It's difficult to define or describe joy. I found it rippling through me this past weekend and I tried to absorb it as much as possible - hold it, feel supported by it, grateful for it...

Life is beautiful - enjoy it!

Signs along the way.

Sometimes you feel trapped -

trapped in a mood
in a place
in questions
by the weather
trapped in the now

Yesterday I felt like that and forced myself out with rain boots & an umbrella. It's amazing what a little fresh air and exposure to greenery can do for one's spirits.

(A bright rainbow umbrella certainly helps :)



This one is titled, Catching Tree Tears:


What do you do to "get free"?

I spent last week hosting my sixteen-year-old niece during her spring break. Since her departure, I've thought a lot about how complicated adult life is - how many choices, worries and losses fall on our plates on a weekly, monthly and yearly basis. Often our youthful optimism and blind faith are replaced by anxiety and doubt. This week I challenge you to see the world through the eyes of your younger self - springing from moment to moment with a bit of hope and energy in your step.

PS: Check out Eleanor Hardwick for photography from a truly inspired fifteen-year-old.

This week in our Unravelling class we're exploring memories. One of my favorite photos of myself from childhood is the one above of me lying in the grass staring up at the sky. Grass on a summer afternoon with the drifting clouds above was like a sedative for me - everything else drowned out and I was peacefully enamored with the world.

Fast forward to three years ago when a friend snapped this photo of me lying in the ivy near the Art Institute.

Some behaviors, thoughts and practices are embedded in us and run through the very fiber of our being. I like the idea of discovering these things - to connect the dots between then and now.

Sometimes you can surprise yourself by the person you've become. The older version of myself was often quick to anger and judgement and while I sometimes relapse, I'm realizing that compassion and understanding must win out over the alternative. People are so fragile - we just need love - and as much of it as we can get. It's really all about providing the positive words and encouragement that set someone up to aspire to change.

What "new versions" of your self are you discovering?

There is so much light & energy in this world
- people, places, experiences and challenges
that impact us, change us and push us on to newness.
Gather it all up, hold it close and mind the light within.

Once, in my old apartment, I awoke to see a flower arrangement lining my neighbor's window-sill. I was fascinated by the peculiarly-placed arrangement.

One evening towards the midnight hour I discovered the source of the flowers. After an hour of desperate pleadings with my neighbor while she leaned out the window and he beckoned from the courtyard lawn below, a handsomely-lanky man lamented of love and pleaded for forgiveness. The woman seemed momentarily flattered, but quickly lost interest and slammed the window shut. After shouting some vulgarities in a foreign language, the man left the courtyard with head hung low. An hour or so later, I found him placing flowers on the sill followed by some final pleas of love and adoration.

This went on for several months and one night with the courage of a few too many glasses of wine and a friend by my side, I yelled down to the man whose accent-heavy words echoed through the courtyard and asked him: "Don't you understand? She's just not that into you!"

He did not seem shocked by my presence and swiftly and earnestly replied: "But I love her."

Though I giggled at the oddness of this human contact, I also felt sad for the man who was so tortured. God knows I've been there myself. It's always so clear when you are the outsider looking in and saying: "move on already!", but the mind can be so tormented with regret and longing.

While your current story may not be as charmingly cinematic as that evening felt to me or as dramatic as it felt to the mystery man, it might contain particles of a quest to re-capture what once was. "Once was" can describe many things - some as obvious as an old flame, others as abstract as feelings of youthfulness or adventure.

Let us boldly make this year about loving what IS instead of what was - with forward movement that catapults us into new experiences and fresh perspectives - resulting in the courage to embrace each moment as if it were the best.

Avanti!

turn the page
write a new chapter
tell a new story

astonish yourself

Wishing you star-guided sailing in 2009!

Joyous New Year!

Tag from Modern Amusement.

I often talk/type at length as a way to make sense of things - to answer the whys and hows of life - to question the whys and hows of other people's behavior. Often over-analytical, this way of thinking/interacting is the reason I often hit mute during debates between CNN's panel of experts or half-time analysis of the football game my husband is watching. Sometimes I need a mute button for myself - to just breathe in the acceptance of a situation and the resulting grace of understanding and forgiveness (for self & others).

I would like to practice this in the New Year...will you join me?


Font: "Loved by the King" from Dafont.

How was your holiday weekend? I had a lovely time and quite enjoyed dressing the table while others dressed the turkey.

