Friday, March 10, 2017

5 Ways Sarah Ban Breathnach's "Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy" Changed My Life

In 1997, at the ripe old age of 27, I thought my life was awful.

I was broke and in debt. I had five mid-range digits of debt that included many thousands in student loans plus the credit card debt racked up because I had to take a job making $5 an hour plus commission (that I never earned) for 18 months while I was between "real" jobs. I finally had a "real" job that I loved but I had just gotten a new boss and she was hateful. I had moved into a house with my then boyfriend, now husband, but our relationship was a mess. We had just been through some ish and I wasn't sure what was going to happen to us. The lovely cherry on top was that my mother had stopped speaking to me the year before because I asked her to tell me who my dad was. She wouldn't speak to me again for four years. So, you could say that life wasn't great. And despite a history of having some sort of internal ballast that let me get right whenever I was buffeted by life, this time, I was being pulled under and I didn't know how to stop it.

Then one day, I walked into work at the headquarters of Rich's Department Stores (now Macy's) where I worked as a copywriter in the advertising department, and was surprised to see a good old-fashioned Scholastic Book Fair in the lobby. And on the table facing the door where I couldn't miss it, was a pretty little pink book. It jumped right out at me as if rays from Heaven were shining down upon it: Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy. 

I came back on my lunch hour to check it out. I was a little uncertain about spending the money, but after flipping through the book, I really felt like it was something I needed. Comfort and Joy? I hadn't felt either of those in a while. Sign. Me. Up.

So, I bought the book, and I started reading. One day at a time, beginning on the date I bought the book. Taking 20-30 quiet moments of solitude each morning, just me with my cat curled in my lap, reading. In fact, although I'm about to tell you the five greatest take-aways of this book for me and my life, there was actually one overaching lesson bigger than those: let yourself be still.

In my twenties, I thought stillness meant laziness and a lack of ambition. I was the kind of person who went to work with a 103 degree fever and the flu thinking my bosses would notice my work ethic and reward it. Instead, they just asked for more and more and more. So, simply by starting my day with a pause to read and breathe and take a moment for myself was one of the biggest and most important lessons I ever could have learned. Unfortunately, I've had to re-learn it many times, but I think finally, over the last decade, it has sunk in. Beyond that core lesson, Simple Abundance changed my life with the following lessons.

1. Gratitude is Everything
One of the stories that really stuck with me was of the author being upset over some minor tragedy in her own life and encountering an acquaintance whose husband had abandoned her after she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The take-away? No matter how bad your life is, someone wishes it were hers. Feeling sorry for yourself and dwelling on all the things you wish were different about your life isn't going to change those things. It's just going to make you feel worse and the worse you feel, less likely it is you will act to change those things. Ultimately, you create a vicious cycle that leaves you depressed, angry, and bitter. On the other hand, feeling grateful for even the smallest things in your life raises your vibration and can change your life.


Maybe that's counterintuitive, but there's actual scientific research to back this up. Feeling and expressing gratitude, when it becomes a habit, changes the way you think, feel, and react to the world. Gratitude can lessen the effects of depression. It can make you feel more energetic and show greater determination. When I started keeping a gratitude journal, I was so sad and empty that I struggled to know what to write. At first, I could only count the most basic things: shelter, food, my pets, my boyfriend, a car that ran most of the time, my friends, having a job even if I didn't love it. Over time, I found my lists growing and with them, my hope that my life could become something better. Within a year, I found a new job that I loved; I was engaged; I traveled for my new job; I felt healthier; and yes, happier. I began to shed the bitterness and anger I held toward my mother for abandoning me and was able to reconnect with her six months before she died of heart failure. As the author quotes, "Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow."

