this and that (or the one where i ramble a bit)

there are things i have wanted to tell you, so i am pretending we are having tea and after being alone all day, you are giving me permission to simply babble...

there is this truth that i keep a lot of things private on my blog even though i do consider this a deeply personal space (and many a person has asked me how i can share so much of my life here). i have wanted to come to this page many times to share pieces of how challenging this pregnancy has been. but part of me has just not wanted to explain yet again. and i guess the last thing i want is advice...and (kind, well-meaning) people just can't seem to stop themselves from giving the pregnant girl advice. do you know what i mean? people can simply say the oddest things that are more about them and less about support and listening. but what we have been experiencing isn't something where advice really is helpful...i have learned a lot about my own need to support instead of listen through this experience and am trying to hold the space more and talk less with friends.

from nausea etc. for many weeks to suddenly being thrust into the world of more tests and ultrasounds and "everything is probably fine but just in case it isn't, we are going to do all of this," i have found myself feeling like a yoyo emotionally as we look toward next month and this little one's arrival. i haven't gained much weight (and lost a bit when i was sick), so i haven't looked "super pregnant" (though i am starting to) and the comments of "where is she in there?" have only reminded me of the "everything is fine but it might not be" reality, even though i have just smiled and tried to say, "oh i haven't gained much weight." the truth is we have been in that category of "worrying about 'baby's growth'" for months. and these comments have only reminded me of that truth. the good news is everything IS probably fine (and an ultrasound with a specialist yesterday confirmed that) and she is a perfect size (as her feet and elbows remind me). but the unknown is scary. especially when your unknown has a higher percentage of not so good than the average person.

i miss my grandparents. but spring brings them to me. and i know this. and it is beautiful.

i am so glad jon wasn't the only dad at breastfeeding class last night. and he was some kind of cute practicing bottle feeding the baby doll we were given during class. seriously. the guy is so ready to meet his daughter. watching him shift a bit these last few months has been such a gift. we are going to a couples who are pregnant weekend workshop this weekend and i look forward to continuing to deepen this standing tall together partnership we have.

in the last six weeks or so, i have found myself escaping to books read aloud on my ipod and sewing prayer flags and hammering letters into lockets. this has been a gift as i seem to find my footing as the rhythm of creating surrounds me. of course, it means i am behind on finishing the nursery, but that is okay. it will all come together. it also means my etsy shop is stocked with more things than i have had in there in months (including some fabric items that had been in a gallery for a while and are now back in the little room). there is such a gift of joy when i package up these whispers of hope to send them out into the world knowing someone is waiting to wear or hang them...and knowing i will be going on a maternity leave of sorts in about a month seems to have pushed me to fill up the shop.

i am in the midst of the last few weeks of working on the book. the first round of author review has happened and the designer is making it beautiful. and, i have been invited to know it is indeed real by the powers-at-be at amazon.com because Inner Excavation is available for preorder (right here...so it is indeed real). the wheels in my brain are turning as i think about all i want to share about this experience and the dream come true of putting words onto a page that will be turned into a book that one can hold in one's hands. it has been its own birth of sorts...and i am so glad for the opportunity to share it with you.

i am so excited that a fall be present retreat is in the works. it will be juicy and full of opportunities to sift through our dreams and truths and moments to claim where we are on our path and invitations to spend time in the quiet soaking it all in. yes. it is going to be so good. details will be available by early next month. so stay tuned.

tomorrow brings a new nine interview to this space. the photos from the interviewee will take your breath away. love this series.

and now, in this moment, i would love to listen instead of ramble. please share where you are in your world...what is taking up space in your brain (that you would like to let go of)? how are you? (really. how are you?)

the swirling thoughts.

 

i want to write about how the birds sing even when it rains. i want to invite you in so you can know in an instant and let go of the words and confusion. i want to rest my mind, my heart, until the wind is all that i hear. i want to step inside and see. i want to open up. i want to breathe you inside me until you fill the space. i want to push back until i am cocooned in truth. i want to fill in the cracks with life. i want to sway, eyes closed, until the end. i want to live it. i want to tiptoe into the tulip petals. i want to bring you hope to wear around your heart. i want to listen. i want to grow roots until the fear is gone. i want to remember each word. i want to remember it softly.

i want...

