Month: September 2019

Slacker

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It’s been two days. And no posts. My goal was posting every day in September, but obviously that didn’t hold true exactly. The last two days have been insane (not trying to make excuses, just being honest). On Tuesday I had the opportunity to attend a workshop with others from Tapestry that dealt with effective communications. I learned a lot and it was super interesting. However, when we got back I had just a short time to grab dinner and get a few things done before an evening meeting. Which meant for a 13 hour day at work (woof). Thankful though that even with those types of days now and again, that my current job is very flexible and accommodating. But yesterday was a long day as well. Working my normal hours, a meeting after hours, and running “home” to prep for time spent with friends. It was a go-go-go type of day. So, I hope to make up those two posts this week somehow! I hold myself accountable.

Community

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What I go back to is my need for community. Intentional space shared with others. That’s what I love and thrive on. I was reminded this weekend all the ways that I’ve created community over the years–through sorority, through ASP, through The Journey, through Inclusives, through international travel, through Women’s Retreat, and so on. I thrive on being around others, I thrive on traditions and deliberate concentrated shared time. And when I feel that void in my life, I create what I need to feel like I’m thriving again. Oftentimes it has the added bonus of being a positive affect on others as well.

This weekend was exactly the community and the people I needed to be around. The endless laughter, the tears, the sweat, the raw honesty, the vulnerability and willingness to go deep, the quiet (and the noise), the nature, the opportunity to reflect and recenter. This group of women fuels my soul. They make me remember that where I am in life is fine, and I am supported and loved come what may.

I’m thankful for the space my friend Anne made by facilitating this weekend. Oftentimes I am the one leading and I so appreciate the opportunity to slow down and not always know what’s next. There are no words for the things shared this weekend–but it was truly exactly what my heart needed.

The idea of community makes me so excited about starting classes and being with a cohort the next three years. This will be a community, people I’m bound to get close to and probably remain colleagues with over the years. It makes me excited about a book club on the horizon–of connecting in a new way with people I know and some I don’t know. It makes me excited about the possibility of another Inclusives Retreat.

Community inspires me, lights me up, drives me forward, and gives me a safe haven. Each community is different: unique and specific in its reach. Generally I create community because of a need I see. But the added benefits are endless. Community helps us dig deep, growth, and flourish.

Permission Slip

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Sometimes we need to give ourselves permission to do or be something. Other times we need to give ourselves permission to let go of something. And that’s okay. That’s what my take away was from our session this evening at our annual Women’s Retreat. And I didn’t realize how much I needed that permission.

It’s easy to write down the things that I want to give myself the permission for–but it may not be as easy to implement them. So in order to maintain what I am permitting, I will share the permission slip I filled out, signed, and dated with a select few people who are close to me. This will allow me to be vulnerable and to have a group that will hold me accountable–that is priceless.

This weekend always has a way of restoring my soul. These women have become so dear to me over the last year in very meaningful ways. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

My Gift is My Grief

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People say things come in threes: good, bad, and awkward. Yesterday a conversation about trips to visit sick relatives and saying final goodbyes, just in case. Today a text saying my dear friend had lost her baby, my heart aches. These moments make me catch my breath–they cause my instinct of “reaching out” to kick in immediately. It’s moments like these that I am thankful for my own grief and how it has taught me to share with others and support others. My advice, empathy, and care would be very different without my experiences with my grandma and mom and other close family friends who’ve been sick or gone through hardship.

But as soon as my breath catches in my throat, I hold it there and don’t let it out for a while. My mind changes to the mode of “where and what is number three?” And then I have to tell myself to breathe. It’s different for everyone. But it’s nice to have others who walk alongside of you who understand because of the thread of shared experience.

Thankful to have received and to share compassion and love in times of need.

Don’t let it pass you by

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I won’t let today slip by.
I won’t forget to write some words on the page.
There is something beautiful about introspection, and advice of loved ones.
And something so refreshing to see things in a different light and remember the value and worth of the tiniest grain of sand.
We build each other up until we become large hills–forged and solidified by lightening and turned into glass.
We are the grains.
We are the glass.

Welcome to My Happy Place

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I can remember early on the way people would assume I didn’t know what I needed, or that I couldn’t take care of myself. Sure, I’m a girl, or was so more back then, and there is an unspoken stereotype that girls are out of place in a hardware store (unless they are in the garden center). It was even worse on those occasions that I was put together, well-kempt, or gasp, in a dress. My exterior seemed to scream that I was lost or unknowing or looking for the man I was with–not so.

