Creative play is instrumental in growing as a person, expounding upon your perspective and fun (who doesn’t need a touch more fun).
KIT, keeping in touch also can be hard to do in a meaningful way… enter LETTERS WITH LETTERS!
Seeing someone’s words in ink instead of a screen just says something more.
Opening a care package from a loved one is like developing film and anticipating what’s to be seen…
I would argue that few of us these days are able to identify the handwriting of friends and family, isn’t that strange? In the yester years of note passing and postcard mailings, these novelties are something I wanted to extend myself to more and more.
A friend I lived in South Korea with came to Hollywood a few months back and over a long over due coffee chat, we decided to participate in an exchange project for fun and for a concept we found old fashioned but lovely- letters with letters!
We were both kindergarten teachers a half decade ago and so we continue with our ABC’s.
With a spin on the art of giving and an all hail to penmanship (let it prevail), we are sending each other a letter honoring a letter along with a gift each month. Using instagram, we’re having a ball sharing our sharing and treasure trove hunting as we go about out month.
If you’re inspired, find a friend across the globe or the state and play with #letterswithletters too!
Today marks the Full moon in Scorpio – Tuesday, June 2, 2015 (9:19am on the Pacific Coast).
Scorpio is about the unseen, the darker, the transformation, secrets, passion, sexuality, intensity, emotions- yup whole lotta lotta here. At the same time that we reach this peak full moon, Saturn is retrograde in Scorpio too!
What does that mean?
Basically, intense times in the mind and emotions (moon) and powerful karmic lessons that move slow and deep (Saturn in retrograde).
Oh and to just make it all the more transformy, add to the fact that Mercury (communication/travel/electronics) is retrograde too for another week.
This is a great time to reflect on the deeper aspects that you’ve kept hidden from yourself and be in your truth quietly, kindly and thereby powerfully.
Check out more vedic perspectives on this full moon on MyAstrology.net…
This Full Moon is to harmonize the energy that was started on the New Moon in Taurus. Themes of intensity and drama will dominate, as a way to affirm and sensitize the things we value in our life. – See more at: http://www.mydailyastrology.net/join/news/full-moon-in-scorpio-june-2-2015/#sthash.RDze7ZzJ.dpuf
And for another view that I found particularly enlightening… through the Peacocks’ Eye:
Moments that make you marvel, wonder, pinch yourself- how many have you had?
Make a list and that’s your dowry, your hope chest, your gifts to give your great great grandchildren, the handsome face across the table or your mom when she questions if she did a good job.
It may be due to my love of Audrey Hepburn, Brigitte Bardot, Pepé Le Pew, and being a mass consumer of Turner Movie Classics but my first time overseas was captured in the glimpse of Paris’ most infamous eyesore.
I had to catch my breath as the train pulled into The City of Lights at 1pm in June and the Eiffel Tower was no longer on a screen or a still photograph, it was rolling into focus all the while I dangled on the edge of seventeen.
126 years ago today, March 31, 2015, this industrial pipeline for the sky was made public and nearly tore Paris apart.
It’s strange to think now how much hatred ensued for an emblem that didn’t match the taste of such a fashion defining metropolis. And how many fridge magnets exist today despite such a fuss. Maybe that’s a poor argument, it’s the masses that love crap. Oops!
Oh well, despite the controversy, the Eiffel Tower was the symbol of freedom and culture to my ponytail, blue jean baby queen wearing American teenage self. I listened to Billie Holiday on my discman, smoked cigarettes and drank chablis with the fattest cheshire grin to be seen under the rigging of 1889 World Fair’s lasting icon. I loved Paris and that moment and will, forever more.
Can you count three visions/moments you’ve had thus far that took your breath away? C’est la vie!
