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Archive for June, 2013

Jealousy Remedy

Posted by Nicole on June 28, 2013

www.ohsheglows.com

www.ohsheglows.com

 

The Interwebs of Jealousy.

The more active you become online the more overwhelming it can become. I look at Pinterest and the world of blogs and it sure seems like there’s a huge movement of women and men taking it upon themselves to be amazing.

Let’s take just one topic, for instance: FOOD

“Talented Girl’s” evening…
Organic, home-grown, or farmers-market-bought produce… fresh salads, home-made salad dressing… and for dessert she grinds up those almonds herself to make that almond butter and drizzle in dark chocolate made from local, small-farm ingredients. Oh, and, side-note, when she purchased the block of chocolate, she also somehow helped save starving children in Guatemala. She took crisp-focus pictures from multiple angles at every step of the process and put it all on Pinterest, Tweeted it, posted it on her Blog, and on Instagram too – ending with a beautiful picture of beautiful kids in a beautiful backyard under homemade bunting.

Oh, the foodporn! Oh, the earth-helping, child-saving glory!!

Delicious. Real food. Made from scratch with no processed ingredients. I am beyond jealous. Not only do I WANT the food in my mouth but I also want to have made it, grown it, taken such pretty pictures of my creation that others pin it repeatedly, and written eloquently about it all so someone else (NOT ME) could be jealous.

 

well…

I guess I could take pictures of the Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken we ate last night. I could take a picture as I pull it out of the TJs freezer it grew in. I could talk about how the cold bag kept my ice cream from melting in the car. I could take extreme close-ups with my phone as I rip open the bag with my bare hands and each little chunk of beige chicken cascades onto the cookie sheet.

I could write about my children and how they most enjoy jumping up and slapping their tiny butts during dinner, rather than posing under homemade chevron-covered flags and bunting…. the four-year-old yelling things like, “Oh, Sexy Boy!!” “Boooty!” (#motheroftheyear)

But, that’s only impressive to a select group of people.

**********

How does a regular person compete with all the genius going on online? Because it is in EVERY area of life. It is organization, business savvy, branding, art, children, spirituality, fitness, and everything else anyone can become a genius at.

Before all of this, we each lived with the nagging thought that we might not be the “best.” I might not be good enough. We had an inkling that there was probably someone smarter and better out there doing what we try to do.

But Now… Now, we can find concrete evidence of our mediocrity within minutes.

Right now, I literally have 10 tabs open in my browser of blogs and things I think are awesome.

Here’s some:

http://sarahbessey.com/

http://squeeinc.com/

http://ohsheglows.com/

http://eloranicole.com/

http://catalogliving.net/

http://www.aholyexperience.com/

http://www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

http://www.sevenly.org

And that’s just to name a few.  I am overwhelmed by the giftedness of the human race. People want to help each other. People write about what matters to them. People create, laugh, eat, strategize, build, write and share. People are amazing, brave & creative.

 

And

I

am

jealous.

Not just a little

a lot.

 

Wrestling with jealousy is like hitting yourself in the face and expecting to feel so much better.

 

I do not feel better. I see your brilliance and I feel small.

So, how do I deal with it?

 

I could drink and laugh and fall asleep… which is tempting but overdone. OR (and this is a challenging OR)

When I fall into this whirlwind of my needs and desire, I could ask them hard questions like I know I should…

 

Why am I jealous? What am I missing or falsely believing…

Because if the things I wrote and created were LIKED by more people, then would I feel like my life was well-spent?

Because I am unsure?

Because I want to make a BIG difference in people’s lives?

Because I hope my life helps people see God?

Because what is the point of working or striving or caring unless it reaches lots of people?

Because there is a heat that drives me to write and create but it’s not the same if no one knows I’m doing it?

Because I want to connect?

 

And now, I must FACE THE FEARS…

The scary things chase me and I run.

Must. Turn around. And face the scary things. Face them down. Call them out of the darkness and into the light.