2. You Can Let the Past Go
As I mentioned above, when I started reading Simple Abundance, I was consumed with hurt and anger over my mom's treatment of me. Hindsight, maturity, and knowledge gave me a clarity I didn't possess back then. And my willingness to let go and forgive did not happen overnight. In fact, I still have days – mostly when I'm PMSing or hurting for some other reason – where I get lost in the Land of What If. Still, there was something freeing in these words, "Realize the past no longer holds you captive. It can only continue to hurt you if you hold on to it." Over time, and with the help of some great therapists and loving friends, I realized that my mother very likely suffered Narcissistic Personality Disorder which helped me better understand her inability to ever consider my needs ahead of her own. And by choosing not to dwell on the past, that anger slowly dissipated. Now, I rarely think about how I missed out by not having a dad or feel anger toward my mother for creating that situation and if I do, I might feel a passing twinge of sadness, but the burning rage I once felt exists no more. Now there's room to focus on all the beauty and goodness in my life, including my loving husband and two beautiful sons and the amazing futures that lie ahead for all of us. 

3. Stop Waiting for Life to Be Perfect
In my twenties, I perpetually had this notion of "I'll be happy when _______." When I land the perfect job; when I make $30,000 a year; when I fall in love; when I get married; when I have kids; when I join the Junior League; when I lose 20 lbs. When...

It saddens me to think about the wasted time. Time I could have spent really being in the moment and enjoying Life. Now, I'm not saying I was a miserable wretch then. I wasn't. I had many happy times with my friends. But I spent very little time actively thinking about how to make myself happy. I'm not even sure I knew it was possible to make myself happy then. I was so focused on looking for some external factor that was going to make it all right...the bigger paycheck, the better job, the boyfriend, the weight loss. But even as those things came into my life, there was still this longing. And so many opportunities for adventure or fun or feeling free just slipped by me because I didn't feel ready for them or deserving of them. 

The moral of this lesson is don't wait to do the things that matter to you. Want to go to London? Max out that credit card and do it. You'll figure out how to pay it off. And, you'll have more fun going alone or with a girlfriend than that guy you were waiting on anyway. Want to wear a two-piece to the pool this summer? Go for it! You'll never be comfortable in your own skin until you risk something. Besides, everyone else is so busy with their own insecurities, they're not looking at you! Think you'll never have time for yourself until your kids are grown? Nope. Just stop, right there, and remember that unhappiness hardens into bitterness. You deserve better. Feeling sad, lonely, and defeated and waiting for the "thing" that is going to change your life? Stop waiting, Sweetheart! All you need to be happy is inside of you. You can do this. Trust me. Your time is now. Remember, "We can stop waiting for life to be perfect, and start working with what we have now to make it as satisfying as we can.... Today we can begin to call forth the riches from our everyday life. Today we can move from lack to abundance."

4. Self-Care
The art of self-care is one I'm still mastering. I'm getting better. This blog is one example of that. Writing is my heart. And it's an act I mislaid some time ago in the hustle-bustle of daily life. Coming back to it with passion and intent the last couple of weeks has felt like coming home. In fact, the last few months have been a revelation in regard to self-care for me, even though the seeds were first planted nearly twenty years ago when I first read Simple Abundance. Back then, I didn't know anything about taking care of my soul or spirit and barely managed to take care of my body. At times, I didn't, working 12-20 hour days depending on the season, drinking to excess, thinking rest was for the weak and powering through made me special. 

I rarely said "no" to any request or favor asked of me because I thought I had to say "yes," in order to be liked and that it would somehow win me the love and appreciation I so desperately sought, especially at work. I was over 35 before I gave myself permission to tell someone "no." Only after facing the worst health crisis of my life that left me physically wrecked when my son was three months old did I realize, fully, that I had to stop letting my needs come after everyone else's. And that it's okay to ask for help. At that point, I started getting regular exercise, sleeping more, and paying more attention to my appearance because it made me feel better about myself. I started paying attention to what I enjoyed. I learned to take a break when I was sick instead of pushing through the illness until my body collapsed. I recognized when my depression was not getting any better and didn't beat myself up for choosing to take an antidepressant.

These days, because I've learned to incorporate self-care into my life, those needs aren't nearly so extreme. I try to get some exercise daily. I'm writing. I try to find something to laugh at daily. I'm cooking with feeling and passion again which I will speak more about in a minute. I take time to get my hair cut and colored when I feel like it. When I need to and can, I let my mind and body just escape from it all with a good nap. I choose to eat a healthy diet, free of sugar, and I use all-natural essential oils and supplements to support my physical, mental, and spiritual needs. 

