... and breathe.

Just breathe.

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If you need help, someone to talk to, or just have questions about what all this looks like for me, please feel free to reach out. I am not going to sell you a product or sign you up for anything. I am just here to share my story and journey with anyone who needs help.

Strength

From my shoot with the AMAZINGLY STRONG Graham Ervin.

Sometimes being strong isn't always about being tough. It's about being flexible and knowing when to bend and when to let go. Sometimes the strength is simply in knowing what you need. 

Bendy Boozy

Bendy Brewski (or Boozy) at High Wire Distilling Co.

Last weekend, I punished/treated myself to a little yoga with my good friend Beth here. Beth runs an amazing business teaching yoga at breweries and distilleries around the area and throughout the Southeast. Her company - called Bendy Brewski Yoga - teaches yoga to all levels and follows it up with a drink. If you didn't know already, these are 2 of my very most favorite things in the world! So someone combining them just made sense....at least in my little world. 

On the morning I took this photo, she asked me to bring my camera to grab a few shot of the people and the class. In turn, because I am selfish and loveLOVEL-O-V-E doing portraits of people doing what they do, I asked her to pose for a photo for me! And thankfully she cooperated graciously and gracefully! I just love this girl! She is honestly one of the best people I know.

If you are curious or are interested in starting classes, Beth's classes are the place to begin. If you are a seasoned pro, they are still the place to be. Boy or girl. Short or tall. Generous or slim. She really does a great job with all levels and types.  So come out and visit me at one of her classes.