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.

Spring Fling

I have spent time in love with something that doesn’t love me back quite the way I need to be loved. This city, with it’s fickle heart, makes me feel like a scorned lover at times. But it’s during the spring season that I can look away from the push and pull of this sordid relationship. Those cotton candy sunsets, the flowers bursting with color in backyards - dropping petals like confetti at a party. The seductively warm sunshine and cool, soft air like sheets dried in a breeze that wrap around my skin. It’s all enough to make me fall in love again, only to be scorned by the scorch of prickly summer heat lurking around a corner.

This year feels different. The rose-colored light looks warmer than ever before. More welcoming. It’s as if we are trying to fall back in love with each other, little by little. One sunset, one drive over the connector, one pile of petals at my feet at a time.

Rejects

I just found this photo in a folder labeled “REJECTS.” There is nothing inherently wrong with the photo. It’s clear, balanced, and in focus. The content is pretty and good. Maybe a little color balance would be good, but all in all a good photo.

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly what the client was looking for. Maybe there was a better choice in this particular set. It feels like a good photograph in general. But why was it labeled a “REJECT?”

It got me to thinking…do we do this to ourselves? Why are we so quick to dismiss something because it’s not perfect? So many photos don’t see the light of day because they weren’t JUST RIGHT. But this photo seemed pretty good.

Most days my hair looks fine - not great. My face good enough - not perfect. But that’s life. And what actually is perfect? What is great? Perfection, greatness….it’s all in the eyes of the beholder.

So today, I give myself permission to be okay…fine…good enough. And I promise to stop putting myself in the REJECT pile. Because beauty is always seen differently by each one of us.

Blog love

I love food photography almost as much as I love cooking. And I worked tirelessly and forever to develop my craft. The way I did it was to create a food blog, Plate South, where I test recipes and develop new ways of eating classic comforting foods found as close to home as I can get them. That means working with farmers, and even getting some consulting done on my very own little back garden.

This photo was taken in my development on Sausage + Kale soup - a hearty and comforting winter meal for sure. Served up with some crusty bread and a glass of red wine makes for the coziest winter night.

Now all you need is a little Netflix binge and you are ready to go.

Go check out my blog if you love all things food and restaurants in the south!

Libby

Current work

I don’t share tons of current work. It’s my feeling that if you want to see what I am up to, you will just follow along on social media or just look at my portfolio. I am not great at the sharing/shameless self promotion part.

But I have been doing some more recent commercial food photography work that has been pretty fun. This client hired me initially because they really wanted their food accurately represented by not using stock photos for their extremely delicious bistro located inside of a gas station.

They could have easily used stock and not bothered to call me. They could have not cared about standing out. But their work is impressive and they care about every detail of their business. And it shows in everything we’ve done. Its been a pleasure shooting with them.

This shot was born after multiple shoots. We weren’t quite getting the shot…not by the fault of anyone. Just wasn’t emerging quite how they were hoping for. We finally landed here…on one of my favorite food styling photos of all time.

Fresh foods. Fun shot. And literally done on a floor. It doesn’t have to be hard. It just has to be collaborative and creative.

What fun things are you doing with your work?

Flotsam and Jetsam

This is my favorite spot on my favorite beach. 8W on Folly Beach has been a constant in my life for the past 15 years. Summer sunbathing. Evening picnics. Winter walks. They all began here. Many personal photos I have taken have been snapped of this very spot - building sand castles, suntanned faces, sandy toes, and the waves just washing over our feet, begging me to hear their calming call and secrets to life. I saw my mom step on the beach for her last time here. I saw my son ride his first wave here. I have fallen in love here. I have cried here.

Recently, I sat here waiting for some clients for a shoot. I have lived in Charleston off and on for the better part of my life. Truth be told, I have never felt fully at home in this city. But this spot on this beach…this is my sanctuary. This is the place I feel at home…connected. Connected to my life, and my memories. Connected to my past and my present. Connected to my future.

But as I sat here the other day, a wave of emotion took over. You see, my future looks a little muddy right now. Unclear. I am confused about what’s to come. The push and pull of the tide seems to understand this rhythm and phenomenon, yet I don’t. Maybe I never will. The clarity of my path seems as unclear as the murky, muddy sea floor - unsettled and topsy turvy, full of sharp flotsam and jetsam that I find myself trying to navigate.

And yet, so many things seem clear to me like that horizon you can focus on - even when the sea is stormy and heavy with waves. My horizon is there… I have amazing love. I have a great career that I have built on my own. I have friends and a roof over my head. I have more than I ever considered having despite the crooked path I have taken. Despite this broken boat I keep charting this course with.