It's not easy, and it may feel selfish at first, to put yourself first. Start small. When it feels like the world is closing in and you feel overwhelmed by work, your partner's needs, the demands of raising a family, remember that you're no good to them if you're stressed, hurting, sick, and worn out. Start with a quiet moment. Sarah Ban Breathnach writes, "There is no companion as companionable as Solitude," Thoreau tells me as I carry a hot cup of tea back to bed. 



Find 15 minutes before the rest of the family is up or before you start your morning routine just to have some time alone and breathe or stretch. Start small and add the self-care regimens that make you feel wonderful. You won't regret it and your life will become richer for it.

5. Any Act Can Be a Form of Prayer
Now, if you're not religious, don't panic. I get it. I'm Catholic and I get squirmy with too much religiosity. Replace the word prayer with meditation, contemplation, reflection, presence (as in being present). What I'm really talking about and what SBB was getting at is the concept of mindfulness. Mindfulness leads to gratitude and gratitude to joy and peace. But, you have to start by being present. So, how do you do that? Well, you try to get out of your head (as hard as that is for some of us) and focus on whatever you're doing at the moment. Yes, even if it is something you don't necessarily enjoy. As you're doing laundry, let yourself really feel the different textures of fabric passing through your hands. Enjoy the colors. Remember how confident you felt in certain clothes or feel love for the family member whose shirt you hold in your hands. Be grateful for the technology and privilege that enable you to do laundry in your home. 

When you're cooking dinner, take time to see the vibrant colors of the vegetables. Listen to the different sounds they make when you slice them and enjoy the aromas of each item as you prepare it. Instead of thinking about the tax bill or the kids' soccer game or the work you have to finish once the kids are in bed or that fight you had with your sister, really just stop and be present and aware of what you are doing. Mentally (or aloud) say thank you to the farmers who grew the food, the workers who picked the vegetables, truck drivers and warehouse employees and grocers who helped get the food to your kitchen. Feel love for the people who will eat the meal you prepare, even if it's just yourself. 


Taking these seemingly simple and inconsequential acts will make a tremendous difference in your life. You will find yourself slowing down and appreciating the world around you even more. You will find yourself feeling ever more grateful for the simplest blessings. And in turn, your sense of peace and joy will grow exponentially. You will become more connected to the world around you. 

I've recently re-visited this concept in an effort to reconnect with the joy that I felt had escaped me since moving. Now, instead of feeling lonely on the nights my husband is out for work or hanging out with the friends he made here, I prepare a meal for my kids, then I cook something delicious and fabulous for myself that I know my kids or husband would not enjoy. I put on music that I love – lately that's been Sarah Vaughn, Billie Holiday, or Nina Simone – pour myself some wine, and indulge my senses in the ingredients at hand. I have had some lovely, lovely evenings in the kitchen lately after feeling completely disconnected to the point of really disliking cooking. It had become such a rote chore that I did for people who didn't appreciate it and more often than not would complain about what I made for them. By fully re-engaging with a craft I love on my terms, and doing for no other reason than to enjoy the process of it and be fully present to it, I found a spot of happiness that radiates far beyond the hour I spend in the kitchen. 

In Simple Abundance, Sarah Ban Breathnach quotes St. Francis of Assisi, saying, "The woman who works with her hands only is a laborer; the woman who works with her head and her hands is a craftswoman; the woman who works with her head, her hands, and her heart, is an artist." 

Don't you want to stop being a laborer? I know I do. The pay rate is way too low. 

What is something you love doing or used to love doing that has been corrupted in some way that you can take back by fully engaging your mind, body, and soul in the process? Try it and see if it restores a part of your soul. 

If you're tired of this treadmill of the disengaged life, the harried and hurried life, I strongly encourage you to click the link and order a copy of Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy. When I was in what felt like a dark night of the soul, reading this book gave me the light to find my way out. Perhaps that's why it has been on my mind lately since I've been going through a bit of rough transition. 

I promise you won't regret reading it, especially if you're struggling right now. 

In the meantime, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or ask me anything. I'd love to hear from you!

Much love! 

D.










