Grow

Ok. Moment of truth. Shutter Sisters posted a challenge for the New Year of picking ONE word to "influence" and "shape" the entire year. Picking the word was easy -- grow. I want and intend to grow in so many ways! Of course there is the new practice that I want to grow. And there are friendships and community that I want to grow. And I want to grow my skills in creating balance for myself and my family. 

Now that all sounds well and good, you say, but what's with the pictures? Well, there was this other Shutter Sisters entry about allowing yourself in front of the lens rather than always being the safe and invisible photographer in the scenes you shoot. Guilty. I have a love/hate relationship with my body. Don't we all? Some lucky gals are comfortable in their skin and have a certain confidence that makes them beautiful and sensual. I want that! I want to grow into loving myself and living whole hearted.

So the first photo was my not-so-courageous self-portrait. And then I took a day or two to work on my nerve and tried again. I like it. It makes me nervous that I like this second photo. And more than a little nervous to share it. This is what it feels like to grow. Uncomfortable. Nervous. Wanting to go back to safety and the known.

In what ways do you want to grow and stretch this year? I'd love to hear :)

Shadow Self

I've been working away, learning Photoshop CS5 . . . among other things! Wouldn't it be fabulous if we could completely turn our attention to one thing until we feel its been given its due or we are done! Laundry doesn't count! Repeatedly I'm reminded that with everything one thing we choose, another thing is not chosen. Photography, though near and dear to my heart, has not been chosen as often as I'd like in recent weeks. 

My mind has not been inactive even if my camera has gathered a bit of dust. On my heart has been this shrieking, unpleasant child that lives inside of me. All needy and grasping and embarrassing as heck. She's well hidden, tucked away from view, but oh-so-vocal in my mind's ear. My traditional mode of dealing with this unattractive waif, has been to chastise her and tell her that her wants and demands are selfish, unkind, immature.  I've had a revelation in the last couple of days. This child requires special care and tending. And I know just the person for the job. Me. 

How odd for a therapist to come lately to the idea that the compassion and kindness extended to those in her care can be extended to herself. That she knows from a deep-down place what is needed. She knows how to sooth unsettled and frightened children. Why not the child that rages within her own rib cage? It was a powerful thought that I could turn to this child and say, "It's ok. I will make sure your needs are met. I will look after you." Mothering myself, able to accept this place as part of my own personal development. This, too, shall pass. 

How have you become friends with your own shadow self? 

Sun Breaks

Yesterday was full of dramatic shifts in light with passing clouds of various density. We decided to explore a new nature park and boy did we find some wonderful things! As an aside, we finally identified what Poison Oak looks like . . . still waiting to see if evidence will show up on our skin!

The first find was hummingbird perched atop a tree, fluttering his wings in the breeze. I attempted to capture his fleeting beauty but was too far away and not quick enough . . . I do so much better with stationary objects!

We saw a wonderful profusion of wildflowers and creeping vines . . . didn't too close once we heeded the warnings about the Poison Oak. In fact, once I got home, I examined my photos with the kids to see if they were sitting in it! Fortunately, looks like they missed it. 

It was a lovely afternoon with tremendous views. Rolling hills, dramatic cloud banks, bursts of sun . . . bird songs and children's gibberish and laughter. 

It is Sunday again. How well did I meet my goals from last week? Its a work in progress. It's about the little steps moving in the self-appointed direction. Always balancing the priorities against each other. I did meet my training goals, some of my meditation goals and missed by a bit my goal to continue reducing TV. But it is Sunday again. The start of another week. Another opportunity to play this game and move closer to the goal!

Reflect and Anticipate

Sunday evening seems like a good time to reflect on the prior week and begin to anticipate the next. I almost said something about resolving to do this and that in the coming week but I'm trying not to become attached to outcomes. Tricky as I'd still like to get a few things done:) 

This past week's triumphs were completing the requirements for licensure, meeting my triathlon training goals and reducing, though not eliminating, media time. Of course, photography and editing excluded! 

So what about this week? Not really over the hump of figuring out how to routinely meet training goals. It is so hard to get out of the bed early before work and nearly impossible to force myself at the end of the day. I've been cramming all the training into the four days I don't work. Doable at the current level of intensity and duration. Not so much in a few more weeks. And then there's balance and my children and . . . stop. Focus. I'd also like to spend a few minutes each morning while hubby is showering to meditate. This would be a new practice for me. I'm a little uncertain how to get started and will be glad to have the kids sleeping and husband behind a closed door! 

