i love how all these new york moments were drenched in this juicy shade of purple. purely coincidental, but fun none the less.  the trip was unforgettably beautiful… 24 hours of passionate work and play, though admittedly i barely made my 10am bus.

new york city always gives me a charge. the energy there is so vibrant and so filled with possibility and with having spent so much time there in previous years for work, i feel comfortable in that city in spite of it’s vastness.  i think part of it is that i feel like i can just get lost amidst the hustle and bustle and sink in to the experience.  the immersion of it is comforting.  and then there is just so much more to explore and discover there. so much inspiration.

seeing jonatha perfrom in that breathtaking space, surrounded by this light, that voice*!*, and such amazing friends was simply and divinely unforgettable. elizabeth and her girls have truly manifested something magical, a circle of love and connection that is real and resonant and welcoming.  i felt a little funny about being a bit of an outsider in the Squam circle, having not journeyed there yet, but it didn’t matter so much.  it was all about the togetherness of this particular experience… and besides, i met some truly fabulous new friends, crossed paths with some old near and dear ones as well, cried and held hands and laughed until my freezing cheeks ached, and partied with a rock star! what else could a girl want?

the week in it’s entirety was ca-razy! monday artists circle at scala art center, mid-week trip to nyc, friday night random art workshops at open studio in groton, all amidst the daily hullabaloo and a GSD (getting shit done!… coined by my lovely friend kat ;) work week. somehow it all came to pass without too much fallout. i have to give huge props to my husband who never seems to bat an eyelash at my wayward travels and all-over-the-map work schedule. when it comes to supporting me in chasing my dreams, he has my back all the way without laying on a drop of guilt. that is huge. yes, i’m very lucky.

life is never boring, for that i am certain. sometimes, kind of like alice down the rabbit hole, it helps to just let go into the adventure and free fall through the wild experience of it all. wee!

i have to admit, last week i was stuck in a bit of muck.  just a slow slogging week that really was going nowhere.  and it was fine… i must have needed the downtime so i embraced the urge to put on the brakes for a few days and wouldn’t you know, it did the trick!  as i rounded the bend of the weekend i was up and running again.  ah, thank goodness for that!

work in the new year has been busy and it’s a daily commitment to living this life… long hours, a schedule all over the map, and sacrifices and determination galore.  but the juiciness is there too!  the passion runs deep.  i have been filling the well with Julia Cameron, Sark, and the beckoning whispers of Squam.

last night i met some fabulous people at Scala Art Center while i attended and artists success circle.  at the helm, another intrepid creative community builder.  gotta love connecting with people who share the same passion for this wild and crazy life!  there were artists of all different mediums sharing their passion, work and struggles – a beautiful thing for sure.  there i came across this amazing project by Lynn Shulte, the Pink Chair project, a gorgeous retrospective and remembrance of the passing of her mother in a series of delicious soul-stirring works wrapped around a beautiful story. so inspiring.

i had a bit if an epiphany while there that shed light on what my next step is on the creative path. i need to ask for more help. it’s time.  so i am putting it out to the universe that this is what i am wishing for in this moment, and we will see what manifests. if nothing else, i always have faith in the process.

tomorrow i am off to NYC for a little work and a little play.  i’m meeting up with the soul-tribe all coming into town from various far away places to see this rock star performance at Lincoln Center. it will be a wild and memorable time, without a doubt.  the last time is saw Jonatha perform was with my husband for our 10th anniversary and her music filled my soul.

juicy stuff indeed!

yesterday we took an impromptu walk around Walden Pond, on the hunt for a letterbox and a little adventure. i was craving the outdoors. big time. and this place was perfection. henry david thoreau was the man for sure. while thinking a little about his idyllic creative life and soaking in the beauty of the unmistakable winter sky wrapped in an unseasonable warmth, i felt that deep rhythmic connection ignite.

not to get all woo woo, but it was more than inspiring  this place, hallowed ground in a way, and walking along the path surrounding the pond i felt it was a bit of an ode to the man himself as well as to the dedication to creative living!  to think that someone was so inspired to live in this little corner of the world, and that what he created was so influential and breathtaking had me captivated.  all from a tiny little hut, a slice of natural heaven, and nothing more than his passion for this earth and the words spilling from his soul.

sometimes these last minute, unplanned family adventures are the very best. with walking sticks in hand, clues to find a hidden treasure and the exhilaration of running free under a canopy of blue sky and pine needles, the day was both magic and medicine.

i’m wading my way slowly into this year, letting go and filling up. days like this remind me why we are here… to connect… to create… to find the abundance of joy in the simple things. it is all right here, waiting for us with wide open arms.

so i have been thinking a lot about how i want to commemorate my 40th year since i turn the big four-oh next month.  really, i’m excited!  bring on the gray hairs and the smile lines (ok, i may already have the lines)… but i feel like, hell, i’ve earned them.