Friday, March 3, 2017

Doubting Dawn - Finding Jesus: Faith, Fact, and Forgery on CNN

The lot is drawn.

These words are spoken by Peter to Thomas in the apocryphal Acts of Thomas which chronicles the travels of the apostle Thomas from Galilee to India to spread the story of and teachings of Jesus Christ. Or at least that's what we learn in season two of "Finding Jesus: Faith, Fact, and Forgery," which premieres on CNN this Sunday, March 5, 2017. Poor Thomas. He's already struggling to understand, to believe, to make sense of the death and resurrection of his friend and teacher...and now he has the bad luck to draw the straw that will send him to what was then seen as the end of the Earth, more or less.

And he does not want to.



At least according to the re-enactment in the episode of Finding Jesus I had the opportunity to screen, he at first refuses, leading Peter to say the words above: "The lot is drawn." Dumb luck or destiny, Thomas is stuck. He and his fellow apostles have been commissioned by Christ to "make believers of all nations."  In his case, to do so means leaving family, friends, the only home he has ever known to travel to a foreign land with no idea how he will be welcomed. He has already seen his friend slaughtered for teaching an alternative to the prevailing belief of their land. We know that Thomas is a man of reason who has been challenged by Jesus to act out of blind faith rather than relying on reason and evidence. How hard it must be to walk blindly into the unknown for him! Yet, as our documentary points out the Acts of Thomas suggests that, with the help of a little con game by Jesus and a night of prayer, Thomas faithfully accepts his lot and brings Christianity to India.

Like Thomas, I have found myself in a crisis of faith. I still don't know if it was just the dumb luck of my husband finding the right job in Chattanooga or if it's destiny that brought us here. Either way, I have not wanted to be here. Well, maybe at first. I did sort of blindly assume it would all be okay. But that wasn't due to my faith in God. It was more about my belief that I could make it all be okay. Unfortunately, it hasn't all been okay. The fresh start I was hoping to have in certain parts of life has been harder to achieve. My kids were deeply saddened by leaving their friends and the familiar comforts of the only home they've ever lived in. I threw myself into trying to help them adjust. I worked with them to focus on the things they liked about their new school, our new home, their new friends. I worried. I prayed for them to adjust. And they did.

It never occurred to me to pray for myself. Or focus on my spiritual needs. I just kept feeling a sense of emptiness, loneliness, and loss and listening to the voice that told me it was all my fault. I gave up my job, my friends, a church I loved, a deeply gratifying role as PTA President. And despite having all of my physical and material needs met...I felt so empty and hopeless, sinking deeper into a growing depression that had been intensifying over the last few months. I kept thinking that I needed to make myself find a job and get up and out so I could meet people. The fact that I couldn't make myself find a job or make new friends was another failure and a reminder of my worthlessness. Like Thomas, I was driven by reason, believing I could think my way through my blocks. It took hitting rock bottom two weeks ago to realize that I needed to be doing more than trying to think my way through. I needed to unify all aspects of my being – mind, body, and spirit.

So, in addition to reading, listening to podcasts, and trying to think my way into action, I've gone back to having a daily practice that is good for all parts of myself. I've renewed my commitment to a healthy diet. I'm exercising. I'm trying to let myself feel all my emotions instead of denying the anger and sadness I felt guilty for feeling. And perhaps most importantly, I'm trying to slow down and find time to quiet my mind through meditation and prayer. And in that prayer, I'm acknowledging that I am not alone as I thought. I still have to take action but I can ask God to help direct my action and to help carry the weight of my loneliness and brokenness.

Clearly, like Thomas's, mine is a reasoned faith. I had to figure out what wasn't working and why, then take the necessary actions to start trying to create the life I am meant for instead of the one I dumb-lucked into. The story of Thomas reminds me of the hymn that goes "Here I am Lord. Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go, Lord, if you lead me." As I mentioned in my previous post, I've changed tacks, headed in a different direction than I intended.  I certainly feel that I am being nudged in the direction of doing work that is in service to others somehow. So, like Thomas, I'm stepping out in faith, couched in the reasoned knowledge that this feels so much better than the alternative of carrying my burdens alone, and trusting that I'm on a path that will bring me greater joy, a sustainable income, and allow me to help others live better, happier lives.