In honor of April to begin tomorrow (along with budding promises of adventure and awe, ahem make that past or future wish list)…
All of a sudden she began to whistle. By all of a sudden
I mean that for more than thirty years she had not
whistled. It was thrilling. At first I wondered, who was
in the house, what stranger? I was upstairs reading, and
she was downstairs. As from the throat of a wild and
cheerful bird, not caught but visiting, the sounds war-
bled and slid and doubled back and larked and soared.
Finally I said, Is that you? Is that you whistling? Yes, she
said. I used to whistle, a long time ago. Now I see I can
still whistle. And cadence after cadence she strolled
through the house, whistling.
I know her so well, I think. I thought. Elbow and an-
kle. Mood and desire. Anguish and frolic. Anger too.
And the devotions. And for all that, do we even begin
to know each other? Who is this I’ve been living with
for thirty years?
This clear, dark, lovely whistler?
Loved this as much as I did? Check out more on the poem’s author, Mary Oliver, by clicking here.
It’s no secret I haven’t been writing this year. Since getting my first diary in 1989, I’ve not written this little.
It’s humbling to watch someone you love decline and them be equally aware of how hard it is to believe what’s happening. What’s happening? Shaky hands, forgetting who is around and what’s physically possible like standing, dressing yourself, body not communicating with spirit and the dance of humility and grace. My step-mama will stop mid-task and look up at me to say, “isn’t this weird?”
Navigating a wheel chair, learning when to step back, being patient and restraining yourself from “helping” was what this week looked like.
After midnight is when she decides to assert her independence the most and takes inventory of what’s in the fridge and freezer. She can’t be alone because she may fall in her attempts to stand. She knows it’s hard to not step in and thanks me for it. I let her do her thing for anywhere close to an hour so my dad can rest and then put her to bed which takes another 30 minutes or so. Everything takes longer than you plan. Taking a shower is a luxury for everyone, especially a long hot one. It’s like having a newborn, a toddler, a fire to put out and all changing minute to minute.
Having kept things on hold after my mom was given less than a year to live, when we reached 16 months I was given a hard push to get back to living my life.
I evaluated my goals with work, my academic goals for my own personal means and more than anything found myself declining invites to attend births, dinners, parties, concerts and traveling. I just didn’t know what to plan for and what my family needed. Would she survive? Would my dad need me to move in for awhile?
This month, we were told she may have only three weeks to live and it will be three weeks this Tuesday.
Trying to decide how much time to take off of work now to be with her or to help with the funeral is the strangest conversation in my head. It’s just unclear what the timeline is.
When expecting parents are given a due date, the birth team knows to be available three weeks before and after. You’re on call, you’re fully engaged and willing to throw all plans out the window for what’s best each moment, then you’re changing diapers, you’re up all hours and again, you throw out all plans for what’s pressing, for a nap or taking a phone call to the advice nurse. It’s the same coming into this world as it is going out it seems.
There are random moments of quiet to reflect, things are left half done and with the delusions it’s hard to swallow the shouts and confusion. When I catch my breath I yearn to know the difference between giving up and giving in, between letting go and surrendering.
Today my parents finally met with hospice and talk about the reality of what’s going on after a week of no sleep and really bad days.
It’s not lost on me that do this with and for a lawyer who used to run a home health care business is surreal.
Luckily, today was a good day for my stepmom but that meant that there was more of a fight to not give up and ask for help.
Note to self from Self: Preparing is not giving up. Acknowledging the decline is not being negative, it’s being wisely proactive.
Can you imagine being 47 years old and having little to no motor function after being an Iron Man athlete? My mom is stubborn, never gives up and always presents a solution if addressing a problem. The only towel she throws is a terrible one when the Steelers win points.
What does it look like to be positive, believe anything is possible with a good attitude when you have an inoperable brain tumor and things are getting bleak?
With little sleep, little time and lots of love, I can say this- the difference between giving up and letting go is patience, kindness and compassion for yourself and those around you.
