handling hateful internet trolls with loving grace

(I am writing this blog post because I needed to read it today.  I searched around, reached out to some incredibly wise friends, but ultimately felt like I needed to write this down in order to work through it.)

First let me start off by stressing how supported and lifted up I feel by 99% of the people in my life.  There is just so much goodness, and it's overflowing daily, and that's what life is all about. I don't expect it, but when it comes, as it always does, I hope I receive it with grace.  THANK YOU to each and every one of you who took time to wish me well, light a candle, or send a loving message or text.

The reality is that every once in a while, a hateful internet troll pops up and rears their ugly head.  The saddest reality of it all that sometimes these are people that we consider loved ones---people we trust, people we care about.  This is when it hurts the most, and feels like the lowest kind of blow.  When people question your integrity, your family ideals, and point judgey-troll fingers at you and the ones you love----the first instinct is to retaliate.  Actually, my first reaction is to jump off the internet forever, and hide my family, and live in a cave filled with Reese's peanut butter cups.  But then they win.

Every single one of us out there, if we're human, can think of one these types of people.  The type who suck us dry, who drain our joy. The type who falsely accuse, the type that drama always follows.  One of the hard parts of being human means that we have to deal with these people, whether we like it or not. 

Last night I sat in church, listening to the priest talk about the pain in our life (whether it be an illness, a difficult situation, or a hateful troll----my words, not his) that ultimately equals our crosses to bear. He explained that pain isn't something that we should hide from or try to dull with drugs or alcohol. Pain exists to teach us something--- and bring us closer to our essence, and the goodness in other people.  I'm choosing to believe this.  I'm choosing to continue to do me, without apology or explanation.  I will continue to look for the good in people, and not hide or keep secret what is not shameful.  I'm choosing to connect, and not disassociate. 

I hope these words help someone feel less alone.  Especially if they have their own troll trying to bring them down.  You aren't alone.  This world is a big place, filled with trolls and angels.  Be a magnet for what you need.  And try your best not to run away to a hole filled with Halloween candy.  We all need you to do you. 

(*If you have any words of wisdom to share on this topic, I'd love to hear them!  Please comment here or reach out to me privately.  And if you are my own private troll, please feel free to keep your comments to yourself and go eat some candy xo)

the beautiful beginnings

Things are more mellow now that some weeks have passed.  There have been lots of appointments, for John and for myself.  Lots of games to get the kids to, parties to attend.  The usual hustle-and-bustle of life.  And while if given the choice of never having John deal with pulmonary emboli, I would take it in a heartbeat, the truth is that we are all really loving having him home.  Not only do we have real weekends together, but he's home at night to help with homework and bedtime and hockey practices! Now that he's home I honestly don't know how I ever did it all without him.

We're all in good spirits.  We're moving into our favorite season, the time when we make a whole bunch of kettle corn and sit in from on the TV and watch a movie together when the sun sets.  The time when we crowd around the fire.  As we move into November, we start to prepare to host Thanksgiving, our most special time.  And John will be with us, healthy and whole.  There are certainly so many things to give thanks for this year.

Tomorrow is the day we find out if the second embryo transfer took.  I've been taking it slow(er) these past two weeks, eating Halloween candy and reading some incredible books.  It's such an honor to be doing this beautiful thing---and even though the uncertainty and fear can creep up here and there, I'm trying to stay centered and focus on the gift that this experience is.  I'm learning so much about myself, even this second time around.  Tomorrow morning I will leave my house at 5am, and watch the sunrise as I drive in to the city.  A nurse will take the blood from my vein and call us later in the day and tell me if there is a child growing in me, a child belonging to people that want this more than anything.  I have such a good feeling.  Today, I light a candle, and sit in ceremony, reflecting.  I'll gather with friends for an Indian lunch.  I'll go thrifting.  I'll go to a parent-teacher conference.  But through it all, I'll hold this feeling close---this unknowing, this beautiful jumping-off-the-edge feeling that starts it all. 

*the struggle got realer*

Just when I thought I was in the trenches of real struggle in my last blog post, the struggle got so much realer, with no notice or warning.  Life has a funny way like that...just when we think we're comfortable and settling in, poof, it's flipped, and we need to find a new way of being.