 

MONSTER: So, what if you write and no one ever cares? If no one reads your writings, was it worth leaving your kids for the evening? … Worth their questions of, “Why can’t you just stay home? Can’t you work next to me here? Don’t leave me!”

When I face a monster, the hero in me must stand up….

HERO:  Listen, can you believe in a God who values the sparrow no human ever sees or cares about? And let it be enough for you?  Can you live your life – passionately and honestly – as an offering to your Creator, no matter who else ever sees?  Can you listen to your passions and act?

 

Can I be God’s sparrow?

Building nests.

Chirping to myself and the air

Flying! A miracle no one may ever see

But a miracle meant for me and my Creator.

 

Flying with my God…

My, God! How I missed it!

I am flying. And I’m missing the miracle. When you are FLYING, who cares if anyone else sees!?!

 

It is incredibly challenging to enjoy the genius of others and still allow our own lives to matter – for a creator and artist, especially. But flying is flying and I cannot let myself or anyone who happens upon this little collection of words to waste another day.  At the end of this era of my life, when I am older and my abilities have changed, I never want to look back and remember how wasted my wings were. 

It all matters. Everything we create, everything we do, every word we say to ourselves and another human being …. the sparrow’s morning flight and mine.

Dear Friend! Whatever is holding you back, the idea that lots of other people are already doing what you might want to be doing… who cares?  No bird sees others up in the sky and thinks, “Oh well, someone got there first.”  Other birds flying do not diminish your own miracle.

If you want to fly, FLY. There is room in the sky.

Fly in the sky

 

-Nicole

For more on motivation, community, inspiration, jealousy, struggles — all the good stuff that goes along with creating and dreaming.
Check out these previous posts…

A Cold Cup of Water

Create for the One

Girl in the Windbox

Posted in Free Flying Faith, How Can I Help | Tagged: , , , | 4 Comments »

Hello, Monster

Posted by Nicole on June 27, 2013

There was a time when my daughter was very scared of monsters. These were nights of 3a room visits and long conversations in the dark. Nights when the blinking light on the smoke detector threatened to eat her in her sleep.

During the day, we could talk openly about her fears and I tried to find humor and perspective for my Dear One. “Face your monsters,” I’d say. “Monsters chase us when we run. But, when you turn to face them, they either run away or they play with you.”

So, one day we tried to look straight at the monsters and get to know them…

 

Wolves

BEING A MONSTER IS LIKE….

E = my daughter’s answers, Age 5
M = My answers, Age unnecessary

E – gobbling up chips really fast

M – knocking down a door when you try to open it.

E – Eating everything around you when you are hungry

M – trying to bounce a basketball and it goes through the floor.

E – Winning every basketball game because people are scared of you.

M – Being scared of the light instead of the dark

E – they like to sleep in your room all night and protect you. In the morning, they are in your room with the lights and blinds off.

M – looking in the mirror and startling yourself

E – being scared of your shadow

M – trying to watch TV but your fingers are too big for the remote control buttons

E – …So he just kicked the TV

M – wanting to make friends but everyone just runs away.

E – eating everything (including the jar) in one bite

M – loving camping and scary stories around a campfire

E – when you sleep in a tent, make sure to bring meat to eat

M – trying not to scare the bears

E – he wants to see wildlife, but he can’t because he’s a monster!

M – what does a monster eat while camping?!

E – Meat.

E – Rock climbing is awesome for a monster

This exercise made us laugh and gave us something funny to remember at bedtime as the lights went out.  Now, three years later, I hear her creating stories full of scary but empathetic monsters just struggling through life like the rest of us.

**********

I think, right now, I am really scared of monsters. But mine don’t come at night, they are here all the time and I just keep running. It’s scary to feel chased; a serious fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. Adrenaline. Fear. I don’t dare stop running or look back. We all know that when you look back, you trip on a tree branch and get eaten. We know. So, just look ahead. And run hard til you get to town.

