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Showing posts from April, 2018

on my way

I'm on this winding path, and I can't yet see where I'm heading. All I can do is trust the signs along the way that I am on the right track. Little serendipities, like nods from the Universe, are the breadcrumbs into the forest. I can almost feel the shape and edges of it. Creativity is the foundation, service is the purpose, desire is the instrument, the body is the vehicle. I've got packed in my bag the wisdom from everything before, and space for all the hopes of tomorrow. My heart is full, yet theres room to expand. So much to learn and experience and grow into. All that I am. All that I want. All that I am meant to be.

love languages

There are parts of myself I have a hard time reaching these days... or maybe it's that I am so nose deep in other parts that I just don't have the capacity to hold some things the way I used to. I know this is part of where I am in my story these days, that it won't always feel like this, and I'm trying to show up as a mom with enough breadth to catch us all. Lately, my most reliable form of love-making has been happening in the kitchen. I've been baking and cooking comfort food to warm the heart and fill the soul so that we can at least commune around the table, our little family of three, for some simple heart to heart time. The kind that fill us up both inside and out. It's what's holding us together these days. This spinach and artichoke recipe is one of our faves. It's great to build a light meal around or to bring to a party... always a hit ;) Baked Spinach & Artichoke Dip 1 can artichoke hearts (drained and chopped) 1 handfull o

suddenly I see

One of my faorite things to do on a rainy day (or any day, actually), is hang out in the magazine stacks at my local bookstore to peruse for inspiration. I mean, look at this gorgeous spread on the inside cover of Selvedge . So yummy... and I loved the diversity of women represented, even if just a tiny slice of color, age, race. I've been noticing more and more, like I somehow have fresh new eyes to see, all the whiteness and privilege around me. Of course this is not anything new. I live (and grew up) in a very white, very privileged community, but something about where I am on my journey is really amplifying the disparities for me. I know it's for a reason that's both deeply personal and widely purposeful. I just don't really know what that is yet. I'm at the edge of it, and it's pretty big.  So, I'm just noticing. How all the Stampington publications are always so similar in flavor.  How the new Bella Grace periodical, aptly named Ne

staring at the sun

Yesterday, I finally unpacked the last of the boxes in my house. I only had a few, but they were looming large enough to keep me in some sort of subliminal state of circling and not quite landing. I've also had a significant pile of things still taking up space at the old Plum Island house. I finally went and grabbed those things as well.  In some ways I've been longing to sink in, but beneath all the deeper layers, in other ways I just haven't been completely ready. The letting go has been happening inch by inch. The move has been as much about the relocation of things as it has been about the redistribution of a significant amount of space inside my heart.  I've been grappling with my own resistance, trying to tease apart all the nuances of grief and loss alongside the tentative feelings of liberation and possibility. I'm challenging my own narratives, trying to see if they still hold up and feel true, right now. The story of codependency is so comple

welcome to you

Owen and I were pretty tickled when we saw our post featured on the 23andMe Instagram feed, along with the message "Here's to the beginning of your DNA story!". I haven't thought too deeply about the process or what information I might uncover as there are deep waters to wade into as an adoptee, but I have thought a long time about taking this actual leap which for me is about so much more than spitting into a test tube for fun.  I'd been waiting to receive this as a gift having told a few people over the years this was one thing I really wanted when asked, and feeling like spending the hundred dollars was a bit self indulgent. I finally decided it was worth it and I should stop waiting for someone else to fulfill this desire, and gifted myself this long awaited experience. That decision felt liberating, and proactive, and how it was actually supposed to happen the moment I made it, and I understand better now how I was also being passive about it for oth

life with boys

Over the weekend the boys and I chased the sunshine. I was craving it... the stillness, the depths, the deep in the bone warmth and the wide expanse of sea, sky and forest as it begins to wake up. There's something about this quarry that feels like every kind of magic balm. The transition on this side of things has been the hardest, for sure. The new house is still not quite Home. The new rhythms are not quite real routines. So much is still uncharted territory, physically, emotionally, and everywhere in between.  The hardest part of this separation has been witnessing their stories and trying to tell a new one that feels like it might be sturdy enough to hold them into this next phase of life, without getting too tangled in my own. It is painstaking work and often takes everything I've got to show up for them. There are many times I worry I'm falling impossibly short.  Some nights we still aren't sleeping well. Some days we just want to be som