Archive for May, 2012

May 22nd, 2012

You Have Permission to Just Be

{flickr photo}

Like reptiles we shed our soft baby skins and soft, playful spirits when we leave childhood. We embrace a tougher skin and more brittle insides that we think come with adulthood.

“We’re grown-ups now,” we say to ourselves. That means no more lounging around, letting our souls dream, and watching the day roll on by the way we used to as kids.

We allow ourselves to harden the way flowers do when they’re on the their way to die. And we forget that life is about growing, not sinking into ourselves.

And why shouldn’t we?

Life gives us more than enough reason to. It takes away our loved ones, our dreams, our hope. And it does so in such an insidious, unexpected way, how can we not relinquish the playfulness and whimsy that characterized our youth, and grab onto what’s left: fear, discouragement, disappointment?

It is, but a choice.

{The rest of my post can be read on my Beliefnet Health column, “Happy Haven.”}

 

May 18th, 2012

Creative Space: Spring Tulips

I decided to change the name of my creative posts because 1) creativity doesn’t always come on a Friday 2) I love Oprah’s Breathing Space – a place where you can just be present and breathe. Don’t we all need more of that?

I think true joy comes in noticing the small things.

Take this, for example:

{photo by The Inspiring Bee}

It’s the inside of a beautiful tulip. See all those tiny strokes of red as if someone took a paintbrush and hand painted each individually?

It’s so awe-inspiring even on the outside.

It inspired my latest painting.
When you take time to observe the small things, you open yourself up to inspiration.

What have you noticed lately?

May 14th, 2012

Where’s Your Courage?

{flickr photo by: dalechumbley}

I used to think courage was being able to sit through a horror flick without hiding under a jacket, asking a guy out, or giving a speech. All of which I failed miserably at. As a child, my mom used to buy me books and toys with a theme: A dog that said, “I’m lonely.” A mouse that said, “I’m shy.”

Okay I got it mom!

But as I got older, I realized that what I thought was courage, was far from what I thought it was. Yes, it took some guts and bravery to do the above. But real courage was strength.

The kind of courage I’m talking about is the one…

  • that pushes you to say how you truly feel.
  • that frees you to be yourself, not repressing your quirky parts out of fear from being rejected or your winning side so others won’t feel dim in your light.
  • that lets you sit in the unknown in peace and quells the anxious voice.
  • that gives you faith when nothing is going right and everything feels wrong.

Courage is sometimes the fierce lion, but often the determined mouse.

It’s not easy being courageous. But when we get to that mountaintop and feel the wind brushing our face, we will know that the only way to truly live is to be on the edge of comfort and walk toward our greatest fears with courage.

 Are you living your life with courage or in fear?

May 11th, 2012

TGICF: Thank Goodness It’s Creative Friday

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt crafty. I think my last crafty stint was compiling that free craft e-book over there on the right.

But I’m happy to say that after a long break, it’s baaack!

Because I’ve been hibernating for awhile, I chose a super duper easy project to ease into.

Basically, I took an old canvas with a painting I wasn’t too excited about and repainted over it in white.

 

Then, I reused leftover French Toile fabric I had from one of my favorite projects-a recovered antique typewriter I talked about here and here.

And I wrapped it up like a little present using fabric glue to keep it in place. {love that thing!}

It works either as a hanging fabric wrapped canvas or as a frame. If you look close you can still see my original painting through the fabric. I think it looks pretty cool.

DIY Frame

Here they are, my two French toile covered projects side by side:

What have you been working on lately?

{It’s graduation season! Wanna know the 5 things I wished someone had told me when I graduated high school? Check out my Beliefnet post here.}

May 9th, 2012

A Different Way of Perceiving Loss

{flickr photo by The Djudju Beast}

Loss is one of those inevitable experiences in life we have to cope with. Hopefully we don’t have to deal with it until we’re older and more able to handle the grief. But in any case, it’s hard. Its impact devastating.

It’s difficult to deal with whether we’re dealing with the loss of a relationship, a job or a loved one (furry kids included). And one of the reasons why it’s so hard is that it reminds us about how short life is. Every loss is like another dying leading us to our own inevitable death.

Sorry to be so grim. But we are talking about death.

While coping is never easy, I’ve recently found a ray of light to help me deal with loss in a new way.

I realized that the being, the job, the opportunity that we feel we lost has been a gift. And when it’s ripped away from us, we forget that. I think we take for granted that life is short. Waking up each day feels like an expectation not a reason for gratitude. And we expect the same from those around us. We think that life will always unfold the way it has been and are shaken up when it’s suddenly changed.

It’s normal to feel angry, sad, and filled with despair when we lose something we love. But when we’re past the point of initial grieving, I think we owe it to ourselves and the people and things we lost to find the gift in their presence. It’s not only the empty space they leave which makes up the legacy of their life, but their entire life.

Whenever I feel like I’m falling into despair, I refocus my perspective. I remember that the time we have with people and the experiences we love are less important than the remaining impact they left on our hearts. I’d rather remember the gift than the anger. I’d rather hold onto their love than the loss.

And I think it’s important to focus on their purpose of being here instead of why they left. We will never know why something we love has to end. Trying to find the answer to that question can only pull us down a road toward more struggle and suffering. Instead, I choose to find answers to why they were here in the first place.

It’s not easy to deal with the sound of silence after something we loved was taken away. But I know that if we can continue to remember the love, hope is right around the corner…