I’m not following my own advice, though.

Have you ever done that? … Not followed your own advice?

So, today I am vowing to turn around and face my monsters… to name them and examine them.

Hello, Monster, What’s your name?

Loneliness– no one cares
Criticism– if anyone cares, it is only to criticize
Shame– you suck
Disqualification– no more tries allowed
Failure– wasted time and energy

I’m ready to see which ones run away and which ones I will learn to play with.

What about you? What monsters are chasing you?  Are you ready to face them today?

-Nicole

Posted in Free Flying Faith, Honest Home | Tagged: , , , , | 6 Comments »

A Cold Cup of Water (maybe with some fruit?)

Posted by Nicole on June 25, 2013

 

Have you ever wandered into a desert-time in your life?

If you are like me, it happened slowly; so slowly you didn’t notice the landscape growing more and more arid. One day you looked up, confused, wondering where you were and suddenly feeling very alone, very vulnerable, and very thirsty.

A glass of cool water on a hot day is like pure life soaking back into your cells. Dehydration can kill a girl. Steal her voice. Make her weak.

This entire year, I have been dying of thirst in my own desert-time. My throat parched and scratchy, I wandered, a little lost and a little plain-old sad, not knowing what to do next but knowing I couldn’t survive on my own any longer.

I’m a speaker and a writer and my throat got so dry that I simply lost my voice. I don’t mean literally, I could still speak if I had to, barely, but the words that mattered could no longer get out of me. Fear and confusion gripped my heart.

Then I heard it, a voice calling out offering fresh water! Water in the form of possible guidance and community for a career I longed to pursue with renewed passion.

I followed that voice with every ounce of strength and bravery I had left.

And I made it. I made it.

When I arrived, I didn’t just find a glass of water from a new friend, I fell into a river.

I fell into a river of hope, support, love, prayer, acceptance and power – an entire tribe of thirsty women wetting their whistles, finding their voices, and learning to sing again.

That strong, clear voice calling me to the river belonged to a woman named, Elora Nicole. A writer and a woman of valor, Elora reached out with her friendship and her Story Unfolding community & online classes. Elora builds community and platforms for other women to stand on. She introduced me to like-minded people and reintroduced me to my own abilities and strength. She gave me not just a cup of cold water but a living river, by reminding me that I have a source of water and life to offer the world AND THE WORLD NEEDS IT.

You have a source of water and life to offer and the world needs it! You are needed in the world.

**********

One of the most beautiful experiences I have ever had occurred during a high school drama field trip. No, not that kind of “beautiful experience” – stay with me, here.

We all sat in a room, at least 300 of us. The class was on “using your voice.” Once we were all seated, the instructor asked us to each take a deep, deep breath. Hold it. Hold it. Then, let it out with whatever note our body naturally chose. As 300 people breathed in unison and then allowed their voices to harmonize instinctually as the air escaped back into the atmosphere, the sound was electric. The walls vibrated. Our bones shook; not because it was loud, but because it was right. It was just right to hear everyone together.

All of us singing together, this is what the world needs.

We cannot sing when we are scared and thirsty and wandering the desert, but once we find water and wet our parched throats, we must share.

We must share our water so that others can sing too.

It is right to hear everyone singing together.

Elora’s favorite commands to her story classes include SING LOUDER and KEEP SINGING. Every time I read those words, that old Sesame Street song pops into my head.

Sing

Sing a song

Make it simple

To last your whole life long

Don’t worry that it’s not good enough

For anyone else to hear

Sing

Sing a song

–Sesame Street

 

Are you questioning your voice and song? Or to put it another way, are you questioning your purpose, value and career?

Please take this glass of water and hydrate, Friend.

You are a completely necessary part of the world. Your voice matters in the big, giant scheme of things. Ten people may run past your glass of water. You may start to feel useless and annoying, calling out to the thirsty and reaching out with your cup. But, don’t give up. I am so grateful Elora didn’t give up before I heard her voice.