What's on your plate this week? 

Lovely Day

It was a busy, busy weekend. Little Sis celebrated her 4th birthday with family on Saturday. It was quite the "Fancy Nancy" affair. Pics to follow shortly . . . and that afternoon, after dropping my dad off at the airport for his return flight, we headed to Forest Park for some picture taking. 

I wanted to see what kind of light I might find at that time of day as the next day, I was to take pics of a coworkers newly three-year old son. What I found was lovely! Apparently I'm a little partial to sun flare. Though I can imagine some well-meaning person thinking some terrible accident had marred the photos!

Big D was in fine silly form as usual. Initially both of my children played hard to get while mama tried to take their pictures. I was getting a wee bit huffy! Then some running and rolling down the hill seemed to joggle their helpfulness back into position.

I wish I was a better person when life becomes chaotic and unpredictable. This was a beautiful weekend - celebrating a sweet girly girl. I so enjoyed baking her cake and fixing her birthday lunch. And I enjoyed seeing her grandparents and brother join in the fun with her. But I also watched myself become more edgy and irritable. Why is that? Oh, I know why. I just don't like the answer. It's my struggle to stay present in the moment. To be responsive and flexible to what the moment demands without getting sucked into thinking and feeling the demands of what the next moment might present. 

I'm working on it. Right now in this moment, I'm enjoying my cup of coffee, listening to the dryer and appreciating the spring rain falling outside the window. In a moment, the kids will pop out of bed like energizer bunnies and we'll be off . . . 

Synthesis

Things are coming together. Thoughts and ideas. Routines and practices. I'm reminding myself to be patient. Observe and be grateful.

Blown in the Wind

Today was beautiful. A perfect opposite of the storm and wet of yesterday. Hubby and I had the babysitter come over this morning so we could go to a spinning class together. On our leisurely drive home, I saw the tennis court chain link fence peppered with brightly colored leaves. As luck would have it, my camera was stashed in the car so I got out and enjoyed a few quiet minutes taking pictures before walking home.
I must have been quite the sight -- sweaty, nasty work out clothes, crouching in the muck with my camera. Wandering dog walkers likely looked askance and then hurried away! But I love that the wind arranged such a beautiful spectacle. You couldn't plan it any better. I imagine the two leaves above are star crossed lovers, tangled in a web not of their own making. Doesn't it look as if they have been captured in a caress? 
The unique perspective of looking through and around dozens or hundred, maybe thousands, of links creates a sense of endlessness. Infinity. Keeping time with leaves and dew drops. 
So it's the end of another weekend. Weathered the foul weather. Enjoyed taking pictures. Had a hair cut and spent a wonderful afternoon with a friend. There were other good things too -- poached pears, pumpkin spice creamer in the coffee and house projects underway. I'd like to linger in the reflection of time well spent. Not rush too quickly ahead into a new week with unknown challenges and adventures. This is my challenge, has been and continues to be, to savor the moment. To experience it in its fullness. My tendency is to think several steps ahead. Plan and worry and speculate. These are great survival skills as a busy mom wearing several hats but they aren't great relishing skills. 

My goal tomorrow is to keep my eyes wide open. To feel and see and sink into the day and what it has to offer. Perhaps I'll be lucky enough to see something wonderful to share with you!

Birds of Prey

The kids love the bird show. My sister would be so proud. She's a bird of prey gal -- having done some pretty note worthy research on the California Condor with the San Diego Zoo and such. In fact, she may know these two birds personally. While living with us between undergrad and graduate school, she volunteered with the Oregon Zoo's bird of prey program. 
We unintentionally sat directly in line with the birds' flight path so there were many times when the huge, majestic (a little scary) birds flew within inches of our heads. Hubby says that the turkey vulture clipped him . . . I was attempting to focus on the birds through my view finder as they swooped in. It can be a startling perspective! None of those close up shots really came out. I'd love to figure out how to do that better. UGH. Running into that photography skill barrier . . . but moving along. The bald eagle is my favorite. I swell with pride and choke up a bit. I suppose the bird has truly become, for me, a symbol of what I want to believe is good and true about my country. 

Speaking of symbols, just finished Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol. Very interesting. Anyone else reading or read it? I'd love to discuss with others . . . I'm especially interested in Noetic Science and the implications for faith and religion. I'm going to need to gather my thoughts a bit before going down that rabbit hole here. Last evening I began a little "research" online, and found a couple of websites that may be a good starting place. I was also pleased to discover that one of the many unfinished books by my bedside may be a good introduction: The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself. 