Even with my air of confidence that I learned to slather on my face as I pulled in the parking lot, even with my laser stare pointed to the exact section where I knew I’d find what I needed; still the questions would come “can I help you?”, “do you need some assistance?”, “ma’am are you doing okay?”. I should be grateful–and part of me was, is. It’s customer service. But it seems so unfounded when the contractors, builders, men with weathered hands and sun-beaten brows don’t get the same inquiries. I take small pleasures in the victory of making it in and out of a hardware store without being asked if I know what I’m looking for or where to find it. It’s not something I grew up on–my dad didn’t teach me to know my way around lumber or the difference between 14/2 or 12/3 wire (though he did teach me and continues to teaching a lot about other types of construction and mechanics).

I take pride in what I learned on the Porch some thirteen or so years ago. And I value my time learning in the Barn (May it Rest In Peace) and alongside my double returner (love you, B) and leading three great groups of staffers as a CD (shoutout to Knox ’09, Leslie ’10, and GV 2010 year round). But a lot of it I learned myself. It was intuitive and hands on and liberating. It was tough and dirty and emotionally overwhelming. But it’s a part of me and a piece of why I can and do take care of myself. Our parents encouraged us to be independent and strong willed (whether through their words or actions) and I definitely picked up that torch. So yes, I’ll take comfort in knowing my way around a Home Depot, what penny nail I need for a project, and the different between OSB and plywood.

I could spend way too much money in a hardware store–I could. But I’m okay with just going to feel a sense of peace too. picture of my adventure at HD today for work

Wrapped in Your Love

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I’ve been waiting to write this post. But when the time is right, it’s just right.

Shelly and I saved several of our mom’s clothes because we knew we wanted to have them in some way. Several of her T-shirt’s or outfits have a special place in our memories and our hearts–but we didn’t necessarily see them as staples for our own wardrobes. We settled on a T-shirt rag quilt–simple enough to make but also something we could wrap ourselves up in when we need to.

It was a process. And I had several other projects that were ongoing alongside of this one (shout out to my friend who let me help her with four T-shirt tie quilts for four very special high school seniors). We spent one night crafting with a friend and we cut the T-shirt’s and the flannel “batting” into squares. Then we cut the backing squares out of material mom had when she was a missionary in Zaire (DRC today). I took a break after that. Eventually, slowly, I sewed the three layers of each square together. And after that, sewed the squares into rows and then three rows into a complete quilt.

None of it was done perfectly. But all of it was done with love. The binding was the last step. A quick wash and it was ready to use. Shelly claims I’m going to hoard it and not let anyone else use it (she may be right). But there is something wonderful about being wrapped up in Mom’s memories, in her love.

Take Time to Breathe

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Today I had to remember to take time to breathe. Life can be overwhelming, intimidating, “too much”. It’s true. So it’s okay to take time for yourself, slow down, and just breathe. Remember who you are, remember your values, and find that place of love inside of you and operate from it. A friend shared this picture with me today, and it was a good grounding point for me this afternoon:

One step at a time. One task at a time. One thing at a time. You will get there, just breathe.

Create

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For as long as I can remember I have loved creating.  I’m sure it started at a young age–coloring, play-doh, and basic arts and crafts.  We had several babysitters growing up who instilled a sense of creative wonder in us as well–I can remember making sock puppets, creating intricate games, and activities that didn’t always end up the way they were planned (sorry about breaking that piece off of the chandelier!).

As I have grown up, my creativity has stayed consistent.  Sometimes I don’t capitalize on it, or admit it (Shelly will be the first to tell you that).  I love creating and being artistic.  Crafting is a part of my blood.  Several, several years ago I opened an Etsy site.  Eventually it became too much and I stopped making sales.  I have had a Facebook page that has continued (though not updated) as well.  Both have become ghost towns.  That is until today.  I’ve found such joy in being able to create new pieces for my own home, I have more than I need.  So I want to create as a way for self-care, and making a little money on the side is not bad either.  So I spent time today figuring out what areas I wanted to concentrate on, taking pictures, pricing pieces, and updating my Facebook Page and Etsy site.  I even updated my logos.

I’d love your support if you are interested.  All items currently are custom orders.  But I am happy to work with you to find something that fits your needs and budget.  You can check out my Etsy here and my Facebook page here.

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