I'm so glad I watched this screener of Finding Jesus. I can't wait to watch every episode starting this Sunday! It was just the right way to start my Lenten practice and gave me the perfect reminder to stay the course like Thomas – not a skeptic, but someone who fought his doubt for his belief. Also, I learned a lot! This isn't just a docudrama with lots of cute British actors. They have actual renowned historians, religious experts and theologians from Oxford, Columbia, Duke, Harvard, and Notre Dame including my favorite Catholic priest, Fr. James Martin, SJ. Check out this trailer to see if you're interested:



Also, I invite you to share the challenges you are facing in the comments below. Or, if you have a story of overcoming doubts and challenges in your life, I would LOVE for you to share that as well. Your story could be the one someone else needs to hear right now! And I have a little incentive for anyone willing to share their story.

Everyone who comments below, likes my Facebook page, shares the Facebook link for this post, and follows me on Instagram will be entered into a drawing for a $25 Lifeway gift certificate. I will do the drawing on Monday, March 6 and notify the winner that day. 

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

When Moving Brings the Blues

I know.

It's a clich̩ that moving is one of the most stressful things you endure in life. Technically, according to the Holmes and Rahe Test Scale, moving ranks way down at number 32 on the list of stressful life events. To be fair, another research study in the UK found moving homes to be as stress-inducing as the death of a spouse. I'm not arguing. But for me Рand I think for many of us Рthe true stress isn't in the act or process of packing up one home, selling it (although that had it's tense moments like when our home inspection revealed a leak we hadn't known about), finding the perfect new home, and settling in. The real stress is in the actual living and making a life in your new home, your new community. I went in as excited and enthusiastic as I could possibly have been. This was my chance to create a new life.

Six months later and I can barely get out of bed. Depression wraps her cold bony hands around me and pulls me down, deep down. Every day, a battle.

The packing, spending three months on an extended road trip with my boys and our dog, making arrangements for places to stay, finding a friend to foster our cat until we got settled...that was a breeze. I loved it because I was busy, busy, busy. I was also still seeing friends as we traveled around and back and forth to Atlanta. Even once we got to Chattanooga, I was busy and my mind occupied with helping the kids adjust, unpacking, decorating. It was exciting and fun.

But pretty soon, the kids had friends. My husband had already been here for six months and had a rich and active social life that I was not a part of and still am not part of because his friends are single, or childless, or somehow I just don't fit. Suddenly, I'm just alone. As alone as I've ever been.

The election happened, too. Holmes and Rahe rank election years as being quite stressful and I honestly think that did not help me.

I've tried some things and met people I genuinely care about...smart, wonderful women that I hope to know better. But I haven't found my tribe yet. And trying to actually find them is kind of scary. I feel like a kid on the first day of high school looking at the various tables of cliques in the high school cafeteria and not knowing where I fit in.

My old tribe was pretty awesome. They were a group of women from my neighborhood and kids' school or from playgroups when the kids were younger. Still there when the oldest is 14 and the youngest 10. Smart, funny, compassionate, passionate...always there for each other. And I've managed to keep in touch thanks to Facebook and the modern marvel of texting. I've been home once and my best friend from the tribe has been to visit me up here. And I mostly don't feel forgotten.

Still, though...and this is one of the darker aspects of social media I feel stupid for falling victim to...the part where we allow it to shade our thoughts with what we imagine to be the case, or by our own negative self-talk.... Still, though, it hurts when I see pictures of all my friends at a party that I probably would have been at if I still lived there. Or posts that include a reference to a joke I don't get because I wasn't there. I shouldn't be hurt. No one is actually doing anything to hurt me. And of course I neither want nor expect anyone else's life to pause because I'm not there. That's not it at all.