Dolled Up

Uh-oh, watch out. I've finally discovered a thing or two about textures and layers . . . but it may be too much. I feel like a young girl that's just been handed her first blusher. Haven't got a clue how to blend and be subtle and sophisticated. In fact, the first day I was allowed to wear cosmetics of any sort (at a very self-conscience 14 years of age), I went to a youth group function and was told by a leader that I looked sick. As in actually ill. Apparently the apples of color on my cheeks looked something like the flush of a fever -- there was laughter which likely increased the surreal effect of blush on my cheeks! My lingering phobia of cosmetics aside, I've had fun tinkering with these pictures.  But is it too much? Do these little butterflies need a tissue and a mirror?
Another weekend is coming to a close. A basket of clean but not folded laundry is at my feet. A bowl is waiting on the counter for me to mix up some baked oatmeal for breakfast this week. My kids may finally be asleep . . . and I don't know what to do with myself. There is often a bit of angst about watching the sun go down on the weekend, anticipating the return of routine and the expectations of the week. We're a crazy lot, us humans. We pine for our "down time" and then get all anxious as we watch the minutes tick by, robbing ourselves of being truly present. 

We moved around quite a bit while I was growing up and towards the end of my 5th grade year, we were packing up again. I was old enough this time to know what this move would mean -- uprooting from a place that had become comfortable, struggling to make new friends and get situated all over again. The school year wasn't over yet so we must have had weeks if not months until the move but I was dreading it, sick with sadness when I thought of leaving one friend in particular. She and her family invited me to a dog show out of town. I wasn't supposed to be able to go because I was grounded for something or another. My mom relented when she saw how important it was both to me and my friend. That morning, the family came to pick me up and I burst into tears. I was too sad to go! My dread of saying goodbye quite literally robbed me of the opportunity to spend a wonderful day with my friend. 

Perhaps a rather heavy metaphor for the angst and general bad humor I can feel at the end of a beautiful Sunday such as today. I look around at the unfinished or partially finished chores and think of the days that stretch ahead and I just get grumpy -- sometimes. Not all the time. Thank god, my husband says! I guess, it's not just the end of a weekend . . . it's the end of the summer and the beginning of momentous things as well. Its an in between place. Transition. A place of growth and ambiguity and a touch of ambivalence. 

On that note, I can smile with acceptance at my moodiness. This will pass. I continue to grow and change. One day, I may even wear eye shadow:) 

Flow

No, haven't finished the book but I've read enough to be inspired. The general gist of it is -- 

when left to our own devices, we fall victim to "entropy" or disorganization and angst. We are happiest when we are challenged and have some means to measure our progress towards a meaningful goal. It organizes our psyche and keeps the chaos at bay. The "flow" state is when we lose sense of ourselves, totally immersed in an activity that fully engages us. Flow activities can be challenging physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, cognitively. . . . We have all (at least I hope so!) experienced flow. For me, it has been in physical challenges/competition, in my work with children and families and in learning. 

Several things have really stood out for me in reading this book this weekend: 1. that research shows that most people experience a flow state more frequently at work than they do at leisure though most people will say that they'd like more leisure! So what do you make of that? Are we culturally set up to believe that work is "bad" and that leisure is "good" even when leisure is often not as fulfilling and rewarding. Perhaps the problem is with how we spend our leisure. The book makes the excellent point that leisure spent in spectator activities (think media) leave people feeling slightly depressed and restless. It is certainly true for me. There is no challenge, no meaning-making, no potential for growth in a great deal of our down time activities. 2. we need human connection and to experience "flow" in our relationships, we need to invest time, energy and value in them. We need to share common goals/challenges and find meaning in how we pursue them. 

It's all still percolating for me and I do still have a few concluding chapters to get through. But I have some resolutions to try out with you. This week, my hubby and I have decided to turn off the TV and instead fill our bits and pieces of leisure with more challenging pursuits. Perhaps that will result in increased blog entries:) We'll see how it goes. TV in the evenings has been my drug of choice for quite some time. Especially at the end of a work day and there doesn't seem to be anything left to give. I just numb out for an hour or two and then crawl to bed. But I don't feel rested from my viewing time and my beloved stacks of books, well, they're still stacked! My second resolution is to institute Flow Friday -- I want to dedicate whatever entries happen to show up on here on Fridays to pondering the practical ways I can turn my attention to parenting and living in a meaningful way. 