You matter but there is no rush, when you are ready and hydrated yourself, stand up and hold out a glass for the next girl. (Get on here and write a post for Leona!)

Elora and all of the women I now pray, cheer, laugh, cry, and sing with everyday through the Story Unfolding community don’t give up on me. When I am thirsty and have lost my way, there is always a hand with a cup of water just waiting for me.

I now hold out a cold glass until someone else needs it. If my arm gets tired, if 100 people run on by, I keep holding out my cup until someone takes it, because the one woman who eventually drinks … it could save her life.

Do you know what you really offer someone when you hand them water? You offer them a moment when someone thought they were worth keeping alive. With each glass of water, you save a life. Don’t worry about the 10s who don’t need your water, focus on the ones who desperately do.

Listen to your calling and pursue it with everything you’ve got. There is someone like me and like you, who desperately needs your exact cup of water. Don’t give up until they get a nice, cold drink.

-Nicole

 

***This post is part of a series over at Leona Laurie’s place. “Cold Cups of Water” are essays from women about moments in their lives when another woman offered a “cup of cold water” that saved them or changed their lives or helped them progress to the next level– or when they did the same for someone else. This series documents the value and importance of taking the risk and speaking up about what you have to offer.***  CHECK IT OUT HERE!

Elora Nicole is a story teller and all-around champion of women and writers. Go to http://thestoryunfolding.com to find out more about her online community and classes. You can also find her at www.eloranicole.com

 

Posted in How Can I Help, Wonderful Wrestlings | Tagged: , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Create for the One

Posted by Nicole on June 24, 2013

  Life is like one big TJ Maxx. And it can kill a creative person’s hope.

 

TJ Maxx: a large store where you can go to find a robe, a toaster, cheap hand-weights, olive oil, and a bedazzled sweatshirt all in one trip. The racks are stuffed full as far as the eye can see.

…TJ Maxx, I cannot handle you sometimes. You’re too much. I don’t understand how all that stuff got there and I don’t understand why you put those Crocs right by the BCBG neon-orange purse.

 

I know some of you LOVE TJ Maxx and God bless you! I walk into a discount store like that and my eyesight begins to blur. So. Many. Choices.

And as I walk, zombie-like, running my hands over things without seeing… I begin to contemplate the universe.

What about the people who designed all those clothes? Those artists and designers, producers and manufacturers? IS this what they dreamed? Did they hope someday their velvet pants would be stuffed into a crowded rack in TJ Maxx?

I imagine that each item of clothing was a battle to dream up, design, sell, produce, distribute… How did that ripped-and-also-sequined sweatshirt end up in this TJ Maxx? What’s your story, sweat-shirt?? Someone loved you once!

No one item is treated as special or important in these stores. You have to be willing to hunt and peck and search and dive to find something. It’s amazing that people are still willing to create and sell and give their lives to making things.

It is amazing that we are still driven to create in our overcrowded world, where all of Life is like a TJ Maxx: full of hidden treasures, chaotic, a little dirty.  We can feel small and lost and yet the passion to create simply doesn’t go away.

 

Have you ever searched through Google, Blogger, Tumblr, or WordPress and thought, “This is crazy. There’s so much here!” I could read day and night and never read all the good and great blogs out there.

If you are a blogger, writer and artist, have you ever felt like, “What’s the point?” Why write ONE MORE BLOG? Who is it even for? It’s already way too crowded up in here!! Blogs about food, running, God, gods, sex, fashion, moms, work, and men …. anything you want, there’s already a blog about it.

And this goes for EVERYONE – all who create, write, craft, teach, speak… we’ve all heard “there’s nothing new under the sun” but now we can go online and SEE ALL of the stuff other people already did.

It can kill a person’s inspiration – to feel like a copy before you even start.

