::yes::

lately, i have been asked variations of one specific question: is there anything i can do? 

i have to admit that i am so grateful when someone does ask this because often it means they are putting their own thoughts/need to share a story/need to tell me advice to the side and trying to understand what i need, what we need. and when i hear that question, sometimes the answer simply comes right out of me. and this can mean that the answer is too quick and not quite what the other person wanted to hear. other times i am not honest and just say, "oh we're/i'm okay." 

after spending time at the reveal retreat with some beautiful, amazing, strong, brave women and encouraging them to hold the space for one another, for themselves, to ask for what they need, to own the truth that lives inside them, i am pushing myself to show up here and ask you, whomever might be reading this, for what i need.

our daughter ellie jane turned four months old yesterday, and this friday morning, october 8, she will be having open-heart surgery. 

yes.

this is why so many people have been asking if there is anything we need.

this is why my heart feels like it might break right in two at any moment, and i keep visualizing all the energy and wisdom and knowledge of the women who came before me somehow constantly stitching it together so that i don't simply combust from the fear and can instead be completely present for whatever ellie jane needs.

this is why i am so grateful for the gift that was...that is...eleven amazing women showing up to share in community and truth and love and giving themselves permission to share pieces of who they are and where they stand on their journeys. because, truly, where else would a mama who is me be with her baby girl when we stand facing the scariest, most important day of our lives, than surrounded by eleven other women who have given themselves the gift of revealing the beauty amidst all of the "stuff" that brought them to this moment?

yes. 

i am simply taken out at the knees by the truth that is the gifts given to one in the midst of the fear and the desperate hope. to be honest, it almost pisses me off because it just never stops...the beauty standing shoulder to shoulder with the shit. how the beauty and the joy and the hope and the truth shift it all. 

however, i do not always remember this. nope. i do not always see that beauty. sometimes i am so far under the fear that i am hoping i have the snorkel + mask from our old house on oak road in my pocket so i can somehow breathe as i try to remember which way takes me to the surface.

and so today, i will answer your question, your beautiful question of "is there anything i can do?" 

yes, you can do something for me...for us.

you can spend a moment or two thinking about a loved one in your life, someone you want to spend some time with, someone maybe you need to see or talk to. consider asking that loved one to join you in doing something you love. perhaps you will meet a friend for a date or take your son to the park or ask you mother to join you for an afternoon of paints and collage papers or take your daughter and her best friend to the ocean or sit curled up with your cat and have a poetry reading for two or invite your husband on a photography adventure or count the squirrels with your dog or call someone whose voice you need to hear. 

do this.

then, spend some time thinking about the love that filled the space between you as you connected with one another. maybe this love was apparent, maybe you have to really spend some time being open to finding it in the tiniest sliver of a moment.

you will find the love.

then, maybe you could take a second or two to gather up some of this love and send it ellie's way this friday morning and in the days that follow.

because here is the truth (my truth): i want to one day be able to do these things that you will do. i want to be able to do these things with her...i want her to dip her toes into the ocean and giggle as the sand rushes between her toes. i want to read to her every single mary oliver poem i can find. i want to teach her tree pose and how to braid her hair. i want to hold her hand in mine while her daddy holds her other hand as we walk off a plane in paris. i want to hear her first word and her 100,000th. i want to walk with her through an indiana cornfield. i want to tell her everything i know so her path is always filled with soft light if she chooses to seek it. i want to hear her laugh at yet another of her daddy's silly jokes. i want to sing to her until she joins in. i want to watch her stand tall rooted in her own truth on her path even though her back will often be toward me as she finds her way.

yes.

and i know that it is the brave choice to answer, "yes, there is something you can do." i know it is the brave choice to say, "you can be a light on my path so i don't get lost in the darkness. if you really want to help, you can sit inside the love in your world and then, for just a moment or two, shine just a bit of your light this way."

each day this week and the next and the one after that, i am going to push myself to make the brave choice. 

yes.