Bibliophile

In kindergarten, I failed to learn my alphabet in a timely fashion and there were those (aka my teacher and grandmother) who worried something wasn't quite right with my brain. They may have had some slim reason for concern as I had been quite ill the previous year and hospitalized with pneumonia. Nowadays, docs reassure over-anxious parents such as myself that high fevers do not actually delete brain cells . . . but moving on. The summer leading up to 1st grade found both of my teacher parents toiling with me and a set of phonics books. Their hard work and dedication (and my resilient brain cells) persevered and I learned to read. And they'd be the first to tell you that I haven't stopped reading since! 
I thought I'd take you through a tour of the current stacks of books littered about my house. Yes, fascinating, I'm sure. The above pic features one of the piles with actually completed books -- well, one at least. The Irving novel, A Son of the Circus. He's a favorite of mine and this bizarre novel is no exception. The others represent my slightly eclectic tastes these days -- a little Victorian Bronte, spiritual searching and of course, what therapist would be without a book on schizophrenia. 
This delightful stack is currently on my kitchen counter. Did I mention the other was on my dresser? It is. (And one by the bed and another in the closet and a third on yet another dresser. I may have a problem. Do you think there's a 12-step group for obsessive book collecting?). Clearly this stack is all about work "stuff" and rather than continue to bore you with those, I took some pictures of some of my most nostalgic oldies . . .  
Ah, Gene Stratton Porter. She authored the little gem on top of the stack -- Girl of the Limberlost. My grandmother (the same that thought my brain had gone to mush) discovered all three of these volumes in her garage and I hoarded them and read them and have placed them in positions of honor in my bookshelves for over two decades. I'm such a nerd. 
Old books are beautiful. I love the feel of worn pages and soft, used bindings. You kinda want to reach into the picture and thumb through these pages, don't you? You'd enjoy it. I promise! 

The reality is that currently, I keep stacks of books about to remind myself that I do actually intend to read them eventually. I'm afraid to put them away. 'Course truth be told, I'm out of shelf space . . . but if I had the space and I tucked them neatly away, I'd forget I wanted to read them! Probably the best thing would be to quit collecting them to begin with. I should be disciplined - complete one before beginning another. That's what I tell my kids about their toys. That doesn't work either!

This weekend's task, among other things, is to finish Flow. I'm nearly there and then I can tell you all about it;) You know you can hardly wait! 

Inspiration

I've been reflecting on the questions that Tracy posed over at ShutterSisters which in my mind I've summed up as: What inspires you? Why do you take the pictures that you do? Right now, what inspires me is the notion that here is a subject I can take a half-decent picture of! I feel a bit like a kid at an Easter Egg hunt, carrying my camera hopefully, looking for bright colored eggs hidden in the ho-hum every day. I still feel a little sheepish when I get all excited, stepping off the path and kneeling in the dirt to capture some new-born flower. Not too long ago, on the same family walk that the above pic was found, I could be seen stretched out on the path taking pictures of a newt with my children on their hands on knees looking on in wonder in the background. Perhaps the theme that my photos contain for me is wonder -- at the beauty of my children and the natural world. 

Gratitude

I've decided it's time to revive an old practice of mine of keeping a daily list of "gratitudes." I want to invest more of my time and energy reflecting on what is beautiful and true in my life. What fills with me joy, causes me to reflect on the bounty of my blessings. I'll begin today's list with this photo taken while waiting for shy hummingbirds to come out and play so I could take their picture. My hubby had told me that he had "heard" the revved up birds buzzing in the tree with these gorgeous bundles of blossoms. So Big D and I took a little stroll hand in hand to see what we could find -- what we found were bees:) Not quite what I had hoped for but found the blossoms were plenty photo worthy!
This second shot is of the willow in our back yard. When I began the photography class in January, I took some pics of raindrops balancing on the delicate red branches. I've since added a pic of new buds and tiny leaves . . . and this. I'm grateful for the newness of life that is everywhere. I want to inhale it and savor it!

Other gratitudes:

1. The silliness of my children. When asked what mama fills the car with at the gas station, Sis answered in all seriousness, "Money." Priceless. 

2. Quiet -- the children are asleep, hubby is getting supper and I am alone at the kitchen table. Bliss.

3. Sunshine and warm breezes over the weekend. 

4. We are well and healthy. 

5. Celebrating Sis' birthday and anticipating the delight of small children hunting for Easter goodies.

Spring

New Every Morning

Every day is a fresh beginning,

Listen my soul to the glad refrain.