Sometimes it’d be better just to not know what else is out there so you can live in ignorant bliss… writing away about the most “delicious brownies” and “how to take great pictures of your kids” and “how to be happier always” as if NO ONE EVER had given this perfect tip or made that awesome craft. But, they have. They already gave it/made it/wrote it/wore it. And it’s all stuffed into that Internet in the air.

 

Why make one more thing? Why speak one more word?

Are you haunted, like I am, by the abundance of voices, books, art, paintings, bands, blogs, pictures….. already out there?  Does it stifle your own creative process? Do you ever feel like one very small voice in a very loud, crowded room?

Well, here’s the good news.

You are. You are one tiny voice in a very crowded room.

And this has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not you should create new things, write new words, sing new songs.

We create because ONE matters.

Love

Each one matters. After 1000’s upon 1000’s of sunsets, I still hope to see another one.  Some days, I don’t care much about the sunset.  On other days, I stand on the beach and watch every single second. Whether I watch or not, the sun will set. And the one I watch, well, at times I remember a sunset being the only moment in a day to give me hope and strength to go on.

SoCal Sunset

We need infinite sunsets across infinite horizons to reach each one of us on the day we need a reminder that life goes on.  Fleeting, moving, beauty, perfectly timed, is God’s specialty.

 

For the one teenager who walks past the dress you designed, create.

For the one mom up at 3a reading your blog while feeding her sick baby, write.

For the one person who wanders over and finds your comfy, bedazzled sweatshirt, make.

For the frustrated cook who learns how to make good brownies from your recipe, cook.

For the one.

 

What one person creates; it matters. What one person hangs on a rack; it matters.

Your voice, your creation, your day – however it was spent. It matters.


So, what do we do when the desire to create lives and kicks and calls and drives us to DO and MAKE… but it still feels pointless and overcrowded?

Honestly, friends, freakin’ do it anyway. Just do it anyway.

For the ONE.  For the one human and the ONE GOD, if you have the faith and even if you don’t.  No sunset is wasted on God.

 

Do it anyway. Get up and do it anyway. Do it anyway.

Do it. Do it. Do.

Do it. Post it. Draw it. Sew it. Cook it. Paint it. Write it. Dance it. Sing it. Build it. 

Get even better and do it again. We can all hang on the rack together.  All of us, one right after the other, like sunsets all in a row.

For the ONE who will see yours and find hope.

Sunset Collage

Posted in Wonderful Wrestlings | Tagged: , , | 2 Comments »

The Girl in the Windbox

Posted by Nicole on June 20, 2013

A muse.

 

Knowing your muse is a tricky thing. A small army of us are wrestling with art and creativity over at Elora Nicole’s blog and within the Story Unfolding Community.

Ideas and creativity feel like precious commodities to those of us who need them to survive. If we are not careful, we will choose ideas over people, sparks over hearts. Here is one way I balance motherhood, friendship, lifelong marriage and the wild drive to create.

**********

Artists are wild women – willing to brave inescapable adventure.

Some men trek around the world to discover their courage.

Some find it at home between their two ears.

**********

Artists find adventure in their bathroom and discover their courage with every new thought. They go on safari in a beige living room at 7am. They hike in the Himalayas while sitting in bed next to a sick child. Artists fight bears, climb cliffs, go to the playoffs in overtime, every single day – all within their minds.

Please understand, I do not mean they make up these types of stories. To be terribly clear, they live these realities and terrors and struggles and triumphs within their psyches and through the experience of creating their art.

While other human beings can turn off their minds, go buy donut holes and have a nice, numb day. Artists, as so many of us in this community are, must turn around and face the beasts – slay them – every single minute of every single day.

Fight or flight choices all-day-long.

If your artistic muse – the one who brings the wild wonder and the call to danger into your life – is anything like mine, she does not enjoy being categorized or limited. To lock her in is a crime. She is fierce and untamable.