The IT here is the profound loneliness I feel, day in and day out. Even when I'm laughing with the very kind and welcoming basketball moms I hung out with during basketball season or my terrific neighbor or having lunch with a new friend, I don't feel that warm, comfortable yet inexplicable sensation of belonging that you feel with a tribe member. It's a sense of knowing that this person is yours and you are hers and you've totally got each others' backs. That's the thing that's missing. Sometimes you meet someone and you know instantly you'll be friends forever. It's the platonic version of love at first sight. I may have met "the one," actually. But my inner voice tells me not to be presumptuous. (What if she's just being nice, right?) We've tried making a couple of coffee dates, but sick kids prevented our meeting. I'll have to wait until we meet again in person to validate that there's real and shared friendship chemistry underlying our shared love of music and pop culture.

Compounding the loneliness is my deep need for a sense of meaning and purpose. With nothing to occupy my mind, I have a lot of time to ponder why I'm alone. That's why I'm blogging now. To paraphrase Buddy the Elf, "Writing is my favorite!"

I came to the conclusion that I have to write and create my own meaningful work after spending a Friday night crying myself to sleep after driving my child to Atlanta to spend the weekend with a friend. I knew I'd come home to hang out with my teenager for a few hours then spend the rest of the evening alone while my husband was out with his friends. Sometime in the night, I awoke and while reading Twitter, I saw a link to this post by James Altucher. It was just the thing I needed to read to pull myself out of the spiral. And it was the inspiration I needed to resume writing. (I still haven't formally done everything on the list, but it got me started. Maybe you'll see a few of the lists turn up as blog posts!)

The job market is tight here. And I don't believe I'm going to find my purpose in a traditional job anyway. So, I've decided to focus on freelance writing again, and to work on this blog. When I think of what my real purpose is, I always come back to the idea that I want to help other women who might be going through the same or similar things that I am or have gone through. As hard as this experience of adjusting to a new city, making new friends, and building a new life is I believe it can serve a greater purpose. As I reinvent myself and create a new life here in Chattanooga, I want to highlight the things that work for me and share them with others. I'll still be writing about the rest of my crazy, beautiful life – I still love life despite feeling like I hit rock bottom and wallowed in my hopelessness several days out of the last two weeks.

I hope you'll come along with me on this journey. I want you to share your experiences, your trials. We'll take it day by day. Let's figure this thing out together...decide what to be and go be it.

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Love y'all!


Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Shine: Doing What Makes You Sparkle



I am so ready to sparkle, y'all!

And by that I don't mean I'm ready to put on my shiniest party dress and dance all night, although that might help me accomplish my true aim.

No, what I mean when I say that is that I'm ready to really and truly be me and do the things I love and to do even the things I don't love in such a way that I can feel good about the effort I made. I want to live in such a way that other people feel better when they're around me. I want to be enthusiastic and joyful. I want to sparkle. One of the greatest compliments I ever received was from a man at my high school reunion. He said that he had "always admired my zest for life." That's what I want people to see: an enthusiastic embrace and gratefulness for all that life gives me and a constant desire for more. More. Of. All. Of. It.

I have felt as if I were in limbo for the last month and a half. Hell. Let's be honest. I've felt like I was in limbo since January when my husband high-tailed it for Chattanooga and his new job and got started living what is supposed to be our new life. Meanwhile, I was back in Atlanta elbow-deep in the drudgery of packing, purging, and selling our home while keeping the kids and the dog and the cat alive, getting the young humans through the school year, then figuring out what the hell we were going to do for the two months between closings. And did I mention the emotions? Oh – not mine – but my 13-year old's. Sweet Mother of Mercy! This child has been beside himself. For the first month, all I heard was a litany of how much he hates Chattanooga, how his new school is the WORST(!), his life is ruined, and IT'S ALL MOM'S FAULT!!!

After a month of travels that have included the beach, Atlanta, Houston, New Orleans,  back to Atlanta (hometown with our homies), and now, Birmingham, Alabama, I think he's too tired to fight. Or I'd like to think that. The Angry Teenager does rear his head every now and then, but mostly he's back to being my sweet kid who, like me and his younger brother, just wants to be home. You know, home? That place where the heart is and all that jazz. That place you get to stay in for more than a week at a time? We're almost there. This is the home stretch. One week and two days until we close and can move in.