Without getting into too much detail, things got real real when my husband found out that he had multiple pulmonary emboli.  You know, those little blood clots usually travel up from the legs and kill people?  Yeah, those.  Multiple of those. The good news is that he caught them in time to be put on blood thinners, and oh yeah, he's alive!  But everything else is very uncertain and raw.  Right now we're loving the fact that we're together as a family, still able to make memories and live every day to the fullest.  Almost losing someone you love has a way of putting everything into perspective.  But it's still a test.  A challenge.  These past couple of months have been filled with them, which is new for us.  We've been so lucky in our lives, never dealing with much struggle. Lately we've been tested on both personal and family levels.  But at least we can experience it, and experience it together.

I've been pulling crystals for myself and putting them in my pocket for the day.  I pull whatever feels energetically right.  I don't worry too much about their meanings, it's just a feeling.  This week citrine and rose quartz have been on heavy rotation.  Citrine absorbs, dissipates, and grounds negative energy and is a very protective stone.  It helps cleanse the chakras and creates balance.  Rose quartz is the stone of unconditional love and deep inner healing and self-love.  Used together, I feel like they might just be the powerhouse of love.  We could all use a little bit of that, don't you think? 

*trust in the stuggle*

 

 

I'm deep in the trenches of some beautiful and difficult life lessons. Mostly about the giving up of control, the surrendering.  Trusting in the struggle.  Every time I pull a tarot card for myself, there is it, this message staring right back at me----hold the course and all will be made clear with time. It's the time part that's hard--sometimes I want the answers, and I want it all to be revealed now.  Like now now. 

It's the waiting that's the struggle for me.

Is it hard for you, too?

I'm also learning things about the different ways that people show up for us in our lives.  Sometimes I'm blown away from the kindness of people----a surprise delivery of homemade blueberry muffins when I'm having a particularly weepy day.  The offer to take one of my kids who's driving me insane.  I could go on and on.  But the flipside of this beauty are the feelings of loneliness and abandonment by others in my life.  There are some roads that we must travel alone.  Sometimes the only true person that can show up for us is ourselves.  There is a deep kind of beauty in this lesson, too.  I'm trying to be patient with myself as I learn more about how I show up for others, and how others show up for me.

In the meantime, we've been finishing up the summer with lots of beach time.  Watching my children learn news skills, and keep trying.  Watching them struggle and fail and sometimes succeed.  (Surfing and skim boarding are so incredible to watch!)   My children are little parts of me walking around, teaching me.  Now that they are back to school, I'm missing them, but also trying to cherish the rare moments that we are all together.  I look forward to the lessons they have to teach me as we move forward into the Fall.

summer love

(this gorgeous heart-shaped crystal was gifted to me by Grace's bestie for my anniversary---it's so special and I'll treasure it forever!)

Summer is hands-down my most favorite season.  For us, it is a time to have long, slow days at home, doing nothing much except sharing meals together, reading, and playing video games.  The occasional dip in the pool.  Popsicles for dessert.  Sand all over the floors and wet towels strewn about the house.  It's time on the hockey ice, and time on the softball field.  It's time in the garden and time sipping iced coffees on the deck.  It's cocktails at 2pm and laying down in the AC for early bedtimes.  It's sticky, it's sweaty, it's bickering all day long.  It's dog-eared pages in books and day trips with friends.  It's you take my kids today, and then I'll take yours.  It's please stop over and eat Cheeze-Its with us on the back deck while we get eaten alive by mosquitoes.  It's piles of treasures from the beach and chocolate melting in the sun.  Grocery bills that are through the roof because we keep gathering with friends.  It's feeling like every day together is a good enough reason to celebrate.  It's about feeling good in our skins while we lounge around half-dressed.  It's feet that need pedicures, it's dirty heels and rough edges.  It's pick-up-pizza nights and eat-on-the-fly nights.  It's long days on the beach and never wanting it all to end.  It's dusty, grubby, and beautiful. 

Some people count the days until the kids go back to school but I try to savor each moment (and trust me, lots of them are really annoying moments that make me want to lock myself in my room with a good book) while I have my kids home with me.  August marks the beginning of our true vacation and I can't wait to embrace the true beach bum that I am!