   And, spite of old sorrows

       And older sinning,

       Troubles forecasted

        And possible pain,

Take heart with the day and begin again.

Susan Coolidge

I've been meaning, for awhile, to go on a photographic mission, searching out signs of Spring. Yesterday, I dodged rain and sprinklings of hail to take these pictures in my own backyard! Granted the first pic is from a bouquet that I placed on the backporch -- but it doesn't feel like cheating:)
The poem is from a book a dear friend gave to me and it has been with me for several days. A prayer at the end of the day. A part of me has been feeling the "old sorrows" and "forecasted" troubles -- mine and others'. Part political, part economical and part working with families caught in the maelstrom of the two. There are the personal, and frankly more mundane, aches and pains. Big D has his first loose tooth and Little' Sis' 3rd birthday is around the corner. How'd I get to be in my 30's so quickly? and my children seem to be racing to catch up! Hubby and I have been married nearly 10 years  . . . another 10 will come and go before I know it and then what? another 10? I think I'm having a little early-midlife angst (doesn't that seem like an appropriate developmental stage?).

I need the promise of new beginnings with the entrance of spring. The sun and bright color of new leaves and crocuses feels healing and hopeful. As if we might all pull out of this winter. I need optimism. I'll borrow spring's for now. Less for me as I see my angst for what it is -- but more for the work I do and the hurt that feels near universal. God, I can't take more of the grief I've seen this week. 

But I can and I will. New every morning. I can feel sad and angry and still believe that people are basically good and that change will come. 

Enough from the overwrought therapist for now! Cheers and thanks for listening.

Lessons Learned #1: charge the batteries

Yesterday, the family and I returned to an awakening rhododendron garden to take photographs . . . and I was on a roll! Our latest assignment was to make a written list of the skills we want to learn and through the week, pick one and get to work. The tasks I had set for myself yesterday was to learn how to play with water so that it appears ethereal and soft, figure out the timed shutter release for use with macro photography and bracketing my photos so that I have a range of exposures.  Oh, and I wanted to get some of these durn ducks. Not so good with moving targets . . . 
Despite the order of the pictures, I tackled the waterfalls first. Yippee! I ran into the predictable problem of forgetting to change my very slow shudder speed before trying to capture the speedy ducks and the macro shots of these spring time bulbs was a wee bit frustrating. I couldn't get in as close as I wanted and then I learned my most important lesson of the day -- CHARGE YOUR BATTERIES! Yep, hardly out of the gate and done for the day. I wondered around with my family, who were all very helpful in pointing out great photo ops, with my dead camera hanging around my neck like a dead weight. (So dramatic on a Sunday morning!)
The last paragraph of an entry is always the hardest. How do I finish things up? I've been thinking about a word that seems to sum up my experience at this stage in the journey -- "strive." Certainly it's obvious that in photography, I'm reaching for skills that are just beyond my reach. But in all areas of my life, new and novel experiences are challenging me to reach further, try harder and expand. Growth doesn't come without difficulty -- sometimes I fail, in small and big ways. My battery died. I continue to not get my paperwork done at work. I wasn't as prepared for my students as I would have liked . . . so then I set about figuring out how to do things differently next time. Plan, prepare and strive. 

Photo Assignment #3 -- Figuring out the Focus thing

This week's class assignment was to focus on simple images -- fill the frame and begin thinking about composition. Fabulous plan excepting I think I'm a few steps further behind than my fellow aspiring artists . . . I just realized that I need to MANUALLY focus my camera. I mean, I've been doing manual everything else but couldn't figure out why what I thought I was focusing on wasn't actually in focus. Ta-da. I'm so excited by this discovery that I spent a bit of time with drops of melting snow. 
An unlikely subject -- barbwire. I'm loving being able to control depth of field and, once again, focus. I took several, varying the focus on the "clump" of wire vs. the pole. I'm wishing that I had filled the frame with the tangle and perhaps from a lower angle. I'm beginning to understand why, as a friend at the gym said, you could spend an hour taking pictures of a single bush. Of course, on this particular day, it was cold. I wore gloves and still found it difficult to use my fingers properly!
I took two pictures -- this and another that focused on the barn in the background with the fence out of focus. I like this one so much better. I don't know why. What about a fence pole with worn red paint and a bit of moss is so engaging? Is it that the red is reflected by the barn? The faint reminder of snow in the background, tying into the corrugated metal roof? 

