Blurred Lines. Clear Vision.
So a few weeks ago we had this great birthday and housewarming party. I like this new house for gatherings. I am very sorry you weren't invited – I am not all that great at planning events. (Confession to yet another thing I am not great at!)
Ever since then I can't stop thinking about the lines of relationships and honesty and exposure. (Click HEREto Tweet)
I know this:
I don't take friends on as clients.
But some of my clients do become my friends. Is this okay? Is it okay for them? Is it okay for me? Does it jeopardize our professional relationship? How honest can I be in our friendship, really? It's frustrating sometimes that this job doesn't come with any
hard and fast rules.
If fact, I am blurring the lines daily it feels. But what lines are these and who made them?
I asked my mother and she said just posting to this blog is over-sharing. Is it? And?
We do like over-sharing these days, don't we? A part of it helps people. And that's enough for me.
Actually, You Can't Have It All
Work and motherhood is a balance blah blah blah blah.
Bullshit.
You can't be the mother you want to be and be the business woman you want to be. It's too wide of a straddle. One foot on the boat, one on the dock.
It's uncomfortable, it's imperfect. It's my life.
Sometimes I think I suck at both. That's just a thought. Sometimes I think I rock at both, that's just a thought.
But, I will never be the 100% mother. I'll always love my work. And I'll never be 100% business woman. I'll always love my family. It crushes my soul and inspires me simultaneously. I day dream about the lecture circuit, the amazing endeavors I would take on sans kids, how successful I know I could be, how powerful. And then I look at their faces while they sleep and I know a night away from them when they are this small is not for me.
It is about choice. And the flip side of choice is sacrifice. And we grieve the loss of the beautiful virgin on the altar.
But we celebrate her life and the rains the sacrifice brought.
This will always be my story. The straddle. The never-quite-one-thing. The half mom and half business person. The half hippy and half yuppie.
The sacrifice, the balance, the choice, the surrender.
But always starting here, with me. With the truth, with brave honesty, authenticity and growing experience.
Do you want to show up with the same? Do you want to balance and straddle and bend and sacrifice and grow and learn and leap? Work with me, and let's figure out how you can be the best you. I'll continue to show up here so you can learn a little bit about my story too.
Because Sometimes When I Go Inside I Want to Leave
Is this normal? I mean, I know there is really no such thing...
I have this love/hate relationship with museums. Also zoos. And the movies. And stores. Pretty much any place that requires me to be A) inside and B) paying attention.
I know I am not alone in this.
But I am always feeling guilty. Look at all these people enjoying themselves. Shopping therapy? More like shopping PTSD. Except for sometimes, when it is fine. WTF? Why does it change? Why am I so unpredictable. Why am I sweating when everyone is cold? Let's just face it:::
Our minds and our bodies are fucking strange.
That's it. I should stop trying to reason this out (it's the hormones, it's the sugar, it's the exhaustion). WHATEVER. Why do we need to justify it? Can't we just feel what we feel what we feel what we feel what we feel?
Nope. Not me. I have this
deep seated need to overanalyze.
Why am I sweating in the gem room? Am I overly sensitive to the amethyst? Is it the lighting. Why am I so damn sensitive? The loops, the endless brain loops.
Moral of the story being::: THESE ARE JUST THOUGHTS. Really. That's it. Neither true nor false, nor requiring an analysis of such. THE ARE JUST THOUGHTS.
Just another day/moment of my fucked up and beautiful insanity.
THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU
Yes, yes, I know. Contrived. Predictable.
But, FUCKING GENUINE.
Seriously, thank you for showing up here and reading. I know you are. I have site statistics and know there are between 100-800 of you. I don't know who you are (well, except you, mom), but, thank you.
It's a little odd to be this public. This honest. This open. It's embarrassing.
I alternate between feeling badass and like and asshole.
I worry, what will my grandmother think? Should I curse this much? What will my clients think? Will my daughter read this? Could I be arrested? Will I get a stalker? Do you know where I live? Do they want to know anyone this well? Am I a waste of internet space? Yarp, I think all of these things JUST LIKE YOU. But I let them float by. I try not to get hung up. I try to push forward and keep TRUSTING and BELIEVING that if I am really, truly, honestly as much me as I can be–that I will speak to a place inside you where judgement is forbidden.