On Friday I was captivated by the CNN Hero Awards and deeply impressed by the philanthropic resumes of the honorees. My favorite Hero is Anne Mahlum (founder of Back On My Feet). Anne realized the symbolic significance of the forward movement of jogging and thought to extend that empowerment to homeless individuals living in her city. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could all share our passions and hobbies with others to help propel each other forward?

Watch Anne's story here and look for a repeat of the Hero Awards to air this weekend on CNN.

Use the holiday to check your gratitude.

And if you're scrambling to find an additional side for tomorrow's feast, check out Giada's Cornbread Panzanella Salad (everything in her Thanksgiving for Two episode is super yummy).

Font: "Just Me Again Down Here" from Dafont

Last night I walked through my old hood with a friend who I used to call my neighbor. She's a Cubs fan and pointed out the sign above at a bar as we walked through Wrigleyville. It's amazing to think that October is right around the corner and so is the day in which I will marry. It's a transitional time, that's for sure. Learning to live with someone, share space and remember not to take love for granted are quite the challenges. I've already found myself complaining and micro-managing more than I care to admit. So, when I was reading through my notes this morning on my el ride to work and came across the quote below, I was thankful for the practical reminder.

"Respect is love in plain clothes."
- Frankie Byrne

In an attempt to clear out the old and prepare for my move to N's place, we held a sidewalk sale this past Saturday. We spoke with so many interesting people as they stopped by to take a look at the goods.

The Guatemalan woman (now a US citizen) who stood beside her gentle father who was visiting from Guatemala. She told me how difficult it is to live so far from her father, especially as he ages and I nodded with understanding and told her of my own parents.

The sweet and shy neighbor who connected with a large piece of art that was by far my most expensive item for sale. She stared at it for some time, but was intimidated by the pricetag. Happily, her boyfriend came by later and secretly bought it for her birthday.

The kindergarten teacher who appreciated my love of butterflies and listened intently as I described their various defense mechanisms. I sent her off with a few educational books and photos and asked that she tell her class a few of the stories I shared.

The 82-year-old veteran who mentioned several times how good his life is and how lucky he is to be alive. He was so thankful for the company and conversation.

The butterfly enthusiast who wanted to purchase every winged item I had and sweetly waved as she biked away with the butterfly loot.

And the middle-class advocate who complained about the recent increase in Chicago's sales tax and made the argument that the history and beauty of Chicago is in the working class and therein lies its' strength.

I was pleasantly surprised that a public sale could be such a unique opportunity to connect with people. I am enchanted by the stories that people carry with them. As the day went on and my items started to clear out, I realized how much of my own stories are stored in things. The quartz rock candle that an ex gave me on a very special day of my youth. A framed shadowbox of butterfly species collected with my oldest brother. Beat-up hand-me-down chairs that were made special with the help of my Mom and designer fabric samples.

In letting go of these things, the stories remain and also travel on to other homes and other lives.

Although I don't consider myself a huge fan, I was very impressed by the depth conveyed by Alanis Morissette in a Chicago Social magazine interview. The article reported that after the explosion of fame in response to Jagged Little Pill, Morissette sought refuge on a six-week trip to India where she studied yoga, meditation and volunteered at Mother Teresa's orphanage. She wrote the song Thank You about her experience.

I listened again to the song today and it's a phenomenally powerful anthem. It's very Buddhist in nature - the idea of accepting all emotions - even if they are painful or uncomfortable. That they all serve a transformative purpose in our lives and can be doors, windows or bridges if we allow them to be.

This is the kind of song that deserves a private & fervid karaoke session in one's living room. Definitely beats a self-help book or therapy!

The song echoes the gorgeous advice of the 13th century mystic poet, Rumi:

"This being human is a guesthouse
Every morning a new arrival
A joy, a depression, a meanness
Some momentary awareness
Comes as an unexpected visitor

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows
Who violently sweep your house
Empty of its furniture
Still treat each guest honorably
He may be cleaning you out
For some new delight!

The dark thought, the shame, the malice
Meet them at the door laughing
And invite them in
Be grateful for whoever comes
Because each has been sent
As a guide from the beyond."