Here's to summer!  xoxo 

14 years and counting

This past week Johnny and I celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary.  If you asked me when our actual wedding date is, I would say something like "Ummm, I think it's June 28th.  Or it's the 30th.  Wait...how many days are there in June?  Because maybe it's the 31st."  Even as I sit here writing this, I honestly cannot remember the date.  But the date matters less and less as time goes by.  The older we get, the prouder I am of our good solid foundation.  I try not to take it for granted.  Relationships between our friends are crumbling around us.  It's no secret that marriage, or long-term partnerships, are hard.  Like living in the trenches, tear-your-heart-out hard.  So the fact that we are still going strong after all these years...I'll celebrate.  You know, on the 28th.  Or the 30th.  Or somewhere in between.

John and I got married when we were young.  Now, with a preteen at home, it's kind of insane to me when I think that we got engaged in college and then married when we were 22.  We dated way back when----when we were Gray's age...middle school!  And yes, we have the notes to prove it.  (And yes, we've probably shown them to you while we drank cocktails together on our back deck. Sorry for that.)  The picture you see above is our only wedding photo.  Which is why it is so special to me...I would literally grab it off the wall if I had to run out of my house if it was on fire.  John made this photo for me illegally and surprised me with it on one of our anniversaries. (If we were on my deck having more cocktails, I would tell you the story about why we only have one wedding photo, which involves a sad tale about paying a photographer in full, the photographer coming and shooting the wedding, and then that photographer claiming bankruptcy and then running off with everyone's wedding photos.  But I'll spare you!)  The picture captures the essence of us perfectly---and yes, I had cornrows in my hair for my wedding, thank you very much.

I am truly grateful that I enjoy spending time with my husband.  We like each other!  I joke with my friends that we have such a good marriage because we don't get to spend a lot of time together.  (And lots of people in town joke with me that John doesn't even actually exist---he's like Sasquatch!)  When we first got married, he was in the Army and left for Kosovo for ten months.  Then it was various trainings and camps and moves here and there.  And of course I was traveling and doing my own things as well.  Now he's travelling multiple days a week and again, I've always got my own adventures that pull me away from home.  With the kids getting older, we often find ourselves splitting our time between various sporting events and other commitments.  Our time together is precious, so when we get it, we try not to squander it.  Which doesn't mean that sometimes we just crash into bed at 9pm and both look at our phones until we pass out.  There are plenty of times when we just don't have anything left to give each other.  But the key to our success is that we still just love to be around each other.  And we try not to bitch about one another, to ourselves or anyone else. We aren't perfect...far from it.  But we love.  Because love is where it's at.  xo

bear spirit and squam magic

This was the first year I attended Squam as an official part of the event management team, and let me tell you, it did not disappoint.  Being away from my day to day work and home life for eight consecutive days with little to almost no phone coverage was a challenge in and of itself, but the week flew by and was filled with lots of work, but also lots of time for soul connections and fun.  I actually partied so hard and binged on an unlimited amount of cookies and various other delicacies that I came home over three pounds heavier, happy as a clam, and in need of some major cave-time.

What I loved most about my role in behind-the-scenes Squam was being able to witness the magic from another angle.  Instead of being immersed in the magic when we arrived, we got to create it.  It felt like an incredibly special gift to be able to create "that Squam experience" for people on a blank (albeit beautiful) canvas.  While we were setting up for the first couple of days, there were many times when we paused and thought "Oh, this would be an awesome spot to set up something special so people can take pictures" or "These chairs should be closer to the fire because it's going to be cold tonight", etc.  That part was my bread and butter.  I loved watching it all unfold when people arrived.  Friendships were made, hearts cracked open, and women became vulnerable.  It just never gets old.

After work there was definitely some wine to be had, and stories to be told around the fire.  I spent some time with two decks of cards, tarot and animal medicine.  My friend and new partner-in-crime brought an animal medicine deck of cards and I felt the pull so strongly to choose a card.  A message needed to come through.  I pulled bear on the docks under the bright sun, and it was perfect.  Bear. 

Bear symbolizes strength and confidence, and leadership.  Bear spirit also signifies healing---both the healing of oneself, and using healing powers to help others.  Bear represents hunkering down, but also emergence after cave time.  Bear is there when strength is needed during times of challenge and difficulty.  Bear symbolizes the immense power of inner strength.

