we practice

Ellie Jane paints

I watch her practice as she stacks blocks, when she organizes her bows, when she sees what happens when she gently pets our dog or uses a new word or pours water back and forth from cup to cup in the bath. She is practicing how to move through the world, cause and effect, and how to interact with other living creatures. She is practicing being human. Practicing is her path.

Somewhere along the way so many of us decide that focusing on what we are good at (or told we are good at) has more value than practicing what interests us or even listening to the deep longings within to slow down, to write, to paint, to sit in the quiet and breathe. We let go of the space practicing creates and fill it with "to dos" and the things we must learn.

But this is not the way of the two year old. I see my daughter's curiosity appear as thought bubbles above her head. "What will happen if I dip the yellow paint right into the orange?" "I am going to makes lots of blue dots now." There is no fear of making the painting "too muddy" or "too busy" or "too colorful," there is only color + water + possibility.

As Kelly and I begin the Chickadee Road Studio Sessions today, I'm thinking about how powerful it is to circle with women who are open to cultivating a practice again. Who want to find out what happens when they dip the paintbrush into the orange paint. Women who are ready to let go of what they are supposed to be doing for a little while and spend time with what their hearts are asking them to do.

There is still time to join us. Registration will be open through Tuesday. Find out more here.

the space between

At the beginning of each month, Kelly and I are sharing our own brief responses to the month's theme over at Chickadee Road. My response to September's theme, "This sacred life," talked about how I find the sacred in the space between each breath.

When I close my eyes and find my breath, I try to notice how my body feels when I inhale and exhale, and then I see if I can find the spaces, the pauses, that also rest inside each breath.

What does it mean to find the breath? I mean bringing an awareness to your breathing. Noticing: How your body moves with each breath cycle. How your chest opens and your spine lengthens as you inhale. How your body settles into itself again as your exhale.

Try it.

Close your eyes and let your mind find your breath. Now let your body feel your breathing. Notice how your body moves. Notice your mind. Find the rhythm of your breath cycles.

Then after 5-10 breath cycles, see if you can find that pause between each inhale and exhale.

And just notice...

What do you find there?

Inside this space, this pause, this observed stillness, I am able to listen even closer for the wisdom that I most need.

Today, while in the bathroom (where so often wisdom and ideas present themselves for some reason...probably because every now and then I find myself alone in there), I found the name of a new Etsy shop I'm going to open. It was waiting for me at the end of an exhale. Just waiting. And when I heard it, I inhaled and smiled and immediately grabbed a marker and wrote it on the mirror.

Last week when I was sitting in my new studio, I took a few deep breaths just being really present to the possibility that seems to rest in every corner right now, and in the space between I found a new layer of understanding when it comes to a relationship in my life.

Perhaps there is magic in that space, that pause, that stillness. Perhaps it is grace. Perhaps it is trust. Maybe it is all of these and more. But I think the sacred waiting there seldom appears out of thin air. It might feel like it does. But I believe that we have to be open to seeking that space. We have to be active participants. We have to look for it. We have to practice finding it and bringing intentional awareness to it. 

When people say that you should listen to your wisdom or you read a quote on Pinterest about listening to your heart and you think, I have no idea how to do that or I have no energy for that today...when this happens, come back to your breath. Come back to noticing the inhalations and exhalations. Come back to the presence found in that space. 

And begin to listen.

Just start right here.

***

If you want to continue to have conversations about this type of exercise and how it relates to living a creative life, I invite you to join Kelly and me for the Chickadee Road::Studio Sessions. As part of our curriculum, each week I will be sharing a story that illustrates the ways meditation and yoga have become part of my creative practice. 

Come join the beautiful circle of women already gathering for this inaugural session. Find out more and register here.

May your day be full of light and peace...

space between...

Tonight, I am reading from Mary Oliver's collection Thirst: Poems, and again, I am grateful for the way her poems just feel true. As though I am sitting beside a mentor who doesn't have to tell stories for hours but instead just says what she needs to say in a few lines. And then says, "Now go live."

Today was a long day. 

But I promised myself I would sit alone for a minute or two and just breathe deeply and try to find some softness in that space between the inhale and the exhale.

So I did that tonight while Jon gave Ellie her bath. 

And it did feel softer as I let a few pieces of the day slip off of me. 

And I had the thought that the softness feels a little quiet in that way one can feel when you just really need a good night's sleep and then someone who loves you to make pancakes in the morning.

Know what I mean?

In this moment, I wish for you a minute or two where you can close your eyes, let your shoulders drop away from your ears, your face relax, and then you can settle in to notice your breathing...to try to find the softness you need.

PS The photo at the top of this post arrived in the mail in the form of a postagram from my friend Donna. Seeing her tea beside my little book of poems made me simply happy. You can now order Five Days in April, a collection of poems, here.

creating space within

Sometimes you need to simply pause right here, find your breath, and remember the truth that rests inside you.

To pause and breathe and remember to trust what you know.

Today, through this video/guided mediation, I am inviting you to do just that.

***

If you feel called to continue the conversation about ways to create space within you and around you, come along to the next session of Create Space that begins next week. This will be the last time I am offering this class until next year (perhaps the last time in this form), so if you have been feeling called to join in, I hope you will. Learn more about Create Space and register here.

creating space for joy

i opened my eyes (my heart) and took this photo . lake superior, april 2012

My daughter is discovering ways to move sand with rocks and sticks as she plays with her grandparents along the shore of Lake Superior. I stand at the water a few feet away, eyes closed, stomach and heart holding a few heavy pieces of this life. I listen to their laughter, the lapping water, and then for just a moment I hear only my breathing. 

I take a few deep breaths right here, feeling my feet beneath me, the sun warming my body, and the wind gently holding me. I focus on the space I create with each breath. Space inside me. Space around my heart. And with an exhale, I let pieces of what I do not need to carry slip out of me and sink into the earth.

Seeking a tactile reminder of this moment, I open my eyes and take a photo of a woman standing in the quiet joy that is creating space to move out of her head and back into her heart.

*****

Slowing down and noticing my breathing is one of my access points to joy. When I quiet the chatter in my head by sinking into the moment, I am gently pushed to see the beauty of simply being here. I notice the world around me, and my senses so often guide me to joy. And when I open up to joy, I feel myself mending and shedding the pieces inside me that no longer serve.

But it is a practice, this seeking joy stuff. It is something I have to cultivate and create space for. Coming to the page and writing about the moments where I find it (and documenting those moments through photos) help to remind me to listen to what I know and to keep on practicing.

*****

This week, Jennifer Louden, Marianne Elliott, and Susannah Conway have invited a few people to share some thoughts on creative joy. (Thank you ladies for asking me to play along as I love this topic!) The three of them are hosting a retreat on this juicy theme in June with workshops in writing, yoga, and photography. (Retreats about joy are a very very good thing!) Find out more about it here. And if you tweet, check out the #creativejoy hashtag this week.