So, THANK YOU for creating and holding space for me, virtually. It's my true hope that my attempt to reconcile my whole self here in front of you will inspire you to do some of the same. Be You. Be the best you that you can.
Be honest and hope and fucking pray that they/he/she/I will love you anyway.
Happy Thanksgiving, folks.
I AM:: Scattered, A Hot Mess
Fuck it, man. I am really good at a few things. But not today. Well, maybe this morning. But not today. Maybe a little bit in the afternoon. But not today. The evening kinda crumbled, but when I had to be I was still:
pretty fucking good.
Right, right? Isn't that what I would tell you to say to yourself? Even when (and that when, for me, is RIGHT NOW) you feel completely scattered and like you are doing not one bit of good. What do I usually say?
Become present and SLOW DOWN.
That's it, have I drilled it home? That's what I should do. That's what you need to do. Plant feet. On earth. Focus eyes. Downward. Drink a glass of water. I am going to remind us, together, again and again. Until we listen and really hear. Until we relapse and speed up and I say, "Hey. Wait. Look at me. Slow down." NOURISH YOURSELF. PLEASE. It will make the world a better place. You can't
runabusiness.bealive.raiseyourbabies.thinkgoodthoughts
unless you learn this VERY basic but not so easy coping skill. Everything is telling you to multitask. To connect. Fast. Instant Message. Constant contact. Go, go, go.
Who tells you to go take a nap? To stick your feet in some grass, or some fluffy socks? To take care of your damn self because that is the
BEST THING YOU CAN DO FOR ANYBODY else.
I DO. I am telling you. It's your job. Your first job. Your only real job. Take care of your scattered hot mess self. Do it however you know how. If you don't know how:: learn. NOW. It's past time.
Make it a New Year's resolution, join a cult, take my self care session. I don't care how you get there as long as you get to care. Take a step in that direction and DO IT RIGHT NOW. There is no time to waste.
Was it an excuse? You have to do what? Someone needs what? Screw it. At least for a minute.
Signs of Fall
I love fall. I love the turning in the inspiration of pinterest, brisk walks, glowing leaves. It's a transition I am really, really good at. It's the shit that makes my soul glow.
I love fall. I love the turning in the inspiration of pinterest, brisk walks, glowing leaves. It's a transition I am really, really good at. It's the shit that makes my soul glow.
Different people thrive in different seasons. This is mine, but what's yours? What feels real to you? Which shift do you wait for, dream about, embrace and revel in?
Keep reading:
BLOG
about 2 weeks ago
about 3 months ago
By Popular Demand: Mini Computer Help Session
about 5 months ago
Moving Life
I know I am not the only one who loves moving. But I really do. I've been getting rid of stuff lately and now I am so excited to pare down even more and pack up.
We were approved for our loan (our third, ohmygod) to buy the new blue house! And we close (I think) in about two weeks.
Now on the agenda:
I know I am not the only one who loves moving. But I really do. I've been getting rid of stuff lately and now I am so excited to pare down even more and pack up.
We were approved for our loan (our third, ohmygod) to buy the new blue house! And we close (I think) in less than ten days.
Now on the agenda:
- Packing. (Yippee Yeah YEAH Yahoo!)
- Fixing up our current place. Want to come paint window trim for us? Also, patching walls, cleaning, primping, making gorgeous.
- Trying to rent our current apt. See listing HERE. And please, pass it around.
- Taking care of two kids, running a few businesses, and wait, doing this all in the next two weeks!
- Is there something I am missing? Like dreaming about stuff for the new house on etsy?
- Oh, right, taking off the trim in the laundry room to get the washer out, switching the plug back to a euro to put in a different washer/dryer, getting the mason to come and re-tile the shower....crap! Go, team, go!
And now, because you always look for this:
Mindfulness in Moving
Things to notice as you go:
- SPACE. Stop. Breathe it it, feel it around you.
- STUFF. See your attachments. Note them & move gently along.
- DECISIONS. Yes, we all make them. Trust yourself deeply.
- TIME. Things change. We are always IN FLUX. Breathe again. Accept.
- CALM. Even in the most harrowed moments, there are other moments within.