Of course a post wouldn't be complete without some little trip into my inner world. The word of the day, if it hasn't been apparent, is "focus." In my last entry, I talked about focusing on the essentials -- those being sleep, nutrition and my family. Things are still a bit blurry. There is nothing "auto" about managing the multiple responsibilities and demands for my time and attention. Got to go manual . . . Man, that's cheesy. Sorry. I need practice on staying present in the here and now. Disregarding distractions and turning my attention to what is immediate. Right now it's my crazy offspring racing around the house. 

Resolutions

Finally, my first "scrapbook" page using Elements. I know you can't actually read it . . . that'll be the next step. Making it bigger without it being "too" big to load. 

I know making resolutions is supposed to be taboo and really, it is. What's the point of resolving to do all these wonderful things for ourselves and others only to fail? Except we never plan on failing! We expect that we will accomplish at least some of the things on our list and if the gods are kind, we'll forget about the others. Fortunate for me, I can already check of #1 and the list itself is proof that I'm working on another. 

Which will be the most difficult for me? The last. I think that feeling rotten about the aesthetics of my body (vs. its relative health) is my "burden to bear." Some sort of self-righteous flagellation. I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy . . . turn away from my horridness. What would happen if I chose to give up this idea of my body as flabby and unattractive and embraced it? God, the earth would quit spinning on its axis! Maybe this is the year the earth will stand still:) 

Here I sit in blessed silence

Today is the big garage sale where we hope and pray to unload all our baby stuff. I've been sitting out in the front lawn now for about 2 hours and so far have made a whopping $7.00. We're not hoping for much - just for it all to be GONE. Once we made the decision to stop our procreating at two children, ridding ourselves of the crib and highchair and pack n play was the next logical and surprisingly painful step. But now we're doing it. Come on, people! Come and buy my stuff . . . 

In the meantime, I have this rare opportunity to sit in relative quiet with my computer and some books and the sun. Truly a divine experience. Hubby and I had one of those chats Friday night. He's been working late every night for the last week or so and comes to bed after I've gone to sleep. So this particular chat was about prioritizing our relationship, talking about things other than household and child management. You hear of otherwise "happy" couples that split when their children grow up and leave the home  . . . and I can see how that happens. You are kept so busy and there is so little silence that you just don't talk anymore. And this little chat wasn't only because he has been working -- it's also because between the work I do and the incessant need for attention from the kids, I often feel as if I don't have a lot of energy left to listen to another person, my poor neglected husband, say another word! Kinda like the phenomenon of being "touched out" as a mother of infants and toddlers. I get "talked out" -- my ability to remain quietly focused, empathic, other-orientated wears a little thin by the time I'm alone with the hubby. 

Now here is this glorious 8 hours of quiet with minimal attention payed to potential garage sale customers. It's a shame hubby can't join me but perhaps it's just as well. I can soak the quiet and try to recharge my waning resources. 

On other fronts, the book club I'm in has been working on two books. Both interesting and diverse takes on spirituality. The first is by Maslow, the famed psychologist, and is entitled Religion, Values and Peak Experiences. I had no idea that he dabbled in religious and spiritual experiences and though his writing in this particular essay is a bit sexist, the premise is very interesting. He postulates that when religion is separated from science both suffer and become incomplete. Spiritual experiences are valid objects of scientific research and science needs the morality of the spiritual. I haven't quite completed the book and am still getting my head around the role of "peak experiences" -- existential, other worldy experiences. The second book is a collection of American spiritual writings in 2007. A VERY diverse collection. I tend to look at it as a puzzle -- "What does this say about spirituality?" 

As rambling as this entry appears to be, the common thread seems to be my reawakening need to feel connected, to my husband and to something larger than myself. The reading, the quiet and the talk are vehicles for self-discovery and meaning-making. 

Different Parts of Me

Boy, no pressure writing the virgin entry on a new blog! Yikes. Why am I doing this? To talk about the journey of mothering, of course, but also of self-discovery. I hope this will become a place to talk about all the different parts of me -- many of which have, for a time, taken a back burner to my roles of mother and wife. I want to give voice to the athlete, bumbling gardner, amateur photographer, feminist/social activist, spiritual quester and growing therapist that are all part of me. Oh, and dancer! I've always wanted to dance and never really have. Shocking, isn't it? Well, unless you count hopping  and prancing about with my two tots to They Might be Giants and assorted kiddie songs. The more I think about the things I enjoy or want to experiment with, the more that comes to mind. That's exactly what I hope for this blog. An opening up in my own mind, expectations and willingness to try out these other selves.

Let's get acquainted.