My summer officially starts tomorrow with the lighting of our Solstice fire. I like to think I align like that, all celestial and heavenly, but even if it’s total coincidence, I’m claiming the divine timing. Regardless of when my summer or yours starts, it is certainly time to exhale, stroll around the yard, peer into the blooms, discover what is needed to remember yourself as a creative, healthy, strong adventurous being. How about your summer goals? How do you plan to connect to you? Continue reading
This day, when our seniors cross the stage to receive their diploma, always causes me to reflect on the meaning of Graduation. Meaning that I find monumental and liberating but also frightening and paralyzing. I watch with a degree of envy as the Class of 2019 steps out of the solid world they have known forever to embrace all the newness of tomorrow. From time to time I consider my own ‘graduation’, although a few years off, certainly on the horizon. I wonder, how will I step forward? How will I face inevitable challenges and happy surprises? All the unforeseen and unplanned despite my best calculations? I watch each high school senior mount the stage, study the surety in their stride, follow their upward gaze, listen as they cheer each other on, and wonder, can I emulate their optimistic adventuring spirit? Can I be that audacious? Smile at each dawn?
Still a summer sky, a true blue blue overhead but my days now start with an alarm ringing and me dragging toward that brief yoga mat and then work work work although the afternoons are still that sky and that sunshine and I melt back to July when I called all the shots from dawn to dusk.
Now sneakers on by four and out the door across the field and around the bend to nothing but corn growing toward the horizon and me feeling free and light. Can you beat that?
I’d say I’m one of the lucky ones. I promise to start thinking about blogging again, writing again, scheduling time for that, soon… Until then, happy late August days, for now, go run it, xxoo
This week especially, maybe because of the full moon or who the heck knows, there’s been a divisive air in the air. People have been out to get someone. Even people who normally bat for your team, now are eyeing you sideways, judging your every move. I’ve done my best to ignore these astrological blasts in the past, but the last few days, wow, it’s stretched my good nature. Tonight, instead of crawling deep into fetal, we decided to blast the other direction, head to game night.
“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.”– Harriet Tubman
These inspirational quips are easy to find as they roll along our feed like waves, but can easily hit the wall of our own stupid shit. I mean, do we honestly believe we can live out our dreams? Sure chosen folk like Oprah and Kobe seem to, and possibly my mother did, but what about you, or me? Can we push away doubt? Acquire a room of one’s own where we dare those dreams into action? I’ve known plenty of people with talent and possibility who crashed right into a waterfall of negative behaviors and let their own potential rush away. Maybe it’s the demons in their head, maybe it’s just their crap circumstances, regardless, they let their internal passions subside to a trickle. They put down the paint brush. They stop dancing. They quit imagining and believe something less about themselves, something more tragic. They’ve heard the sad tale so long they write one of their own.
What do you believe about yourself? Can you just pretend for one sunny moment that you are all that you envision you are? That the job you do is one that utilizes your full creative potential? That your future is in your own hands? Quite a mission if we feel tossed from day to day. But here’s the thing: why not choose to believe in the best outcome? I mean, seriously, what do you have to lose? Life is spinning by fast and then faster, so why not harness that rotation into your own glowing projection on this earth?
I know what you are up against. Whispers of “women can’t write, women can’t paint” have been heard even before Woolf penned those words in 1927. But even timid Lily defied that sentiment, right? Regardless of gender or age we can get trapped by societal misconceptions, from being the fat one or the stupid one or the talent-less one or just plain lazy and unlucky, we play out those limiting roles. Instead, how about we stand up to our own self-doubt as magnificently as Lily does in To the Lighthouse? “Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision.”
Flying away from the City of Angels is never easy for me. My children live down there. And, besides the strings knotted between us, the city is built on dreams. Uber drivers write good screenplays. Waitresses are ready to hit the airwaves. Surfers design apps to cure loneliness. Seems everyone in Los Angeles is joined in believing in a vision beyond their current limitations. Over time, West Coast magic can break even hardened East Coast Northerns. Truly. Beyond Hollywood, there are garage bands making harmony and coffee shop plot lines and glittery dreams aplenty crisscrossing freeways. Even with Trump’s fatalistic fire and fury, one can reach for the stars here, believe in a better tomorrow, and let his improvisational rhetoric fall flat below. Maybe it’s the sunshine and palm trees, maybe it’s just a collective Los Angeles agreement that everyone should have the chance to change their world.
How about just for today you suspend your cynicism? The desperate voice in your chatter? Imagine something grander for your tomorrow. Be willing to turn off despair. Count your blessings. Start speaking out loud what you hold locked within. Believe we each have the ability to transform our dreams into reality if we follow our joy. Put that in your mind. Remember when all seems impossible. Joy. Latch onto that with me and together let’s dance right into a better world.
We’ve just turned another page in the calendar and suddenly it’s August! In most places a solid stretch of hot and sunny highlights but printed right at the top of the next page we can spy Labor Day, staring us down, directing us to hence forth pack away the beach gear and white pants and halt the impromptu deck parties. Wait, you say? Haven’t even really got your summer on yet? It’s time people. Seriously, winter is coming… in every way. Best advice? Fill up your every available second with fun-shine and play-dates and recharge that battery! First stop? Head to your local farmer’s market and get a pile of organic local fruit and spend a dreamy morning eating clean and light. Nothing says summer like a ripe peach, right? Find one today to share, or not. And the rest of the day will be heavenly.
Last week I checked off my last have-to on my to-do list. Last, for now. During the other 11 months there is almost always a frantic side to me. A rushing. An inability to breathe deeply. Racing from bed to shower to work to workout to errands and chores and stuff to more work to finally bed for months on end. Doesn’t most everyone live such a manic pace? But this week, this July first Monday morning came and drifted into afternoon then into dusky evening, and besides lacing my sneakers for a hilly hot mid-day run, deliciously meandering, I did nothing that felt like a job. Just flitted from one spot to another following sunbeams like a roadside daisy. By evening my lungs were tired from use. Oh July, you are a glorious celebratory month of lazy hazy daydreams.