So, I guess for now, I will keep coming back here while I can to wrestle with the questions in my heart. I will watch the ease of the push and pull of the ocean – the way it calmly and gently floats to the shore. And I will ask it softly to help me with the answers while I watch all it’s treasured answers wash up gently on the seashore. Patiently, calmly, quietly. Watch for the answers to surface like treasured sand dollars resting quietly on the sand.

Mindberries

Recently I was on a shoot with a small family. The little boys were collecting items along the way and putting them in their pockets - treasures only little boys seem to value. We came across a bush full of wild berries and I said “you know not to eat those, right?” They looked at me like I was telling them something they were well aware of and said “uhhhh…of course.”

But it made me think…how do we know things are bad for us? Is it because it’s been drilled into us? In the case of poison berries, this is most likely the case. But what about those invisible things? The toxic thoughts? The self destructive patterns? How do you stop those things from seeping into your brain and poisoning you little by little?

I guess the answer is that you have to know how to identify them first. Sometimes we don’t know something is toxic until we feel it’s adverse effects. And even then, it’s often we need to be told. Those thoughts of unworthiness that creep in become such a part of us that after time, they almost feel comfortable. You don’t know what to do without them.

But when you are gently reminded, “Hey…it’s okay…you can put that thought down here. It’s not doing you any good anymore,” it helps bring awareness to the bad things. It’s nice to have help here, but sometimes you have to do the hard work on your own, too.

Distance helps too. Putting the thoughts that don’t serve you down, walking away from toxic energy and people, and even just ignoring it all can help. It’s hard to do because they look so enticing. But resisting temptations - no matter how bad they are for us - is always where the hard work is, right?

It’s taken me 50 years to identify some of those poison mindberries…the ones that look tempting to eat but are so bad for you. “I should look different…I’m in the way…I’m too much…I’m not enough…” The list goes on. Sometimes I see them on the path, juicy and enticing in their varied colors. Often I am tempted to eat them…like a good snack when I need it most . All it takes is a gentle reminder that they are not serving me in any way…and that reminder can come from me or someone I trust.

It’s only then that I can keep walking along that beautiful path and admire the rest of the things life has in store and leave those berries on the bush that they belong on.

Sunrise, Sunset.

I feel the sun setting on this phase of my life recently.

I have felt it before. But maybe at the time it felt more like a storm passing through - grey clouds overhead, darkness creeping in. I have also felt it in ways that felt bright and new.

That’s what I feel this time. It feels more colorful…golden…hopeful.

I am not great with change (Is anyone, really?). I fight against it’s current even when it’s the best of circumstances. But right now, I am sort of letting this tide take me where it needs to because at the end, all I can see ahead are calm waters and golden rays.

Is it rose colored glasses? Maybe. Is it just that I am finally making changes on my terms? Most likely. Am I still fearful? Not really. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Most of all, I can’t wait to see the sun rise on the other side.

Inside Out

How do you see yourself?

Do you see what you truly are…not just physically, but the whole you? Do you see the parts of you on the inside and on the outside.

When I photograph people, sometimes they tell me “can you make me…?” which is always followed by something we are insecure about…”Taller.” “Thinner.” “Less bald.” “Bigger boobs.” “Cover my butt.” “Only from the waist up please.” “I hate my arms.”

But wouldn’t it be better if we looked at someone and said “can you capture who I am on the inside. Not just on the outside. I want the world to see all of me…not just what I look like.” Show our insides on our outsides. Show us inside out. Not just outside out.

I struggle to be in front of the camera for all the reasons I am stating here. I am insecure about how I look sometimes. But I never look at other people this way. I only see who they are in a photograph. I try to approach my photography this way…from my heart. I do it so I can see all of the subject. Not just what someone looks like on the outside, but who they really are…their character and their humanity. Their vulnerability and their strength.

So next time you get your picture taken, ask that photographer to take your photo inside-out and see what they say. You might be surprised at the result…

Enough

How do you see abundance in your life?

I am always waiting to see the fruits of my labor come to me in ways I am not expecting. Maybe I get an unexpected gift card or someone picks up a coffee for me. Maybe I find a homemade loaf of bread on my doorstep from a friend. Or maybe I just get the hug I was hoping for from my son after a bad day.

The lesson I had to wrap my head around is that the universe doesn’t always deliver in ways we expect. And when it does show up (hello, perfect apples on a tree), you need to be paying attention.