A muse is a wild thing. A hard thing. A loving thing. A soft thing. A brilliant, brighter-than-the-sun lover. She is Spirit. Ruach. Breath. Wind.

So… With fear and trembling, I attempt to paint one type of experience with the muse –

 

The Wind Box.

_____

Thrill

I step in and close the door. Take three more steps in. Turn counter-clockwise to force my face to the front and to the audience. Stand up straight. Shoulders back. Head up. I don’t know where to look. Just look straight ahead. Relax your face. Relax. You can’t do this if you tense up. Breathe.

I jump a little to loosen tight muscles. Tips of toes and down. Tips of toes and down. A nervous smile creeps into the muscles next to my mouth – pulling a smile onto my face. Pulling it like a satin sheet off a bed… off a girl on a bed.

Okay, now I feel exposed. I’m too nervous. My mind is wandering. I can’t do this. Alone in a glass box. I wish I was really alone, but the audience is watching. Skin pricks and tingles. It’s starting. Any second.

I hear the motor kick on before I see the effects. A whirring vibration covers me, like being underwater but remaining completely dry. The sensation is so strong, I expect my arms to feel heavy with the weight of the invisible water surrounding me. I lift them, just to see, and they move freely in the air. Shake it out. Shoulders and biceps flex. Ready. One last look through the glass, out to the audience. I smile for real. It’s my turn.

whoosh. thousands.

there must be thousands in the wind.

Flitting. Twisting. Flying. Brushing my face, my arms, my fingers. Coaxing me to action and back to life. Thousands fly around me in my own private wind box. All my treasure!

Was I ever alive before this? Before I stepped into the wind box, was I really alive?

My head whips and my eyes dart, connecting their will to my hands. I grab the little objects flying around me; as many as possible. In the back of my mind, I know there is a time limit. A giant countdown clock reminds me to hurry. This won’t last forever. You only have a short time to get all you can. Make the most of it. Hurry!

I grab and I stuff. Filling my pockets. Filling my bra. Using my skirt like a child at a park or a mother from the prairie – my skirts full of the things I need.

As many as I can touch, I grab. I don’t even look at them anymore. My hands open and close, hoping to lock down on something, anything but air. My eyes try to help, they try to look around this windy box as fast as possible, but blind hands move on their own too. The will of eyes cannot travel down to fingers before the flying objects change their locations.

The wind takes them on random, wild paths. They are wild things.

It is not money that flies around this game show wind box with me, but the most precious objects in existence: Creative Sparks. Ideas. Words. Worlds.

_______

Panic

They are so precious, more precious than money, the ideas, and I don’t have enough. I need to grab more. Please, wind, help me!

Overflowing hands drop more than they hold. Somewhere along the way, my skirt falls loose and everything escapes back to the air. How did this happen? I stuck some words in my bra, a few in my pockets, but they are not enough. This is my chance to claim creative worlds as my own and I’m blowing it.

Fool. Incompetent fool. Time is running out.

The countdown clock looms large. The audience sneers out “10, 9, 8…” All the voices yelling.

The panicked temptation to stuff every crack and crevice with the flying worlds is immense. As many as possible, get as many as possible. Time is almost up!

_______

Focus

A shortness of breath from deep in my lungs burns and I gasp. Sharp.

And I am smacked. Smacked so hard I get angry. With a sweaty palm I reach up to grab the insultingly violent little bugger now stuck to my cheek. I pull him into view and my eyes focus on this one world. It feels good to focus so intently on one thing after the furious, blind collection of the last few moments.

Eyes focus hard. Wind still blows. Words and worlds dart around me, but I keep my eyes on just this one. Hold it gently, firmly, in one hand, and with the other, I trace. Anger turns to curiosity as I trace the paths and lines, exploring the life in this wild, little world.

When my fingers and eyes and heart have fully soaked in the beauty and grandeur of this one, rather than stuffing it into my pocket, I release it back into the air. Free.