Bear is calling to me, and I'm answering it's call.  This Squam was a huge turning point for me, a real stepping into my power.  I love how Bear encompasses a lot of dualities----being an empath and an extroverted introvert, I get it.  I get the social time, needing to commune, and then I get the cave time, the needing to listen to my own voice.  Bear spirit speaks to me.  Squam speaks to me because it honors both sides of me.

I can't wait to see what type of magic Fall Squam brings.  xo

on tuning in, and tuning out

These past few months have been so filled with all the good stuff----parties, people, connecting, art, messes, sleepovers, dinners, dates, drinks.  The closer I get to the big 4-0, the more I crave spending time doing things that I love to do, with the people that I love to do them the most with.  John and I have officially found our favorite local hangout spot, and we try to sneak out as much as possible for real life adult dates!  It's addicting.  You know...because we can actually talk, without someone farting on us or filming their own makeup tutorial or fighting over homework or...

So pretty much the best thing ever.

The older I get, the more I literally c.r.a.v.e. listening to people's stories.  I'm that annoying person leaning on the counter at the tire shop, listening to the guy pour his guts out to me about his life story.  I try to order a coffee and the next thing I know I'm hugging people and taking numbers.  I could sit for hours and hear about why people are the way they are and why they've ended up where they are (as long as it's not past my bedtime.  And in that case, shhhhhhhhhhhh....).  I mean it though, if you've got a story to tell, come to me.  Sit down and tell it, because I'm all ears. 

In other news, gone are the days that I give a rats-ass about what people are thinking of me.  I've stopped reaching out for people's approval of my choices.  I'm all about hearing people talk, unless they're waxing poetic about why I should rethink something I've chosen to do.  It's absolutely liberating, because now there are no limits.  2015 has some big surprises on the horizon, some incredible things that I certainly wouldn't be doing if I were seeking outside approval.  There are tiny little tough moments of wondering what others will think, but I try my best to take a deep breath and let it wash over me.  Stay tuned for more on this!

I'm simultaneously tuning in, and tuning out!

++++

Now we're moving into heavy softball season.  All three kids are playing sports now---Lu's in teeball, Joey's playing spring and summer hockey, and Gray is on two softball teams.  Being a working mom who's mostly a stay-at-home mom while my husband
travels, and getting everyone where they need to be is a challenge.  Luckily I've got the best support team in town and there is always someone willing to help me split myself into three places at once.  Shout out to all my friends who save my butt on the daily!

As we finally are able to enjoy the spring weather, I'm getting ready to leave for Squam for eight days.  This will be the longest time I'll be away from the kids, as well as the longest time I've ever been at Squam.  I'm blessed to be able to be on the team this year because I believe so deeply in the beauty that is Squam Art Workshops.  I get to work (with a bit of play), doing something I love!  I long for the hustle and bustle of getting everyone settled, setting up the parties, pumping the kegs, and making the magic happen.  John and my parents will be holding down the fort while I'm gone.  All will be as it should.  All will be well.  (I keep repeating this in my head to make myself feel better). 

Off to go make a big pile of tulle into something lovely and magical!  Then headed away for the night to paint and make jewelry with friends.  It's a charmed life, I tell you.  Tell me what you've got cooking up... xoxo

vitiligo and reclaiming my leg

I've learned one thing lately----and it's DON'T ask people about their opinions about tattoos before you get them.  Don't ask them IF you should get one, don't ask them about placement, don't ask them if they like the design, if they think you'll regret it.  Just make the damn appointment and get the damn tattoo, already (that is of course, if you're into it)!  *With that being said, Auntie Nicole, I appreciate your opinions about the skull tattoos very much :) 

So, with that being said, I'm in the process of reclaiming my leg.  Ever since I was born I've had vitiligo, a skin condition that results in the absence of pigment, from my hip to my ankle on my right leg.  It's not severe, but it looks mottled and uneven, and when I jump in the ocean or get cold, the whiteness becomes super-white and the rest turns dark purple.  It shows up in pictures, and it's always been a part of me.  Coupled with some insane bow-leggedness, I've got some funky ass legs.  I can't say that I have a lot of baggage about it, but recently I started thinking about working on a "half-sleeve" on one of my thighs.  And in my head, I immediately thought, "Well, guess I only have one leg to work with...gotta go with my left".  But the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.  Why discount a whole part of my body just because it wasn't "perfect"?  So almost on a whim (I did so some research first, I'm not that cray cray), I made a tattoo appointment, and sat my butt down and got my vitiligoed-right-leg tattooed.  I decided to reclaim it.  It's mine, it's beautiful, it's the way that I am.  And it's going to look even more awesome covered in really beautiful things that I like.  The end.