40 years in this orbit is a big deal!  i feel like at this age maybe i can finally call myself  “wise”.  half a lifetime lived is not too shabby. i’ve known for a while that i have been aiming for this year… that i didn’t want to hit four decades without feeling like i’ve accomplished something.

and i’m not talking about crossing things off my bucket list (hmm, maybe it’s time to create one)… i’m talking more about aiming for a time in my life where i feel more connected to myself, more in touch with what i want, and more in tune with where i’m going.  i am happy to say that while i have none of the answers in any concrete form, i am exactly where i want to be.  that, in and of itself, is a gift.

i’m deep in it.  my Life (with a capitol ‘L’)… and as imperfect and challenging as it is, and even though it pretty much is kicking my ass on a daily basis, it also is giving me one hell of a ride.  that’s what it’s all about, no? the thrill of the adventure?  to be able to say you really lived. that you’ve chased a dream or two (dozen), fought a few hard won (or lost) battles, Loved like nobody’s business, and learned some big lessons along the way, enough to shift your karma for the next life ;)

this year is special, no doubt.  i’m not entirely sure why… a mid-life milestone, you’re (un)officially all grown-up, caring less about what others think and more about what matters to you, real signs of aging and mortality kick in.  it does feel a bit monumental, but in a good way.

so in honor of this important year, i have decided to give myself the gift of all 365 (or 366, bonus!) days. a year of conscious living… a commitment of doing instead of thinking… taking the necessary steps that i’ve been putting off.

Catch & Release: every week i’m going to let something go… something significant and necessary in order for me to make room for what’s next,  take the next step, to arrive at 41 with a self assured bang not a whimper.  i already know what many of these things will be.  some of them will be easy layers to shed (self care and health related), others will be challenging life-changing necessities (like finally getting those records from the orphanage translated). all the work will be done from the inside out with with deliberate consciousness to make this year memorable one of meaning.

i haven’t quite decided how i will capture it all… in an art journal, in simple words and pics right here, or i loved the idea of creating a year quilt – one square for each month, to make a cozy memento i can wrap my self up in. but i have begun.

after all, time flies and all i have is 52 weeks.

week one.  going veggie (goodbye meat).

more soon…

The Love-Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

By T.S. Eliot

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question. . .                               10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,                               20
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;                                30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—                               40
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all;
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,                       50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?                    60
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
.     .     .     .     .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets              70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
.     .     .     .     .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?                  80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet–and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,                                             90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say, “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,                                           100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”                                          110
.     .     .     .     .

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old . . . I grow old . . .                                              120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown               130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

{read part 1 here}

with so much to be grateful for, so many wonderful life-changing moments and events in 2011, this is a bittersweet goodbye. this year has been a crucible, a test of my own resilience and resolve, a deep inner exploration of how and why. day by day i am still peeling back the layers, the sign of forward momentum even when it feels sometimes i might be standing still. i’m learning how essential this motion is to my life.

to me, the mark of a year is not about what i have accomplished externally, it is more about how i have been able to shift and change within my own molecules and how i feel resting in my own skin. on this last day of 2011, i can tell you that there is work ahead of me. the inner landscape needs tending to. while i am overjoyed and feel blessed by so many facets of my life there is still a restlessness and deep discomfort that needs my attention. there were lots of mirrors this year…events and outcomes that challenged me to show up in ways i either struggled with or prevailed. all these lights and shadows have shown me where the cracks in the foundation are.

part of my self feels deeply connected and nurturing, and i am blessed because i realize how critical these elements are to my very existence. then there are other parts of me that are more disjointed and disconnected and those are the things that are deperately beckoning me as i move into 2012.

after much mulling-over and quiet soul-listening, after whispering different words to myself in my head, i have finally chosen Enough as my word of the year. maybe it was brene’s vulnerability talk that clinched it (which i just happened upon last night), because  i almost thought it was going to be Tend. i really feel the call to active work in so much of what is ahead of me, but Tend was feeling a little too disconnected, too obligatory. so here i am… with Enough. saying it feels just right.