Close your eyes and smile. You CAN do this.
Read more and read it here:
Life Lite – Live Light
Oh it is the fifth trip to sal–army this week to drop off bags and bags and it feels so amazing. What is it about lightening the load that makes me feel like a balloon? That makes me feel like this:
Oh it is the fifth trip to sal–army this week to drop off bags and bags and it feels so amazing. What is it about lightening the load that makes me feel like a balloon? That makes me feel like this:
Just a station wagon and some nalgene bottles. And a whole lot of love. But what I remember was the
LIGHTNESS.
Actually, scratch that. I am just pretending to remember lightness. I think I was pretty stressed at the time.
But back to LIGHTENING THE LOAD. Gosh, every bag I donate, every unused bunt pan, serving spoon, stuffed animal, and three hole punch – I levitate a little more. I feel
SPACE OPEN.
This is how I want to feel.
Clean, able to breathe, able to move and flow, inspired, soft, thankful.
I love identifying this. Realizing how profoundly space impacts me. How I love light shining off of golden wood floors.
My next tenant will move to the amazing space you see below. I love this, this offering of space. This way I collect money to support my family, in exchange for space.
ENTER THE GIVEAWAY HERE!
Like this stuff? Maybe you'll like this stuff:
I Miss, I Miss, I Miss (Because Being Self Employed is not ALWAYS the Bomb)
I miss high heels (I work from home you see).
I miss the water cooler (cold, free-to-me crisp water, anytime).
I miss being the right temperature for a man in a suit jacket (and stashing sweaters under my desk).
I miss tech support (calling them, not being them).
I miss take out for lunch (because I'm lazy).
I miss high heels (I work from home you see).
I miss the water cooler (cold, free-to-me crisp water, anytime).
I miss being the right temperature for a man in a suit jacket (and stashing sweaters under my desk).
I miss tech support (calling them, not being them).
I miss take out for lunch (because I'm lazy).
I miss commuting (mmm, forced time and space).
I miss direct deposit (weekly, biweekly, whatever).
I miss thinking it's not my problem (these days, it always is).'
I miss coworkers (even the nasty ones, I swear).
I miss weekends (WTF are those?)
I miss paid time off, and sick days and subsidized heath insurance (seriously, they pay you to not work AND stay healthy).
I miss sexy underwear (seriously, what's the point?)
I miss corporate credit cards (someone else pays for something!)
I miss elevators (okay, maybe not so much).
I miss empty trash cans (every morning, yo! Trash be gone like magic! And that shit is vacuumed too!)
I guess what i am saying is this so over said, but under appreciated thought, thanks Joni.
“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
And also, how can I make sexy underwear, ice water and vacations a bigger part of my life?
So for all of you "I-still-have-a-9-5-and-I-resent-it" this post is for you. Breathe in the goodness and get your creative off on the side.
Message from a Mom (that's me)
Pardon my one-handed nursing/typing, it's all I've got these days.
What's not to be terrified about? When I got pregnant with my first it was a big surprise. And one that I didn't calmly accept. There was so much grieving for my old life.
Dear I'm-Not-Sure-If-I'm-Ready-To-Be-A-Mom,
Pardon my one-handed nursing/typing, it's all I've got these days.
What's not to be terrified about? When I got pregnant with my first it was a big surprise. And one that I didn't calmly accept. There was so much grieving for my old life. Passing from maiden to mother, life transitions. This time around I felt grief for infringing on my relationship and my exclusive love for my daughter.
Change is fucking hard. Profound responsibility is hard.
Add my insane level of anxiety to the mix and it was even harder! But here I am, in my underwear, in bed at 8:30, one kid asleep, one nursing and crying, alternately. By morning I will be exhausted, but mostly just sick of sleeping in 1 hr spurts. I might not want to get dressed. I might cry.
But I'll make it through another day.
And I'll make it through parenthood.
And I'll make mistakes and I'll be terrified.
And you will be too. And you'll question each decision and each moment.
Great love involves great risk. What really is the worst thing? What is your biggest fear?
Not to be contrived, but I'll leave you with my favorite quote:
I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life— and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do. —Georgia O'Keeffe
Luck and love-- I am always here with brutal honesty if you have any questions.
-Hannah