For years I lived my life wondering why I was always left behind - both financially and personally. I grew weary and frustrated feeling the weight of life piling on me. Everything felt hard. I was taking care of my parents, my child and even friends. Where was my break?

But the rewards were there every day. I just chose not to see them as such. While I was taking care of my sick and aging parents, I had the opportunity to go for walks to the beach with my son every day. While I lived with my sisiter and her family, I had the company, companionship, and family I so desperately had been looking for. And while I struggled to make ends meet, I always had generous friends to help fix my house or deliver me extra produce that they weren’t using.

While these seem insignificant - they weren’t. They were crucial to the well being of my life. And once I started paying attention to the little things, the big things came my way more readily. Or maybe my desire for the big things wasn’t so important anymore.

In times of stress (I’m looking at you 2020), it’s good to practice gratitude. It’s hard. But the rewards that you get from honor the universe with gratitude are 10 fold. A little acknowledgement goes a long way.

My industry has taken a hit this year. A big one. And I am always grateful for what I do have right now - work and otherwise. It seems like somewhere in the middle of all of this, I have gotten satisfied with life as it is instead of fighting what it isn’t or what I am not.

Right now, I am happy in my life…happy in my skin. I feel abundant. I have more love around me than I know what to do with sometimes. And my house is full of food, has running water and appliances that work (thank you AC gods!)

I am so joyful these days. I have what I need…and for once - finally - that is enough.

50 Life Lessons

I turned 50 this week. Wow! What?!? I can’t believe this happened. I do NOT FEEL 50…until I do. Then I feel all of 50.

When I turned 40, I wrote out 40 things I have learned. So to extend the tradition, I thought I would revised it and post another list. This time, with 50 lessons. So here goes…

1. Always wear clean underwear. Or none at all. It doesn’t matter.

2. Take care of your teeth.

3. Take care of your health.

4. Take care of yourself. Hair. Eyes. Skin. Mental health. It’s all important.

5. Eat the rainbow. Not skittles. Fruit. Vegetables. Clean food.

6. Don’t forget to drink water.

7. Move. Everyday if you can.

8. You don’t have to explain your choices to anyone. Only you have to answer to the decisions you make.

9. Find some grace. For yourself. For others. It will serve you well.

10. Budget for things. I wish I could say I have mastered this, but I am learning.

11. Expect the unexpected. In all areas of life. Plot twists will happen often.

12. Do not forget how to have fun.

13. Know when to be serious.

14. Learn how to read the room.

15. Find the sunshine as often as you can.

16. Say yes more often.

17. Know when to say NO.

18. When you make a commitment to something or someone, follow through.

19. Be honest. Even when it hurts.

20. Learn how to like yourself. This is hard for most of us…

21. Don’t give up on love. It’s there. You just have to find it. It shows up when you are least expecting it. This is more true than I could ever tell you.

22. Be careful what you wish for.

23. Listen to your gut. Or your heart. Or whatever that niggling little voice is inside you. It know’s things.

24. Indulge a little. It’s okay.

25. Don’t discount the things you experience at a young age. You will go back to those little life experiences time and time again. They are the foundation of life.

26. Remember this when you are raising children. They take in more than you know.

27. Opportunity doesn’t always come in the shape you want it to. Sometimes it wears a serious disguise.

28. Floss your teeth.

29. Find a little balance.

30. Stop worrying. HARD STOP. Ninety Nine percent of the things you worry about are actually NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN.

31. Live with the stuff you love. Not the stuff people tell you to love. If you love comfy furnutre and barcaloungers, then get yourself a livingroom full of them. It’s your house and life. LIVE IT YOUR WAY!

32. Be wary of fads.

33. Be wary of people who tell you how you should think.

34. Do the research.

35. Love wholeheartedly and unabashedly. Stop listening to people telling you that you shouldn’t.

36. Surround yourself with people you want to be like. Remove the relationships that aren’t serving you. Edit your life often.

37. Give people a second chance. Maybe not a third. Or fourth.

38. Learn how to communicate well. How to talk. And, more importantly, how to LISTEN.

39. Don’t trust people who say they don’t like cats. Or dogs. They can prefer one to another. They can get what they like. But there is something seriously strange about a human who doesn’t like a specific kind of animal.