2012 will be about learning what Enough means to me: about what is enough in a practical sense… time, money, resources, support, but mostly it will be about searching for a foothold in the belief that i truly am Enough, am worthy of having enough, and can let go of the fear about not having enough, something that has always been a core component in my life. it’s time to look at it closely once again, and it certainly wont be the last.

yes, there will work and tending too, much of it, but i realize that this is not the goal of my year, the work itself. this year to come is more about reinvesting in how i show up in this world, in the how and why of things, a parallel theme once again showing up in both my personal life and my creative life.  funny how that works.

so goodbye 2011… thank you for all of your blessings. you have been a tough teacher, and i’m grateful for all you have shown me.  i have gathered up all of your lessons and am heading into the new year with clarity and my BIG assignment for 2012. it’s been real.

peace, out.

we are often traveling over the christmas holiday, but this year we are camped out in our own cozy house and laying low for vacation week. as long as there are plenty of blankets and snacks (always snacks), we are happy ;)

my oldest wrote a story for us as our christmas gift, a little book about Holiday Traditions they worked on at school.  i was so happy to read his rendition of how our family celebrates! even though we seem to be on the go and never really doing the same thing from season to season, he still has a wonderful hold on what our traditions are. this made my heart very happy.  i adore holidays just for this reason, for the deep well of cherished family time and those special little things that make these times meaningful to just to us, from year to year. creating experiences is so much a part of what i love!

this year we set up the tent for the kids as a surprise, and filled it with cozy blankets and sleeping bags, their stockings full of goodies, new books, a couple of furry friends, and of course twinkle lights.  it’s their fort for the week and already there are plans for overnight camp-outs, playdates, and pretend adventures. even while we opened gifts on christmas morning, the little guy would take a break between unwrapping and go lay down and snuggle under the stars and planets. i love peeking in there and seeing him so happy and content. big brother is often in there too tucked-in and busily playing, battling bayblades and pokemon. a new tradition perhaps? i think so. a little bit of magic goes a long way!

somehow, this jumble of sparkly letters perfectly illustrates life right now. festive. chaotic. full of possibilities. it was a whirlwind weekend and a hugely successful run for one little Secretary of Labor in his very first full production. the theater community and experience has been such a joyful one for all of us. we had so much fun riding the waves of excitement, along with family members who came from near and far to support our little star as he said his one shiny line “…as Hopes!” (perfect really).  yes, as hopes.

you never know how these things will go, if the emotions will be too much,  if the schedule will be too out of whack, if the positives will outweigh the negatives. in those moments i sometimes forget it’s not really about succeeding or failing, and as i sat in the audience watching his performance on opening night i was just overwhelmed with happiness that he got to be a part of something so wonderful. i love that we all got to be a part of that too. it was pretty magical.

so in the wake of one little boy’s American Dream, and our family’s hopes and excitement over the whole song and dance (literally!), officially… it’s a wrap! i’m am breathing a huge sigh of proud relief. we have all been happily crashed on the couch for the better part of this day, a perfect way to end the weekend. i couldn’t have asked for a better outcome for him.  was it perfect? no. but it was steeped in the rich and fortifying, shiny, good stuff that memorable life experiences are made of. i know he will remember this (as will i) for a very long time.

it’s the holiday season in full swing, it’s family coming to stay, it’s finding time in between, it’s the beauty and the mess all mixed up, it’s everyone’s emotions running wild, it’s the week of opening night, it’s a to do list ridiculously long, it’s twinkle lights and cheer, it’s finding the balance of giving and having and doing, it’s making all the ends meet, it’s compromise and sharing, it’s frost in the grass and fog in the air, it’s remembering to refill my own well, it’s trying again and again, it’s making gifts out of love, it’s gathering with friends old and new, it’s leaning into Hope, it’s the smell of peppermint and pine, it’s reigning in the chaos as best we can, it’s honoring and listening, it’s finding the gratitude in every moment, it’s joy and love and peace and the wonder of it all.

if we make it through this week (and weekend) relatively unscathed, it will be a small miracle… all good things, but jammed packed!  my oldest has his big theater opening this weekend and 7 performances to get through, which means emotions running high, late nights, a schedule that will fly out the window and a need to roll with what the day brings – on top of it, the holiday season winding up and nana and grandpa coming to visit from out of town. yup, a recipe for an unexpectedly wild week!

sometimes i wonder how we make it through each day, one thing piled on top of the other in a mountainous heap we are precariously balancing. but we always do. it may not look pretty at the end of the day, but layered in there is always goodness and sweetness to savor.