So, naturally, after keeping it together all summer during what I thought would be the hard part, it's time for me to lose my ish. I've been obsessively reading Marie Kondo's book, Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up. I've been obsessively comparing prices and styles of area rugs and sofas. Reading Consumer Reports articles about washers and dryers and vacuum cleaners and floor sweepers. Scouring Bed, Bath, and Beyond and HomeGoods for the perfect bedding for my bed, our guest room, and the kids' rooms. New mattresses for two beds. A new bed for one kid. All of it has consumed every free moment for the last two weeks, I think. And to what end?

I mean, part of it is legitimate. I purged a lot. Hence my son needing a new bed and a new mattress. I took Kondo's advice about getting rid of the things that don't bring you joy and I'm willing to replace the items that need replacing with things that make my heart sing. And I am truly committed to running a cleaner, calmer, more organized household in our new home.

But some of this obsessively comparing products or styles or colors until I am locked in some sort of analysis paralysis is just me being mental and avoiding the things I'm really worried about. I feel like there is little of importance that is truly within my control right now. I am consumed by "what ifs." What if after living apart for seven months, my husband realizes he hates me? What if he hates our new house? What if my kids aren't accepted in their new school? What if I don't find a writing job?What if no one likes me and I can't make new friends? What if none of this works out? What if...

Somehow, my lizard brain seems to believe that if I can just find the perfect rug, perfect sofa, perfect EVERYTHING that screams "She's made it!" or maybe it's more like, "Wow! Check out this super-together, creative chick," I will win the hearts and minds of Chattanoogans at large and God-so-help-me, I'll never be lonely again – or some other Scarlett O'Hara bullshit.

So, yeah...That. I'm browsing design sites and analyzing every review of every product I'm considering as if my life depended on it so I can more or less hide from my real fears – loneliness and rejection. Don't judge.

Now that I've recognized what's going on, I'm trying to focus on solving the real problems. I've been running and am trying to commit to a regular schedule. Yesterday I made a list of ways I can meet people in Chattanooga and by posting that on Instagram, I actually did connect with someone there. Baby steps. But moving, ever forward with my eye on all the shiny things that will help me sparkle.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Like a Rolling Stone: Untethered and Embracing It (or Trying to)

It has been nearly two full weeks since we closed on the sale of our home in Atlanta.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Since that day, my boys, dog Josie, and I have been untethered and blowing in the wind. My friends and husband joke that we are homeless. Technically, that may be true. But I can't say it because it scares me. The new home to which we are moving in Chattanooga won't be finished until July. So, for a few weeks we are drifters. Hubs is busy working at his (not-so new anymore) job in an awesome company he seems to love and making connections in our new city. We haven't lived under the same roof for six months. I'm happy for him but so totally jealous at the same time.

I feel stuck in limbo and let's be honest: parenting solo, especially a newly minted teenager, is tough and tiring. As is packing and doing all the stuff involved with moving. Not that being the primary earner isn't tough and mentally exhausting. It's just another side of the coin. And frankly, I could use a little time alone.

I feel like, in addition to the job I was getting paid to do up until I quit a week before the moving truck arrived, I was full-time parenting alone; packing, cleaning, and dealing with all the emotions associated with leaving the home where we built our family; and the end of the school year. Let's just say I may have lost my cool a few times.

Now, between homes, the kids and (the dog) and I are trying to enjoy this freedom by traveling. As I type, I am sitting on a porch swing in a pretty little spot called Magnolia Springs, Alabama which is near Gulf Shores, a beach town. It's exciting and fun but also kind of scary and exhausting.

At least to me it's scary, and I'm sure it is to our kids on some level. They need structure and stability and how can you have that when you don't even have the same four walls around you at any time? There's no guide book for living out of your car for six to eight weeks. And while I could have found temporary housing for that period, it was expensive and this seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have an adventure.

I forgot that adventure is not my middle name.

So, two weeks in and I'm feeling a little uncertain. Calling on my angels for protection and guidance and looking forward to getting settled. We'll be back in Atlanta next week to attend VBS at our church and I'm hoping that calms me so I can calm them. For now, I just want to focus on having some fun and helping my boys to do the same. Yesterday we hit the beach, got rained on while we played in the waves which was a unique experience, ate seafood (or I did - they stuck to cheeseburgers), played minigolf, and ate bad ice cream.