40. Try. Fail. Try again. Fail again. Keep trying until you figure it out.

41. There usually isn’t just one way to get somewhere. Stop taking the main roads.

42. Do your best. Every day. Wake up and commit that you will try harder. It’s okay if you don’t succeed.

43. There is a lot of life to be had offline. A lot of experience is out there.

44. We live in a great country. Voting is important. People have fought for this right. As in LOST THEIR LOVES FOR THIS. It is your duty to do this.

45. Children are harbingers of hope and joy and fear. Listen deeply to them.

46. Be patient. Be kind. Hold space for grace for yourself and others.

47. Connect with something bigger that yourself.

48. Take time to meditate. Or pray. Or breathe. It will do you a world of good.

49. Learn how to forgive.

50. Celebrate yourself. Every chance you get. All the things you’ve done. Because trust me…it’s more than you know.

Eighteen

Dear Graham.

You turned eighteen this week. For days, I have been trying to find the words to express my feelings. But for the first time, I am at a loss. I feel like a ship at sea…no oars, no land in sight. I feel like someone took me on a wild ride and then slammed on the brakes. It’s disorienting and overwhelming all at the same time.

People always talk about how fast it goes. They talk about how the days are long, but the years are short. And you know what? It’s true. It went at lightening speed. It feels like you were only just my little baby I rocked to sleep in the stillness of the night while the rest of the world gently slumbered around us. Nothing else mattered in the darkness of those long nights. Just you.

And then, within months, life started gaining momentum like a high-speed train through the countryside. You were just my little tot, toddling around watching Elmo and Bear in the Big Blue House, excited to eat your little Cheerio snacks. Then you were headed to preschool…to middle school…to high school…to karate…to rugby games. Where did it all go? I feel stunned.

But this isn’t about me, is it? It’s about you. It’s about the person you have become…the person you are becoming. It’s about how much you have changed the world. You have already changed my world. And for that, I am forever grateful.

You are a man now…your own person. You are capable of voting and working and driving a car on your own with no curfews or restrictions. You are on the precipice of adulthood, making your own decisions about what you eat each day and where you spend your time. It’s no longer up to me to tell you what friends to play with or what to have for breakfast or what new shoes to wear…not that I ever really could before. You’ve always had your own ideas. Sometimes that was hard. But hindsight makes you see everything more clearly. It has all been for the greater good.

Graham, if I can give you one piece of advice for this next phase of your life, it’s this: Be. You.

Be unapologetically you. Don’t edit yourself for the benefit of the world. Because frankly, you need no editing. You are an incredible, kind, aware, empathetic human - beautiful. This incredible nature is in your bones…in your heart…in your soul. It’s every piece of who you are, every piece of who I see. You are so deeply beautiful, some people may never see it. But it’s as visible to me as your sunkissed blonde hair and sea green eyes.

Most people spend a lifetime trying to get to where you already are. You already have it. You are there. You were born with it. And it has stayed with you these 18 years. Don’t put this part down. Let the world rise up to meet you right now.

Our world isn’t always made for kindness and empathy. It’s not made for softness. But, my sweet soul, it needs it. This world needs you to stay the course of the person I see rising up before my very eyes. We need men that care, men that are kind, and men that have hearts of gold - both strong and soft… a beacon of hope, glimmering in the dust and darkness of the world. Be that.

Be. You.

Because being you is the thing that is going to help bring about change in this world. It’s already changed mine.

Love,

Momma

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.

Robbed.

This was not the senior post I wanted to do…

These seniors have been robbed of memories and experiences they will never get back. No more lunch room laughs. No more proms. No graduation ceremony. It's gone...with a virus that has changed our lives forever.

Movies have been made about what it's like to be a senior in high school....TV shows written.... Books penned. We all remember these days. I can still recall what it was like to graduate that day in the hot, Charleston May sun - white dress and flowers laid across my lap, a small audience of people fanning themselves with programs.

This boy has spent so much time working so hard on so many things these past 4 years. He has transformed himself - mind and body. He took his grades from okay to straight As over the course of a month and never looked back. He became a shy rugby player to a fit and stong captain of his team. He became confident and capable and trustworthy of friends, teachers, and adults with parents of his friends calling on him in confidence more than once to help find answers. He became a leader – someone to rely on, strong and kind, empathetic and level-headed. A rare combination in a teenage boy.

I am so sad for my child. While I join you in your grief that school is done for the year here, it is not for the same reasons of despising homeschooling or feeling trapped in my home with kids. Instead, I will be mourning the loss of innocence and experience that comes with these final weeks of school for my boy...no graduation, no prom, no final match. I will hurt along side him over the friends and teachers he will never get to high five in the halls again, relationships that disappear to circumstance rather than choice. And I will mourn the loss of seeing him lead his rugby team this season on the pitch, something he worked so hard for that was taken away far too soon.

