here

here there is the push and pull of being a three year old.

here there is laughter between old friends.

here there is exhaustion stacked right next to please let this get easier.

here there is a quiet understanding.

here there is an exquisite salad of beets + goat cheese.

here there is a new haircut that feels like home.

here there is the neverending headcold of October.

here there is support and love and an ease unfolding.

here there is another layer shedding slowly but perhaps at exactly the right pace.

yes.

(because sometimes you just need to make a list to make sense of things.)

and how are things over there? i'd really love to know. 

because...

because the re-entry after the Story Excavation Retreat has been a bit hard for me

because I'm trying to practice self-compassion even though the to-do list feels long

because joy can come in simple, unexpected ways

because it really is okay to still act like a kid sometimes (especially if you were always told you were "too serious" when growing up)

because I miss the sound of the ocean

because you are so far away

because grey skies have returned

because sometimes the words just aren't there

because everything is just a little bit better with a unicorn, don't you think?

(finally found an online source for these little guys. right here.)

water your (toddler mama) soul

Here,
a pause before the day begins.
Here,
birds insisting this day is still full of beauty.
Here,
fog and rhododendrons and so many shades of green.
Here,
tired but determined eyes.
Here,
a necklace made by little hands.
Here,
a heart holding so much.
Here,
a backyard full of blooming weeds.
Here,
a trust that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

The belief that practicing self-care in small bits of time saves me each day is why I take these photos and pair them with a few words. Sometimes the prompt is “here;” other times I’m just trying to capture the realness, the beauty in the midst of the “to-do list” and the pauses as I move between roles in my life. 

And I love thinking about the me 10 years from now (or even 10 weeks from now) looking back on these visual and written snapshots and remembering that I really was finding my way.

an invitation

Get out a piece of paper and write your own "list of here." You might repeat the word "here" like I've done, letting it begin every sentence or new thought. You might write a paragraph or a list of bullet points. You also might want to take a photo to capture this moment and pair it with your words. This practice can become a beautiful one to turn to when you need some creative self-care.

If you want to share your words, please send them my way. I would love to read them.

***

A little over a year ago, I started writing down the practices, like the "here" practice above, that I use each day to stay grounded in the midst of all the beautiful intensity that is life with a toddler. I knew I wanted to share these practices and my stories of living in the toddler mama trenches in an ecourse of some sort, but I needed to live it for another year before I found the right container.

Water Your Mama Soul is a 10 day course where you explore ways to be right here in this moment and find the space to choose love...for yourself...for those around you...for this life you're choosing to live each day. You'll take photos and journal a bit and notice what you need each day. You'll reconnect with yourself. You'll give yourself the gift of remembering you.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Register right here.

Thank you for catching my stories and showing up here to share your own.

Blessings,

Liz 

self-portrait as meditation

Phone in hand, I extend my arm, let my face relax, and focus on one word: here. Then I snap the photo. Usually I take somewhere between two and ten photos. Taking 30 seconds to maybe two minutes depending on the moment.

I am capturing me, here, right now. This moment. The realness of it all. From joy to contentment to just being still. The photos reveal new pieces of me every time: beauty and truth and so many stories.

Somewhere in the last few years, taking self-portraits has become my daily meditation. This is the way I know I'm not disappearing in the midst of whatever the day hands me. This is how I remind myself that I can choose in each moment. 

I know it can seem overwhelming to even begin to turn the camera on yourself. Many of us spend a lot of time in a sometimes intense negative inner dialogue about how we look on the outside. And we fear the camera will show the list of flaws we insist we have.

But here is what I know: Capturing myself through my camera lens is helping me to shed the ways I have been talking to myself since I was about eight years old.

The layers of "wishing I looked like" and "believing I would only be happy if" and "maybe I would have more success if I was skinnier" and so many other stories stacked up since third grade when I needed to wear a bra two years before all the other girls in my class.

Now when I look in the mirror and look at self-portraits, I almost always see myself with softness, with compassion. Even when the circles are heavy under my eyes. Even when I am hitting my limit of what the day holds. Even when I have let myself down. The mirror and the camera help me to feel less alone. They help me find space inside me. They help me find my breath. They help me to trust that I am finding my way. 

***

You can find more juicy self-portrait prompts in my book Inner Excavation: Explore Your Self Through Photography, Poetry, and Mixed Media. I'm delighted to share that I'm selling copies again, this time at a special discounted price of $18. Read more about the book and order it from me right here.

here

Ellie and I are visiting family for a few days. And I made a huge choice: I didn't bring my laptop. I feel so much lighter. Checking email a handful of times a day and only answering what needs to be dealt with right away. Staying mostly away from Facebook. Yes. Lighter.

And I'm playing in a Smash book again. (Found the black one on clearance at Target.) Needed one when all this space not having the laptop creates began to fill with some brainstorming and thoughts that needed to be caught.

The words above are the ones I'm returning to over here. Thinking about how taking even a little break from the online world helps me to hear my own voice again and to shed layers of comparing and shoulds and why haven't I done or why didn't this happen and how the list goes on. 

Shedding.

Trusting.

Listening.

And just being really present to all the stories this little two year old in my life has to share every minute that she's awake.

Yes.

How are things in your corner? What are you shedding, trusting, listening to?

Blessings,
Liz