We're about to head back to the beach and see what other fun our day holds. I am hoping for some laughter, beautiful new memories, and the lesson that whatever life throws at you can be taken in stride and with a smile on your face.

Here's to getting out of that comfort zone and growing.

What tips do you have for facing new challenges or for traveling with teens and tweens? Would love to hear your thoughts on all this! Please leave a comment.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

A Step You Can't Take Back


Last Wednesday, my kids, husband, and I said goodbye to the home we lived in for nearly 16 years. It was not easy.

Aside from the grueling physical and material aspects of moving – countless trips up and down stairs and ladders to the attic and basement, lifting boxes, making endless lists and calling dozens of businesses related to the move, and, of course the costs – the emotional side weighed heavy on my heart. So much happened in this house.... Two sons were born and grew into sweetly funny and loving young boys, one nearly a man at thirteen. A baby girl was lost before the idea of her could fully bloom. New friends came into our lives, some staying for the long haul, and others moving on before I was ready for them to go. I treasure those who stayed and still feel grateful for having known those who outgrew me (or was it the other way around?).

We loved and lost pets and brought new ones into the family because there is just so much love to share. Romance peaked and waned and peaked again as long loves do, but always, always, always, there was a lasting love and a story to be written together.

I have focused much on the joys experienced in our Georgia home. Because that's what we do...right?

But I once called our home cursed and brought out the Holy Water and sage to try and cast out the sorrow I felt hanging about us during an especially challenging time. It wasn't the only time I felt that way living in that house.

Still, we look at the totality of our experiences and if nothing else, my faith and ability to love (deeply and unconditionally) grew by leaps and bounds in this home. It is where I learned what it really means to be a wife and where I became a mother. I evolved from timid and insecure to confident and experienced. I encountered the teachings of Abraham-Hicks which reinforced my Catholic beliefs about God's love for us and I learned that we choose joy and that doing so isn't always easy, but it's definitely worth the effort. I also learned how to take care of my physical and mental health with diet, exercise, and supplements. And I learned to choose me.

Now as I stand at the edge of my future, I realize that I'm really not leaving anything behind. Just a building, where a new family will grow and live their lives. I take the rest with me, but really only the good. Because ultimately, the negative experiences I had led me to the changes I needed to make to become the woman, the wife, the friend, the mother, that I want to be, that I am, that I am still becoming.  And in leading me to where I needed to be the chaff was transformed into gold.

I know our life in Chattanooga will be amazing because I believe in amazing. In the meantime, my kids and I will be spending the next six or seven weeks as vagabonds until our new home is complete. I hope to share some of our experiences. You can watch as I totally step out of my security-craving comfort zone and grow.

Feel free to follow me on Twitter, or here. And, in the meantime, I'd love to hear your stories about getting out of your comfort zone, or what happened when you took a step you couldn't take back. Please share your story in the comments. Namaste.


Saturday, April 2, 2016

Write Like No One is Watching


I have debated deleting and killing this blog so many times it's not funny. But I could never quite let go. I loved writing it and there is rarely a day that goes by when I don't think "I really should start writing my blog again." Of course, those thoughts come with a dose of self-conscious discomfort, fear and questions about why I'm doing it.

Am I trying to capture life in words to hold onto it? Simply processing my emotions? Trying to use my words about my experience to help someone else going through the same thing? Dreaming of the influence and fortune of superbloggers like Glennon Doyle? Sure. All of that.



It all comes with my constant nagging fear of being mocked and judged, a holdover from childhood that no amount of positive feedback has eroded. Still, I can't ignore the drumbeat pestering in my heart urging me to write again. This morning, I reached out to fellow blogger and author Sarah Fader from OldSchool/NewSchoolMom for some advice on how to get going again. Sarah's advice? "Write like no one is watching."

Wow. I know...simple, been said before...But seriously, this was exactly what I needed to hear right now.... Now, as I stand on the precipice again, frightened and excited by what comes next, both in life and on this blog, I know it is definitely time to start writing again.

Welcome back, me.