Learning to float.

Years ago, I went on a tubing expedition with a casual group of friends like one does in their 20s. As we headed down the river, little groups slowly broke off - some going faster than others, while others lingered behind near the coveted beer float.

The group I was in was in the front - we called ourselves the “lovely ladies.” We had hit some rapids on the way down and gained momentum, breaking us off from the beer group and the boy I was woo-ing.

Included in our group of “lovely ladies” was me, an exotic sounding German woman I had never met, and a friend of mine that looked like the spitting image of Cameron Diaz - tall, blonde, lean, stunning. She was gorgeous and she leaned into the safety of that. I can hardly blame her.

As the three of us floated aimlessly down the wide river, giggling and gossiping and having a fun little Saturday, I noticed something…my gorgeous friend seemed to just glide around obstacles, long legs extended, peaceful and serene. I, on the other hand, kept getting caught. Stuck. Stopped by the river’s obstacles. I caught myself on rocks and branches. I rammed head first into rapids that flipped me over, making me look like a bedraggled prom queen the night after her big debut. Meanwhile, “Miss Diaz” kept those long bronze legs in the air and made it down rapids and around boulders effortlessly.

I determined at that moment that this was a metaphor for life.

And in truth, this has been my life. I have watched a few people glide by me - even with a headstart from my parents - no college debt and a little help when I needed it. It’s not because I’m wasn’t working hard or giving it my all - it’s just that my balance was off. Or sometimes I drifted into the wrong current. Or maybe I didn’t believe I could do it all on my own. After all, when had that happened before?

I have believed as long as I can remember that I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough or worthy enough. It’s taken me years to unravel this story, which still gets knotted up in my brain sometimes. And it’s gotten me tripped up and stuck for years. The only way I can stop believing it is to keep pushing through those obstacles and keep showing myself how strong I really am. Get up. Dust myself off. And just keep going.

Eventually I made it to the end of our float, a little wet and ready for a snack. I made it before some of the beer floaters. I made it right behind those easy long legs. But I made it.

______

It’s been years since this day and I think about it today like it just happened last week. I have no idea where the “lovely ladies” have landed now or if their lives have been easy, effortless or struggle free. I have no idea what happened to the boy I was chasing back then who crushed my ego like so many before him…he ended up bringing someone to the next party that looked like a call girl.

I digress.

What I do know is that I am still standing here…stronger and more resilient than someone who has glided through life effortlessly. Because I know how to get through the rapids. I have had some practice.

Life is full of rapids….full of obstacles. Learn to navigate them early and with grace for yourself. Because the quicker you navigate that, the easier the big boulders down the river will be to get around.

Oh…and make sure you learn how to swim, too. That’ll come in handy.

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.

Summer love.

I love summer.

Wait. Maybe I need to refine that statement. I love summer FOOD!

I love the freshness, the immediacy of summer. The bright foods grown in your own backyard. The seafood caught and eaten the same day. The smokiness of the grill. The spiciness of food. Different temperatures and textures. And lucky for me, the real magic happens at the crossroads of summer food and summer food photoshoots like this one. It feels inspirational and gorgeous.

But, it’s not ACTUALLY REAL. This is staged - perfection in an imperfect world. I look at this photo and remember what happened that day or the conversations of lives crumbling at our foundation, I can’t help but realize we are always telling a story out here. The behind the scenes isn’t always this beautiful. Sometimes in our lives we eat out of plastic containers with sporks.

And you know what…it’s okay! Part of life isn’t what you see. It’s a balance of beauty and fun.

Life isn’t this perfect. But it can be in moments. It is as perfect as you want to make it. Embrace the good parts, because those messy parts are always there, hiding behind the scenes, waiting for you to clean them up.

Of this I am sure.

Lesson in a bloom

This spring and summer so far, the flowers in my yard have all been putting on their best seasonal show. They stand out brightly, their colors calling out to remind us of the little miracles of Mother Nature always has in store for us.

But flowers are so fleeting. They appear sometimes seemingly out of nowhere. In the night, they emerge silently, like a surprise party from mother nature. I wake up and stand on my deck, marveling at how lovely they really are. And then, the next day almost without warning, they are gone. Just a brief memory in time.

Those flowers that seem so fragile and delicate somtimes. Yet, I overlook the strength it takes them to bloom - to show themselves. That is really what amazes me. All their energy goes into that moment - full face to the world. Showtime.