The coolest part of my first leg tattoo experience was when I told my tattoo artist about it.  And he shared a story about vitiligo and how he thinks that the white spots are beautiful.  It's his story to tell so I won't share it here, but it solidified my decision that I was on the right path.  The white spots are beautiful.  So are the dark ones.  And the spaces in between are ours to fill up the way we want.  We talked about not waiting and not worrying, not asking for permission or wondering what other people think.   I felt simultaneously really really old, and like I was just beginning something amazing.

Tattoos or no-tattoos, the lesson here is simple-----you want to do something, do it.  Nobody is going to make it happen for you.  You don't like something about yourself?  Reframe it, flip it, look at it a different way.  Color it beautiful and make it yours.  xoxo

farting in yoga

2015 is here, a new year and a fresh start.  I love the possibilities that a new year presents---12 months to pack with adventures, new experiences, mistakes, learning opportunities, and growth.  I won't set a word or intention for this year---I'm just going to try to be flexible to whatever comes my way, both the good and the bad.  We'll see how that goes.

In the meantime, here's what I'd like to discuss-----yoga.  And more specifically, farting in yoga.  Why is nobody talking about farting in yoga class?  I love yoga and I've been enjoying taking all different types of classes in the area.  But I have to be honest here----I spend seriously like 95% of class thinking about farting, obsessing about it actually.  How come nobody is farting or talking about it or obsessing about it like me?  I am fully aware that this is counterintuitive to the whole yoga thing!      It's hard to get in the zone and be present with rumbles in the jungle.

I say farting, but I think my friend describes it better when she refers to it as "air leaving the body".  It's more all-encompassing that way.

And even though nobody is obsessing about it, I like to continually bring it up to my friends and pretty much force them to talk about it.  Basically I just want them to admit that it's a real and true issue for them, too.  After birthing five babies, it's an issue that's real and present for me.  I want it to be real for other people, too.

Google it, people!  I did.  It's a real problem.

So you know what?  I will have a resolution this year.  It's not to worry about farting in yoga.  I will do my three-legged dog and see what comes my way.  I will do inversions and plow and not give one care.  And I will continually force everyone and anyone to talk about bodily functions with me, making me feel better. ;)

And if you're offended by this blog post, I'm sorry, but I'm too busy farting in yoga to care.

xo

Growing old and the great invisibility cloak

2014 was pretty much the best year ever for me.  I learned to take things in stride, to stress less, to welcome scary things (like the good kind of scary things) into my life.  I learned to stretch and grow and do all that awesome stuff that you promise yourself you'll do at the beginning of a new year.  I made a lot of milk, I had surgery on my ass, I gained a ton of weight, and recently lost a ton of weight.  I went on dates with my friends and rented a beach cottage and went on retreats and started taking yoga and spent time with my kids and read a lot of books.  And I learned the biggest lesson of all...

the older I get, the braver I get...and I am able to do so because I am becoming more and more invisible. 

Maybe 'invisible' isn't the best word for what I'm talking about.  I just find that lately I can pretty much do whatever I want, wear whatever crazy-ass gypsy outfit I dream up, and nobody cares.  I can try new things or fail or succeed or stay in bed all day long and it doesn't matter. Maybe the secret is nobody ever cared and my fear just tricked me into thinking they did.  Maybe people still care and I just don't give a shit.

Maybe the teenagers at the grocery store call me "Ma'am" and offer to load my truck up with groceries, and we all know damn well that that means I am officially getting old.

Whatever it is, it's awesome!  Like really life-changing awesome.  People don't notice me, and if they do, I don't notice or give one crap if they do!  I am free from the fear of other people judging me. 

For 2015, if I want to try it, I will!  If I want to take a siesta and do face masks and watch Girlfriend's Guide to Divorce all day I will.  If I want to wear stretch pants out in public and pretend they are real pants and, oh yeah, I'm wearing my slippers, too, then BONUS.  I'm feeling it.  I'm getting old and I'm wrapping myself up in this rad invisibility cloak and I'm going to do

WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT.

*The End*