(thank you)

making choices as i find my way...

the author's advanced copy of my book arrived. yep. i am holding it right there in that photo. with my name on the cover and everything. my. name. is. on. that. book. it is a bit unbelievable i must admit.

part of the unbelievableness is because i am so preoccupied with ellie's health needs right now. so time for celebrating that this day has come doesn't exactly fit into the schedule in between medicine and feedings and appointments and calls regarding all that is to come...

but then there is this other reality that i so very much want to share my book with you! i want to invite you all over for a big ice cream sundae party complete with champagne and show you every page and point out my favorite parts...i want to tell you all about why i wrote it and why i hope you will find your way to a bookstore near you and seek it out or order it from me with a signed note addressed just to you.

but gushing about the book in this space feels a bit like answering the question, "how are you?" with "just fine" when what you really want to say is, "pretty damn bad thanks for asking."

so i thought about not even talking about the book here...but that isn't the right answer either. (i am sounding a bit like the guy in that scene from the princess bride. you know the guy. that inconceivable guy. but this is the way my mind works sometimes. too much thinking.)

so while doing all this overthinking, i found myself seeking a space away from the mind chatter and i did what i often do. i took several deep breaths and gave my mind permission to quiet a bit and i turned to words on paper and wrote this poem note:

in this moment, i am
choosing to seek joy
making space to soar
resting inside hope
dancing through the fear 
pausing to notice
(with each breath)
the truth that lives inside me

a few hours later, i was creating a few custom soul mantra lockets and saw this poem note again and decided to hammer the words joy, soar, rest, hope, dance, and pause into a few small lockets i had on my studio table. it was one of those moments where i was singing along with paul simon while creating with my hands and smiling knowing i was supposed to be right there in that moment. knowing it was all coming together just as it should.

this evening, while thinking about how i want to tell you all about the book and why i am proud of it and why i think you will want to read it, i thought about this. how i turned to poetry and creating in the midst of the swirling challenges of our current every-day world. how finding my way to the words that live inside me invited me to find my own rhythm again, so that when it was time to be back in the world of medicine and calls with the insurance company, i felt more grounded and more like me...even though this is so different than the life i had imagined living with a three-month old baby, my baby. even though i am more scared than i have ever been, i am finding my way back to strength and bravery and the wisdom that lives within me.

and then it all came together: my book is about this very thing. it is about how we can see poetry, photography, and art as tools on our path, and how these tools help us unearth the truths that are whispering inside us. this book is about seeking the beauty in each day, even when that day might also be full of challenges and heartache and fear but also when it is just full of the everyday stuff that life gives us. it is about turning to words and paint and paper to see yourself. it is about picking up your camera to document the life that you are living right now. 

and as i live this life and walk on this new path, i realize the gift i have given myself in already having this rhythm with my camera and pen and all that waits for me in the little room. i have given myself a gift of knowing what i need to find the joy and the beauty in this life. 

yes.

this is why i want to tell you more about Inner Excavation. this is what it it all about. we choose what we shine a light on in our lives. we choose what we see in each moment. we choose. even when life is full of the everyday struggles, we choose. and creating can become the way we document these moments of our truth.

yes.

i hope you will join me in a moment of celebrating. because i will own that what that photo above represents is indeed a beautiful page of the book that is my life.

(thank you)

blessings,

liz

i thought about...

 

i thought about running away today
just for a second
less than a second really
i thought about running away
from the fear
and the "what is ahead on the path"
but then i remembered her words
you are so strong. even if you are feeling not so strong and brave, you really are.
i remembered her words
and i knew: this is where i was meant to be
in this moment,
even while the fear whispers around me,
i am certain of this truth

(thank you for being a light on my path)

on this realness

i am drowning a bit at times. and i don't really swim well. i have a big fear of deep water, and if my head goes under, i try to take a deep breath. figures doesn't it? the person who invites others to breathe deeply would try to breathe under water (remember my earth mermaid wishes?)...

today, i am seeking the life raft that i have been finding in this space for almost five years. today, i am seeking the knowledge that i am being heard by someone who just wants to listen and not offer advice or "things will get better" or "just be positive" platitudes. someone who will just hold the space. (and i know this is so hard for us to do for one another. we want to fix. oh how we want to fix. we want to help. i know this. i am thankful for this. but sometimes someone holding the space is all a person really needs.)

today, i am honoring what is real in this journey we are on. i am trying to honor the truths and the beauty and the love and the fears and the shit. 