But the beauty and the miracle doesn’t really lie within the actual flower, does it? The beauty is really in the infrastructure that allows that plant to bloom in the first place. Roots. Stems. Leaves. All working towards the goal of the one part that gets noticed. It hardly seems fair. We look to those prettiest parts, colorful blooms facing the world, scanning over the real miracle that is happening…the support system.

The prettiest parts are noticeable for a reason…reproduction and survival. But I think the life lesson here is to appreciate the beauty - then remember how it gets there. An array of factors take place in making that flower grow and bloom. An entire system lives within that plant - just like us…just like our lives. Then the weather, the sunshine, the oxygen…they all play a role too. It takes more to create the beauty than what we see in the moment of the bloom.

While the flower is lovely, I find it all a reason to celebrate. Those pretty leaves. That strong stem. That deep, complex root system. It all deserves the celebration for hard work, support and a job well-done.

I have had so much fun...

Leena, on our trip to Mexico. What a fun time!

“I have had so much fun…”

Pauline Buck - or Leena as we all called her - lived for fun. She looked for the joy in every day life. Sometimes we didn’t realize that the fun she loved to have lied directly within each of us. For her, fun was in the gathering of family. Fun came with togetherness. It didn’t have to be a party. Just time shared. Maybe a meal. Definitely some wine. And good conversation. That is all she needed to have fun.

These words came from an evening just like the one described - family being together. We had all been out for her birthday that day celebrating her 80 years on this planet. Late into the evening after he got home, her “favorite son-in-law” was recording a video of her. She was laughing…drinking wine…playful…joyful. She had an evening with family - an evening of fun. It was exactly as she wanted it…celebrating the good parts, enjoying her family and being together. As simple as that.

__________

Leena left us too early. She snuck away in the early hours of the morning on May 27th. While we knew it was coming, I don’t think any of us were quite finished with her. But she was. She told us all so for the months leading up to that day, gathering her pieces…telling us stories…making requests. The solitude of COVID, the reality of aging, the loneliness of loss was all too much for her soul and she let us know. These past months were spent dotting her I’s and crossing her T's. While we knew it was impending, I resisted. I fought the notion tooth and nail. I guess I just wasn’t done. Just one more dance…one more laugh…one more glass of champagne together…one more trip. And so many more stories and gaps I wanted to fill

But those words are enough. She left us with a hidden treasure uncovered by her son-in-law days after she left. Those words will resonate with every part of me. “I have had so much fun…”

Leena lived a life she enjoyed. She found joy and humor and tried most days to focus on that. She laughed at herself and made us soften our edges just a little in doing so. She showed us all how to live joyfully and fully in herself. She celebrated life as much as she could and loved us all where we as we showed up…imperfect and messy. But we were us and that’s all she needed.

Leena taught me that life is about having fun. Its about joy and family and love. All of it, together, in one big sloppy mess. Slurp it up. Make a mess. Find the fun. Stop fighting joy. Because like a butterfly, joy and fun will move on playfully to the next open flower if it doesn’t have a spot to land. So wait for it and be open to it. Fun may be right where you least expect it.

So just remember…have SO.MUCH.FUN.

In memory
PAULINE BUCK
December 10, 1935 - May 27, 2021

https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/greenville-sc/pauline-buck-10211743?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=share_obit&utm_content=obituary&fbclid=IwAR09NSPvEOCoVIoeEceNRlmgfmtLYJqS-0O9Y8jNqwOR4eQAgGI2Rw9Xdqk

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?

The light through the dark.

The color seeping through is like salve to my soul…reminding me to breathe, be still, and know. It’s there to help me remember me that through the some of these hard days, I am okay. I will be okay.

A person. A phone call. A text. An animal. A sunset through the trees. It’s all there gently reminding you to remember that you are okay.

The light is always there. You just have to want to see it.

If you are struggling with anxiety or depression, please know that it’s okay and normal. Life is hard enough and this year was a doozy. Reach out if you need an ear. I will always respond to you!

Looking up

Things are looking up.

Call me an optimist, but I always feel like we are headed up rather than down. Sometimes…okay often…I am not right. But it’s okay to always feel like our lives have room for improvement.

I have lived a lot of my life in fear. Scared of making the wrong decision. Scared to change my mind. Scared of my own shadow. So feeling like life has room for improvement is, in and of itself, IMPROVEMENT!

So when I see blue sky, changing leaves, and fresh air, I get hopeful for the future.

Truth be told, life hasn’t been all that bad. I have had moments…like everyone. But this sky, these leaves ,this moment…it just lets me know that really and truly it’s all gonna be okay.

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

Simply the Best

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

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

Tina Turner