There can be peace or fear in realizing that we don’t have control ultimately, and what we do have control over (being able to get up, speech, behavior, our bodily functions, thoughts, choices, beliefs) is subject to change. Babies don’t see poop or having to be carried as bad, they don’t judge these things nor themselves. Pride and grace are what we fight for as we leave our body and the awkward slow dance of requesting assistance is a massive part of the process.
Being a participant in what’s happening rather than fighting it is key. Fighting for yourself can look like fighting the world and reality but giving your best has a different quality, surrender is the ingredient.
I believe there is no blanketed clause or cure-all approach. Every person, situation and moment is unique which makes it even more complex to know what’s right.
What worked this afternoon in the kitchen didn’t work at 3am on the bathroom floor last night. Surrendering to each moment keeps me sane, knowing all things must pass and knowing I’m supported to do what’s right, to be here now is The Serenity Prayer in action.
Be Here NOW is not simply the title of a book or something to put on a t-shirt but a practice.
What I love about right now is that in Liza’s delusions she hasn’t lost her humor. What I love about right now is that when you need to cry you can be left alone. What I love about right now is if they need me, I’m here. What I love about right now is practicing being here right now and that everything I’ve learned as a doula, a yogi, a friend, a business woman, a student, a teacher, a daughter is serving me today, tonight and tomorrow.
In honor of my stepmom’s favorite album of all time…
Happy Valentines Day to you all and to all a good sight for the look of love is in your eye…
Eye of the beholder, what is first sight?
Here’s a present for you in honor of love and heart…
In college, I remember holding one of my besties while she sobbed that her boyfriend called her “replaceable” and asked me to pour her another cup of wine.
At the time, I thought it was an incredibly cruel thing to say and this phrase stitched itself into a lot of heartbreak hotel sleepovers.
Now, thanks to copious cups of pinot noir, filled journals, tear-filled pillows, crazy expensive international phone calls pre-skype and hours of meditation, I understand that we receive what we believe and things only stick if they go uninvestigated one and two, ultimately nothing is permanent and nothing is “replaceable”.
You can never control someone’s roaming eye, our fate, another person’s definition and relationship to integrity, others’ actions and you can’t safeguard yourself against a breakup. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not and better for it to our free will to take action (not reaction).
The whole people are in a life for a season, reason or lifetime bit is helpful to keep in mind.
“If a train doesn’t stop at your station, then it’s not your train.”
- Marianne Williamson
Enter Ralph Valentine giving…
Tis the season eh? No, but seriously, being chosen or not, at the end of the day shouldn’t be your narrative evaluation report card people. Boo on that, choose yourself always and if someone gets you or not, winning!
Someone choosing something other than you, in hindsight is always a gift (even if you can’t see it initially).
Which brings me to something I NEVER thought I would EVER say about all this: THANK YOU.
Thank you to every woman or man who came in towards the end of a relationship that originally threatened me and freaked me out. You helped me understand my partner’s character better and ultimately, opened the door for me to leave a situation that was no longer working and have a harder time returning to a broken record that didn’t need to be on repeat.
New lovers don’t replace us, they just keep our past beds warm and therefore keep us out. At first glance, we may feel out in the cold but really, we’re out in the world and we’re free.
The bookmark pillow talk “replacement” person hopefully will stay long enough for you to break the habit of looking back and wondering what if. Thank you to every person in my life who started something and became my launchpad and litmus test beaker despite my protests.
Truly, thank you.
Neat-o factoid: This doesn’t just apply to a break up with a lover either, this is life – life IS your relationships (work, academic programs, friendships, apartments, your work-out, yoga, meditation, your budget, everything). Re-re-re-re-petition will continue to occur until we learn from our past and make better choices. It’s all good, you’ve got plenty more opportunities to do better and accept yourself more for the next round. As my dear and oh-so wise little French neighbor says in broken English over black coffee, “Sweetie, the only competition that’s worth having is with yourself, just do better next time.”
Don’t fear “the competition” because YOU ARE IRREPLACEABLE, period.
To the left, to the left,