Plucking another, I hear the countdown, “10, 9, 8…”

Just one more. And I take one more in my palm and begin to really look.

One at a time – Catch and release.

Instead of panicked pocket-stuffing, I enjoy peaceful exploration of one.

In the back of my mind, I hear the countdown again, “10, 9, 8…” and a laugh bubbles up in my gut that pulls me to the floor as giggles pop out.

The countdown clock is an illusion, an empty threat. “10, 9, 8…”

The clock will always be near its end. The audience will always cheer and sneer. But, the truth is, I actually have all the time in eternity to explore every idea as it flies by.

And at that moment, I set them all free. Pulling every last idea and word from every dark pocket, I release them into the air where they belong – trusting the wind will bring me the next right world to explore.

 

Knowing your muse…

A muse is a wild thing. A hard thing. A loving thing. A soft thing. A brilliant, brighter-than-the-sun lover. She is Wind. Ruach. Breath. Spirit – the Spirit of the Great Creator.

Every day that I am brave enough to step back into my wind box, meaning the place I am a Creator, is an adventure. Facing the monsters and liars between my own ears takes more courage than I can gather some days.

And some days, the inspirations – actually, no, not the inspirations… the feelings of competition and scarcity come so fast and furious, and the liar in my head sounds so smooth and believable that I panic. Each idea looks better than the next. Quantity becomes paramount. I never actually create, I just procure more pieces. And the imaginary countdown clock in my head fills my heart with dread that I’m too slow and I’m too late.

But, when I pick up just one world at a time, everything changes. When I let the wind bring me just the right idea to explore, I feel safe. I realize that I have all the time in eternity to create.

Knowing your muse is complex and beautiful, and for today, my friends, when you bravely step into your wind box, pick one tiny world and explore it completely. Let it grow big and important with your help, Artist, and then let it fly free. Trust that another one will come along, just as beautiful as the first. Trust that there is time. Trust that you are not alone in feeling crazy or panicked, inspired or powerful.

This girl in a wind box, with my hair flying everywhere and a great big smile on my face is waving to you and cheering you on.

 

-Nicole

And, go check out Elora’s blog!  This was written as a post for her blog. Mine sits alongside some amazing other writers’ contributions. If you are an artist or a writer or just like reading, you will love her place.

Posted in How Can I Help, Wonderful Wrestlings | Tagged: , , , | 1 Comment »

Spring and Summer

Posted by Nicole on June 11, 2013

My daughter is at her last day of preschool. This is an incredibly big deal to the cells in my body. I feel them shrink today in preparation. Outside the hustle of the moment, quiet inside myself, I see her – all spunk and 5-year-old skin. I watch the families around me carrying babies, smiling, correcting, juggling – the ones in the middle.

This is the end of a huge season of my life. This season of spring. Our Spring. The beginnings of life.

SPRING

Baby Coco

Spring: Getting to love Miracles up close and have their love in return.

Spring: Feeling incredible pain and holding on for dear life to the factual importance of love. 

Spring: Seeing cherubs crawl around my living room, rolling in clean clothes and pulling the cat’s tail.

Spring: Experiencing love with all five sense.  Singing through chores, tears kissed on lips, sleepy hugs, hearts made with whole hands.

Spring: Spending months lost in a tornado of messiness and full-out joy, tantrums and hysterical laughter.

Spring: Knowing Tiny things matter.  Errands. Dishes. Smiles. Hope. Fingers, toes, touches, breath.

 

I will miss, miss, miss, miss these little years. Everywhere I went, whether I could see it at the time or not through sleepy eyelids and Starbucks hangovers, a community of babies and new moms and toddlers supported me. Smiles from strangers. Doors held open for strollers. Reassuring eyes making soft contact with mine while screams rang in my ears.

I hold the last 8 years as gently as I can in these desperate hands. They are a gift I struggled to appreciate completely. It is exhausting trying to keep multiple emotionally turbulent people alive all day long. Days felt like eternity, serious eternity, but the months went by in a snap.