There’s more to his story of loss and strength than what I have written here. He has seen things that have changed him completely and done things adults I know haven’t even faced. He is wise beyond his years and experienced beyond fair measure for a child this age.

I know he will go on to do great things. He already has and it's inside of him. But to be honest, I am tired of his innocence being taken away over and over again too early. I am tired of his story having to accommodate the world rather that to world accommodating his kind, huge heart, and strong, loving soul.

To all the seniors, you are loved and we are all so proud. I am sorry this is your story.

Now let's all go out and change the ending to this chapter.

A Purposeful Life

I took this photo about a year ago on a clear and crisp May evening at Folly Beach. It was one of those days that you realize the promise of summer is coming, gently at first…and then, without warning, it’s in like a lion.

Like many of us are now realizing, I took this and many other of my days for granted. I took my proximity to the beach for granted. I could, after all, go anytime I wanted to. My freedom to move around this planet on a whim was something I thought rarely about, if ever at all. What a luxury.

But now, I sit in my quarantined life on this gorgeous April day. The sun is shining and temperatures are climbing to the mid 80s this afternoon, creeping slowly into a reminder that summer is around the corner. Today is a perfect day to sit with my toes in the sand and breath in the fresh sea air. It’s just the kind of day I would be planning a picnic with friends, walking down the beach holding hands with my guy, or even heading there alone to be in stillness.

I miss the sea. I never thought about not having access to it much before. But I miss it. I want to breathe in the fresh, cottony air in my lungs and feel it wrap around my skin like cool summer sheets. I want to be itchy with salt and sand and sunburn on my shoulders. I want to hear the gulls squawk around me as they scavenge for the little scraps of food and crumbs we drop.

If there is anything this time has taught me, it’s that I want to live simply again, but with purpose. I want to live in the moments I took for granted with the people I assumed would always be there. I want to remember what actually matters. Freedom. Joy. Relationships. And good health.

Most of all, I just want my life to be purposeful - lived with love and simple pleasures.

Falling to pieces

Yesterday, I was falling to pieces.

Literally couldn’t pick myself up off the ground and motivate to do anything positive whatsoever in the face of this virus that has made the world come to a screeching halt on every conceivable level. Every moment was spent ladled in doubt, depression and doom. “What ifs…” were plaguing me with paralyzing fear on a level that I haven’t experienced in quite a while.

As I sat frozen and helpless in the dining room, these flowers I gathered last week caught my eye. For they, too, were falling to pieces.

I wondered if it hurt them to fall apart like that. I wondered if they felt it in their core like I did yesterday. I also wondered if they felt a bit of levity after their release and that things were calmer, lighter, easier.

I slowly started coming apart at the seams then. And I allowed myself it to happen. Everything was hard. I sat in my room, tears trailing down my cheeks in the most horrifically familiar pattern. I have been here before in this virtual prison, mired in the depths of despair and doom. It feels like what I imagine it is to be buried alive. Suffocating. Heavy. Deep and thick like the pluff mud at the end of my street. I couldn’t bear to let anyone see me that afraid and vulnerable. So I stayed there motionless, curled in a ball in my room, crying into the pillows, wondering how I would make it out of yet another hole of despair on my own again.

Then came the words everyone needs when they are grieving: “But you don’t have to…that’s what this is….that’s what we are to each other…I am here if you need me.”

Those words were like water to my weary soul. Gentle and cool. Soft. Kind.

That’s what we need right now. Gentleness. Kindness. Love.

---

I feel okay today. But I have been busy fixing things and baking more things (so much baking). I know enough about myself to know that this is a wave – just like yesterday was a wave and just like tomorrow will bring even MORE adventures. I am glad I have so many people to help cushion this blow right now and for that, I am humbly grateful.

For now, I will try to stay present and believe what is true RIGHT NOW. Right now, I have food to eat and a roof over my head. Right now is all we have. And right now is all I am focused on…no matter what that looks like.

This, too, shall pass.

This is what spring is supposed to feel like. Hopeful. Light. Bright. Colorful. And most of all, optimistic.

Instead, here we are, smack dab in the middle of a global crisis. GLOBAL. This isn’t just happening in our little worlds. It’s affecting everyone…everywhere. Lives are transforming daily because of this horrific situation.