 

i want to write something. i want to write something that will resonate and remind you of where you come from and push you to think about where you want to go. i want to remember all that i know so that in the moments where the quiet feels more like empty, i will hear truth instead of fear. i want to write the words whipping around my mind but i do not want you to read them. i want to write until my fingers are numb and my mind sits instead of twirls. i want to hold on to your hand and trust that you will lead me through the darkness. i want to write each word down until the lists make sense. i want to let go. i want to sift through all of it until i find you me. i want to dig deeper until i hear only my breath. i want to write until everything makes sense. i want to see. i want to know. i will come back to me now. and let go of the wants and the wishing until it hurts. i will come back to me. and i will breathe. i will close my eyes and breathe until that is all there is.

the stories...

 

a new (whispered) soul mantra in my little shop

last sunday, a dear friend was visiting and we were talking about how much has changed for me during these last almost six years of living in the pacific northwest. she has known me since i was 14, and then we were colleagues in my job at the boarding school back in indiana. she knows that i was not my most happy, real self while in that job. she asked me about what changed when moving here.

being in a new place was a big piece as i tried to find my way...but part of this internal awakening came as i sifted through the grief that came into my life about nine months after we moved when my grandmother died on the heels of my first golden, Traveler, dying of cancer. my heart cracked open as it seemed to break in two when i found myself in a funeral home in south carolina facing the truth of this first walk into deep grief. last sunday, i said to my friend, "i learned what love really felt like in that moment." we talked about the relationship that i had with my grandmother and how she really did have such a challenge showing those she loved that she loved them, yet she found her way to show me. i know that her love shaped me so much as a person, yet i am saddened that, from my perspective...based on the stories shared with me, she did not often find her way to show this side of herself to others in her family.

i said something to my friend about now i find myself pulled to tell her story...to tell the stories of all the women who came before me. and, at this point at least, i don't mean the details of their stories...i don't mean the specifics of a family's journey. no. i mean that as i share my story...here, with my friends, at retreats, in my book, through the art i create...as i share my story i am telling their stories because they live in me. literally. they live within me. and as i walk in this life, i am the proof of their love...my mother's, my grandmother's, her mother's, and so on...i am the gift of the love they opened up to in their life...even if just for a moment. and i am here to tell their stories as i walk on this path.

you will.

i can hear you laughing as though someone might just be about ready to tickle you. you laugh so loud and long until you can hardly breathe. i wonder what time of day it is and what happened five minutes ago, five hours ago in your world. i see you, a little girl who has a little brother as evidenced by that plush ball perfect for a crawling baby brother in the photo. i see you and know that in this moment you felt just as loved as you did before he came into the world. before you wished on a penny at geno's and came back to the table to inform everyone you had wished for a baby brother. i know that sofa that pulled out into a bed where your grandparents would stay when you moved to the house on oak road. but now, now that sofa is in the family room and i can see the green chair and the built-in bookshelves and hear the rolling stones or is it neil diamond now playing on the record player. i see that you are safe in this moment of from the depths of your soul laughter. i see that you are smiling that huge showing the gums smile that people who really know you see when you feel safe. i can see you and hear you and imagine how soft your cheek might feel if you rushed up to the person taking this photo and hugged that person so close so you nuzzled your cheek against his neck and breathed in aqua velva and love. 

i think about all this as i sit here feeling a baby move inside me. this baby we've been told is a daughter moves inside me tonight and i call my mother to tell her and then, i sit inside the circle of it all and remember how loved you are, how loved we are. and even though the road to this moment of contentment and truth will be filled with so much you cannot even imagine and it won't always be safe to smile and be you and wish on pennies, in this moment of giggles and looking into the camera, know that you will find your way. 

yes, baby girl, you will find your way.