I remember trying to brand memories onto my heart, hoping never to forget.

But I have forgotten most.

And yet, like my freckles from the sun… they are always with me, reminders of days in the warm light. I don’t remember the exact moments anymore, but these beauty marks all over my heart are proof enough.

The more we let life matter the more it hurts, because life is defined by loss and gain and loss and gain.  I feel it profoundly today.

All Seasons: Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter.
We love them each and then they leave.

So, today, we celebrate.  I will exercise and begin to reacquaint my body with its individuality. We will play at the park. We will hold open a door for a new mom. I will drink another cup of coffee (that’s not going away). I will tear up spontaneously when my girl mimics my hand gestures, sings songs by “Katy Perry Johnson” and tells me about her friends’ pets. 

I will enjoy sitting to eat a full, hot meal with my daughters and walking side-by-side with both my hands free.

And I will learn to love Summer.

iphone 186

 

Love and Blessings to all the parents in this graduation season!

-Nicole

 

Posted in Honest Home | Tagged: , , , | 2 Comments »

I’m Betting On Myself

Posted by Nicole on June 2, 2013

That’s right, I’m betting on myself.

Because sometimes when you say, “For you, I will,” the you is actually YOU.

Equinox

In the month of June, I will be part of something that made me laugh and then, as I let it marinate in my brain… well, it inspired me! (kinda like this /\ /\ picture! /\ /\ )

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Do you ever need a push sometimes? Do you ever bribe yourself to workout or finish an assignment? What prize  motivates you?

This time, I am betting actual cash on myself.

I made a little wager that I could lose 4% of my weight in the month of June. It’s a good thing, I promise!

It’s part of a motivation challenge on Casey Ho’s blog-  www.blogilates.com

Casey is a woman dedicated to health and happiness in herself AND others. She is silly and energetic and smart and strong. So, when she started this Diet Bet I wanted in.

(My link is: http://bit.ly/10YD0P4 and http://www.dietbet.com/player-profile/58323)

Already there are over 3,000 people in the mix. Everyone who loses 4% or more wins their $25 back and then we split any money left over if other people don’t reach their minimum goal.

Listen, it could be easy to criticize this idea if you wanted to; I get it.  Shallow? Maybe. Not the point of life? Of course.  For me though, putting a little money on the line for my health … I need this.

Don’t you need a push sometimes? Do you ever bribe yourself to workout or finish an assignment?

What’s your most motivating prize?

Hey, maybe next time, if any of you need a loan that you’d only have to pay back if I reach a new goal, let me know!! I could be like a bank with a six pack in a couple years.  🙂  I could call it ButtKickStarter! (don’t steal it!)

So, throughout June, I will be getting my physical act together. I’ve been sliding down this hill of sugar and salt and naps and depression for a while now and I’m ready to dig my fingers into the cliff and climb back up.

Ducklings

I’d love your support. Come back and read as I write about my June experience as well as my past health challenges, injury recovery, food love/love relationship, and all the other things I pretend I don’t care about on a minute-by-minute basis. AND join me if you need a ButtKickStart.

Today, I have a choice in the matter of how my body feels. So, I am going to move and dance and nourish this lovely place I live in. I have spent a full year just doing what I felt like doing – going on nice walks (sometimes) but mostly eating Chic-Fil-A and staying very, very still. It is a lovely mirage to believe I will feel good if I just stop feeling guilty about not eating healthy foods and exercising, but it is just a mirage.  I know what happens to my body when I don’t strengthen it – I can feel it slipping into entropy.

I want joy, strength, power and to get out of bed excited for a new day.

Everything is connected. The better my body feels, the better everything will feel.

Let’s go on a LIFE and not a die-ette!  Let’s Celebrate LIFE. It’s now or never.

-Nicole

Posted in Healthy You | Tagged: , , | 3 Comments »