It’s hard to find hope in this space we have landed in. It’s hard to look up and say - we’ve got this… Especially when our most basic of needs are being threatened on a massive level (seriously though, what’s with all the toilet paper hoarding?!?!). None of this is controllable. The only thing we can do to control it is to stay home, stay put, and stop the spread of the virus.

So I’ve been trying to do survive right now one day at a time. “What is true today? In this hour? In this moment?” These are questions I ask myself hourly right now. “What is real and honest? And what can I actually DO?”

Sometimes it’s as simple as taking a deep breath. Other moments I am talking myself off a ledge of despair because this all seems so big and overwhelming in so many ways. Honestly, I am just trying to be present and calm. I stay busy. I feed the people I love. I work hard at coming up with what’s next for work and life. I dream a little. And I make it through another day.

We all process stuff so differently. And this pandemic certainly has made me aware of that personally and with those that I love the most. I have watched my normally effervescent, joyful child become depressed as he is robbed of his senior year in high school. No prom. No final rugby games. No senior skip day. Nothing but the trauma of something he doesn’t understand presented with no options or end in sight. All the parts you look forward to all of high school - and dare I say most of his life - are completely gone for him. And that’s only a small consequence to the greater picture we are all dealing with right now like loss of jobs, loss of income, and, in some cases, loss of lives so precious to us.

All I can do is sit and be present with what is. I am not trying to negotiate my way out of it, but lean in to the fact that this is where I am. This is where we are. This is what is. And that this, too, shall pass.

Sending love and light to all that need it.

The Sweet Stuff

I am digging into the sweet stuff…searching for the delicious parts right now. Those bitter parts, the salty bites, the ones that are too hot or too cold or not quite right will all come soon enough. But while I am here in the middle of the sweet spot, I will celebrate and sink in.

Because life is too delicious to pass this part by.

Letting joy take the wheel

Recently I was asked about why I haven’t been writing as much lately.

I wish I had a good answer for that. But I don’t. My heart has been a little lighter these days. And writing for me is therapeutic. It has served for these recent years as a way out of the cave of despair. So these days, I have been a little less inspired - so to speak. While I wait for inspiration, my writing is taking on a new voice…one that is a little brighter and lighter.

Oddly, this feels cumbersome and uncomfortable, like an ill fitting pair of underwear you constantly need to adjust. I almost feel like I need to apologize for it.

What.In.The.World??? Where did THAT notion come from?

Where does this notion of joy equate with something I need to make amends for right now? Do we get that message from our parents at a young age? How do we internalize not being worthy of JOY?

I am not sure how to steer the car with confidence riding shotgun instead of that smug bitch, fear, sitting in the front seat controlling and questioning my every move. I am used to the commands she makes and insecurities she dishes out… always making me apologize for myself and suggesting that in some ways, I have gotten what I deserved.

A little joy is a terrifying thing for me. I sit waiting and wondering when it will all come crashing down again. Sitting with joy often makes me feel like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. She makes me uncomfortable in her kindness.

So while I wait, and wonder, (and perhaps schedule an appointment with my therapist), I will just keep working on how to lose those feelings of Doubt and Fear along this long stretch of highway. I will keep being myself…writing and taking photos along the way. Holding hands and settling in to my new relationship with Joy whenever I can.

While I am here, I will be certain to drive happily by those hitchhikers, Fear and Uncertainty, on the side of the road…not a thought of stopping at the mere sight of them. I’ll have no guilt for speeding by this time. They’ve been in this car on this very stretch of road with me before and honestly, they are horrible passengers.

I am ready

A quick story.

On a visit to the upstate, we were coming back from a quick grocery store trip and I suddenly yelled to my sweet, obliging driver “PULL OVER!”

“Really?”

“Yes. I want to take a picture.”

This is a repeated story in my life. Only, up until a few months ago, I didn’t really do it. I just wanted to.

I have spent most of my life trying to live small. I was afraid - afraid of inconveniencing everyone around me, afraid of being too high maintenance, afraid of having needs and wants.

I am not sure what to attribute to this newfound confidence and voice. Is it a new relationship that has me seeing things differently - including myself (or rather, especially myself)? Is it my ripening age? Or is it that I have finally had it with putting my life on hold? Whatever the reasons, I am happy to speak my needs and shout out for the opportunities that have so often passed me by fields on a country backroad.

So many things whiz by you when you don’t speak up. Jobs. Love. Even simple photos of old, decaying barns that perhaps I just want. Living small is just not worth it. I have paused my life for so many people and I am ready, finally, to live for myself.

I am ready…finally.