the thing is, when i look at this face and it cracks into a smile, i either forget just for a second that she is battling so much or another piece of my heart breaks off to float away. perhaps these pieces are gathering near the drain inside the space around my heart i create with each breath. i think somehow because she is such an easygoing happy baby most of the time, it feels like complaining to tell you the real stuff of how our days have been since she arrived. and just like i didn't share many details of my very difficult "high risk" pregnancy because i didn't want to seem like i was complaining, i have avoided sharing many of the details about these last few weeks. 

but, after yet another doctor's appointment, i just have to come to this space and be myself. the what is real me.

so here it is: ellie was born with a congenital heart defect. it sure does sound so very scary when you type it out like that. on one hand, just like with my "high-risk pregnancy," it could be worse. on another, it isn't a walk in the park. the "defect" is a murmur that could require surgery (of the open heart variety). at two weeks, we began our cardiology appointments. we knew what symptoms to watch for and at around five weeks, we began to see them. when we took her in, we learned that she actually was experiencing symptoms from a second issue. a "this could happen at any time to anyone at any age" heart rhythm issue that just happened to happen to our little one. this was what sent us to the PICU at five weeks. now that medication is helping, that secondary problem is (at least in this moment) pretty much under control and something that she will "out grow." at about eight weeks though (almost two weeks ago), we began to see symptoms of the murmur. 

so we are in a limbo place today. hoping she gains weight so she can nicely but firmly tell her heart to just do what it is supposed to do. giving her so many doses of medication each day we are trying to avoid our heads just spinning with it all. knowing she really might need surgery this fall. surgery. of the open heart variety. how does a mama even breathe thinking about her so new to this world little one having surgery. how does a couple even breathe when thinking about the piling medical bills and the fears and medicines and all of it and and and...

and yes indeed, i know, you just move through it. you just keep going.

having a child is like handing another human being a piece of your heart. because that is what love is. love for a child, a grandparent, a pet, a home. we sprinkle pieces of our hearts as we live. yes. this is what living is. this is what loving is.

we say in our own ways, with pieces of our hearts gathered in our extended hands:

i stand before you.
here.
(this is love.)

*****

tonight, after i wrote the previous paragraphs, i held a sleeping babe and felt this love and reminded myself yet again of the answer when i think about the question, "how will we do this?"

the answer is: we will live it.

we will live it.

*****

because i am so tender right now. because i have been holding it together for months. because everyone around me is quietly waiting for the "one thing" to be the "one thing" that pushes me over the edge and they will watch the roots keeping me grounded into this earth suddenly sprout wings as i float out of my body. because i need to just be heard...i quietly ask that you hold the space here more than share the stories of a friend of a friend who had this and was okay or not okay. i hope you understand what i mean by that. it isn't that i don't want your virtual hugs because those hugs (through your words) and prayers are the very reason i am sharing these words. i am being as positive as possible in almost every moment. i am holding onto hope. i am i am...but this is also very real and our journey has an outcome we do not yet know. 

and this is the phrase that comes to me (perhaps it comes to you too sometimes when you write in your space), i just need to come here and be seen. maybe it is the very writing of pieces of it all that will remind me that i see me. that i can hold the space for myself. yes. perhaps this is the truth i needed to find in this moment. perhaps i can give myself the gift of holding the space of all the feelings and letting them just be real and valid and part of it...part of me. maybe i can just let the feelings sit in the room and just be. 

it is okay.

we will live it.

(thank you for listening.)

truth.

A few weeks ago, I shared a bit about our "welcome to this world ellie jane" ceremony. Jon read her the book Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman, and I read her the poem "My Daughter Asleep" from the book River Flow: New & Selected Poems 1984-2007 by David Whyte.

When I read her this poem seven and a half weeks ago, it was like a wish I wanted to whisper to her and all that surrounds her now and in each moment to come.

But now, on this day, when I read this poem aloud, it became this parent's holding-on-by-her-fingertips truth, in the disguise of a poem by David Whyte.

May the universe hear me speak the words of this poem and hear them as my truth. And hold us in her gentle arms...

(To hear me read this poem, click on "a poem for a friday" below. Visit David Whyte's site to learn more about him and read more of his words.)

a poem for this friday