This is a photo of my grandmother, Dorothy Jane, who passed over to the other side last night. She was 93-11/12 (her birthday is tomorrow). I loved her very much even though she often drove me nuts. =) In the end, she went quickly, in her sleep, with her family all around her. It’s a blessing, and quite an emotional roller coaster!
I’ve taken a lot of comfort from this post by someone I respect quite a lot, Danielle Laporte, Remember, you said Yes to this. My Mom and I said yes when we opted to move my grandmother out of Florida (which she loved, but where we couldn’t reach her without a day’s travel and where she was requiring more and more care by people who weren’t family) and up to Rhode Island, so that we could love her up before she moved on. We said yes to having regular lunches with her and taking her to doctor’s appointments. We said yes to creating the opportunity for her to spend regular time with her great grandchildren. And we said yes to being with her as she took her last breaths.
And now, I’m saying yes to sending out a post from the archives this week so I can go have lunch with my mom and uncle and do some laughing through tears as we make arrangements for the next steps.
These suckers (and their many sisters and brothers) took over two months on the vine to ripen. Two months! And then they took another 3 weeks on the windowsill.
A few weeks in, and I was craving some freshly made salsa something fierce. I tried staring at the tomatoes, willing them to turn red before my very eyes. I tried ignoring them, and focusing on the veggies that were ready to go. I admit, I even tried hating those tomatoes at times. =)
Here’s what finally happened: I sauntered down to the farmer’s market and bought some luscious, juicy, heirloom tomatoes and whirred those puppies up into some righteous salsa.
“If you want different results, you’ve got to take different actions.”
So simple. So succinct. If you’ve ever thought you might like to give coaching with me a try but are hesitant for whatever reason, this quote pretty much sums up the experience. It gives you 90% of the information you need to make change! Take it and run with it. =)
Let’s say, for example, you want to eat a healthier diet. You’ve got to buy different stuff at the grocery store and reach for different things when you open the fridge. You’ve got to hear your same ole hunger cues and decide to do something other than your typical response.
If you’ve been with me a while, you know that we have been renovating our house. For over a year now. Here’s an update on that: We are still renovating our house. As of today, the shingles are half-on, the basement is still completely unfinished, we have no coat racks or towel racks or bookcases, or front door, for that matter. We do have plumbing and electrical for a new bathroom, a new water heater, a new whole-house water filtering system, a bunch of new windows, and 7/8 of a new wrap-around porch.
It would be easy for me to stew in frustration about how long it’s taking. In fact, sometimes I do. =) But then I remember how fabulous the house will be, and in not too long. How it’s an honor to restore an old home to its original integrity. And what a privilege it is to craft a house that really reflects who we are and what’s important to us. And then I generally either cook up some project in the yard (this past weekend the kids and I planted bulbs) or go on Pinterest and look up creative storage solutions for the mountains of hats, gloves, scarfs, and jackets that currently have no functional home.
Before the retreat, I prepped everything I wanted to cover, and the theme I chose was “Life is good” – about how what we focus on grows and in any given moment, everything is pretty great, it’s only when we start thinking about the future or the past that we get anxious or start feeling regret.
My mind liked that theme quite a lot – still does – but my gut had other plans.
Everything that came out of my mouth last Friday was about creating space. Space in the body—to breathe, for our organs to stretch out, for our muscles to unkink. Space in our lives—to allow for sitting still, reflecting, NOT doing something every minute of every day, unwinding. And space in our minds – to get some objectivity on the thoughts we think over and over again, to hear what we really think, to try on some new perspectives.
I didn’t think of it in these terms, of course. I just thought, This having-two-young-kids-and-working deal is hard.
I mean, having two young kids and working is definitely challenging. But the fact that my body wasn’t functioning well made it seem a whole heck of a lot harder than it had to be. I was:
- A total stress case – one of the kids would cry and I would sweat blood.
- Picking fights with my husband when something didn’t go exactly the way that I had planned (for instance, nap time).
- Using wine to “take the edge off” each night. As the number of glasses I “needed” crept up toward two, and then three, it started affecting my sleep. Read more…
I mean, it makes sense. I just spent five days in wedding land (that’s me, my daughter, and my gorgeous best friend in Santa Fe last weekend). My brain has been lingering somewhere in the Southwest with sweet memories.
But I’d been in such a good groove of writing newsletters that came effortlessly! Here’s the reflex that came up. Tell me if this sounds familiar:
“I just had the best mojo and now it’s gone. Gone! When will it come back? Waaaaa. I better buckle down and get busy and push through this.”
Tomorrow I’m off for a long weekend to Santa Fe, New Mexico. My BFF is getting married and I’m the matron (cough cough) of honor, and my daughter Lil is the flower girl. I am so excited to be there for one for the most important people in my life as she goes through one of the most important rituals of her life!
So why is there a picture of my three-year-old son, Teddy at the top of this article? Because he is not coming with us. He’s going to have a special weekend all to himself with his grandparents. This is how I’m selling it. And I know it’s true. I’m so thankful that they are excited to host them and that he loves spending time there. Really, there are no problems here.
And yet, I am totally bereft at the thought of leaving him behind.
Teddy is my special little buddy. He’s been a champion snuggler since the day he was born (hence his sometimes nickname, “the barnacle”). He started preschool at the beginning of September and his snuggling capacity has only increased since then – most mornings he crawls into our bed at 5:30 on the dot and proceeds to burrow into my side. I give and get dozens of hugs a day from this kid and I am absolutely savoring every moment. (If you’ve met me in person, you know, I’m a hugger!)
The book you see at your right is written by my friend and hero, Katy Bowman – she’s a biomechanist who is on a mission to help us all take control of our own health by using our bodies in the way they were intended to be used. Her book, Alignment Matters, helps you troubleshoot issues from head to toe, and honestly I can’t stop reading it.
(Full disclosure: I also wrote the quote that appears on the cover of the book, and I am so excited about this fact I could just squeal, but really, the contents of the book are what have got me hooked. Not that my name is on the cover. Promise.)
Last night, it was the entry on eyes that had me hooked.
“Myopia is the medical term for nearsightedness. Myopia could also be called muscles in the eye that are too short—but that doesn’t sound as smartypants as myopia…
Here’s what I’m noticing this week: People in a weird, in-between time, where they’ve left their old reality but haven’t quite arrived in their new one yet. They’re feeling scared, at times overwhelmed, and having a hard time connecting to a sense of trust that things will actually work out well.
Been there? I certainly have!
When I was 32, I got dumped by the man I thought I was going to marry. There was no going back to that relationship (I believe the words “over my dead body!” leapt out of my mouth when a friend asked me if I’d get back together if I could). Yet the road ahead seemed so unsure. What if it was too late for me? What if I never learned how to trust again?