Saturday's Earth Hour reminded me to post a little something about repurposing. Lately I've been avoiding the purchase of wrapping paper, gift bags and boxes and trying to use things I have around my apartment instead. I purchased some Easter goodies for N and instead of buying an Easter basket and straw, I repurposed a Whole Foods shopping bag by cutting it down and decorating over the advertisements. It was a fun little project and one I'll repeat for upcoming birthdays.

Here in Chicago, Easter weekend was marked by melting snow. It snowed on Friday and then Saturday brought sunshine. As I was walking around my neighborhood listening to water droplets fall from branches to the sidewalk, I thought of how the snow surrenders to the sun and simply melts. Nature is gracious in its' yielding capacity. I would like to model that quality. Historically I have missed out on the joy of my life by over-analyzing and being hesitant to change or fearful of risk. I have decided that over the next six months (& hopefully for a long time thereafter), the motivating word for my life will be: SURRENDER.

This theme was reiterated to me this past Sunday as I watched the Darjeeling Limited. The film is odd and interesting and certainly not universally loved. But, there is a scene towards the end of the film that made the viewing worthwhile, in my opinion - a scene where the characters leave their baggage behind - literally. It's a beautiful scene that has stuck with me. We all have worry, doubt & anxiety that have accumulated over the years of our lives. What would it feel like to release some of that and be present to the newness of the moment? Grand indeed!

I am entranced by this photo of painters climbing freehand on the wires of the Brooklyn Bridge in October of 1914. The photo was taken by Eugene de Salignac, a municipal worker who was the official photographer for the Department of Bridges of the City of New York from 1906-1934. It wasn't his intention to create art, but to simply document the transformation of the city he lived and worked in. Something about this photo and Eugene's life makes me think of POSSIBILITY. Which leads me to ponder the question from Beat-poet, Jack Gilbert:

"Why do so many...settle for so little? I don't understand why they're not greedy for what's inside them."

It's easy to sit quietly in our lives and forget our aspirations. What we must do instead is be bold and pursue!

The Smithsonian article on Eugene de Salignac.

Love is many things. One of those things is TOUGH. And I don’t mean tough as nails - I mean tough as in hard work. Anything that you wish to thrive requires work – a meaningful career, a creative hobby, a beautiful garden, etc. Love is no different. It requires equal parts attention, effort, care and tenderness. And some days you feel too mad or confused or down to give much.

For those days, I find it particularly helpful to look at a picture of my boyfriend when he was a little kid. It helps me to remember his humanness and vulnerability. And to remember that he’s a person in his own right, independent of me or the relationship. He’s struggling with his own evolution & worries, just like I am.

And sometimes that is just the heart-tug I need to remember why I bother with love at all.

My little website has launched and what a happy occasion that was. I want to give proper acknowledgement to my parents who really have been aware of this dream for so very long and truly are Delicate Creatures #1 in my life.

My parents and I call ourselves The Three Musketeers. It’s not because I’m an only child, because I’m not. I have two amazing brothers, one of which did the programming for my website. Five years separate each of us, so after my brothers moved on from the household, it was just my parents and I. From that point on, it was usually the three of us on vacation together and sometimes it was only the three of us for holiday celebrations.

When I graduated from college and looked for my very first apartment on my own, it was my parents who helped me find it. They would often come over for dinner and bring the fixins in a little cooler because I was so penny-pinched back then and honestly, not much of a cook. When I loaded everything up in a moving van to set off from Denver to Chicago, I watched in the rear-view mirror as they disappeared in the distance – waving and fighting back tears. The first time my Mom visited me here, she carried heavy bags 12 blocks from the grocery to my home because I did not have a car. She helped me learn the public transportation system, which for "two gals from out West" was quite the comedy of errors. When my heart was broken (beyond repair, it seemed), it was the two of them that spent hours on the line with me through tears and loneliness. When I moved into my third apartment in the city, my parents flew out, went to IKEA with me and helped assemble much-needed furniture and shelving. And just this past December, while I was home for the holidays, my Dad spent a couple hours in the bitter cold helping me take photos for a business promotion.

I could go on and on and give you a million examples of how my parents have been there for me through my lifetime. They truly have been a daily source of strength and sunshine. Without their help and support, I wouldn’t have reached this dream. So, a very big thank you to Mom & Dad.

On a PROJECT note, something meaningful you can do to document your time with your parents is take a photo holding their hands. So if there ever is a day when you feel far from home, you can see the photo and be reminded of their presence. Just as with the eyes, there is so much in the hands, don’t you think?