Welcome
My older son was a junior in high school when it hit me: This family life we had, the life I thought would last forever, was already in the process of turning into something else. I'd been so busy worrying about what college he might get into, that I wasn't even seeing the countless changes going on right under my nose. Not to mention the biggest change of all: the fact that, someday soon, he would no longer be HERE, living at home with us. The realization stopped me in my tracks. I didn't want to miss one more moment of the present because I was regretting the past or fretting about the future. I
wrote a book, and discovered that I wasn't the only woman who yearned for change, only to resist it when it happened -
your letters have told me that. I filmed a
video, and was astonished when it went viral (over a million and a half views and counting...). And now I'm glad to meet you here, to share the gift of ordinary days and reflections on what it means to live thoughtfully and well. Welcome!
I’ve spent the last three weeks in one place doing one thing. And, although I will leave my mother’s house two days from now with a stack of manuscript pages, I will also leave with a great deal more knowledge about how I get in my own way. There are people, many of them dear friends of mine, who can’t wait to sit down alone and shape their thoughts and feelings into sentences and paragraphs. I so wish I were one of them. There are some who have learned to trust their creative process, others who entertain a muse, some…
I am in Florida this month, enjoying my own private writer’s bootcamp for one. By the time my sons went back to school after Christmas, it was pretty clear to me that if I had any hope of making my book deadline in March, I was going to have to take drastic steps. So, my husband booked me a plane ticket, and here I am, holed up in my mother’s quiet guest room, with no distractions, no responsibilities, and nothing to do but write. My mom doesn’t care if I go for twelve hours without speaking. She has her own…
Last week, I wrote about wholeheartedness, a word that truly seemed to pick me, rather than the other way around, for 2012. On New Year’s Day, my last morning at Kripalu, having accepted my word, I decided that I would simply allow myself to live into it. Moment by moment, I would try to do the loving thing, whatever that might be. Instead of second guessing myself, worrying about what might happen next, or trying to come off a certain way, I would set my foot down firmly on the side of love over fear. And so, at the risk…
“Wholeheartedness.” It’s a mouthful. It’s also the word that has been ricocheting around in my thoughts for a week. The word I keep coming back to when I imagine who I want to be and how I want to live. The word that is surely the antidote for the devouring self-doubt that’s lately been haunting my days and keeping me awake at night. What I suffer with in the darkness is this: My best efforts aren’t enough. I don’t have what it takes to be the mother my two sons need, the wife my husband desires, the friend my own…
“Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it toward others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world.” – Etty Hillesum I find myself returning again and again to Etty Hillesum’s words, absorbing them, hoping they will take deep root and live in me during this holiday season. As I sit in my kitchen on this gray December morning, so aware of time passing and so wishing to make the most of each shared…
