tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33737197960745018322024-03-14T00:26:54.162-04:00curious girllisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comBlogger1313125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-40132299022445664922020-02-10T10:51:00.000-05:002020-02-15T13:41:15.431-05:00five good things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDnLs1ee_kxIWOU0mqhlBCzC33ymbKgY519b6mmjlkJ9xIDBONu0ioOtSHv6_Df8KSsUYwt4XT0Vp9uhdStoHepPTHMCZjfEtg06NX7mNRnhS1vWNJk-Napxy3HiSrJ6VflFGnXjPVe4/s1600/84691488_10157207464312799_1236059289634734080_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDnLs1ee_kxIWOU0mqhlBCzC33ymbKgY519b6mmjlkJ9xIDBONu0ioOtSHv6_Df8KSsUYwt4XT0Vp9uhdStoHepPTHMCZjfEtg06NX7mNRnhS1vWNJk-Napxy3HiSrJ6VflFGnXjPVe4/s640/84691488_10157207464312799_1236059289634734080_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">first layers of <i>the magic garden</i> (acrylic, ink, oil pastel, pencil on canvas)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">1. as an introvert, I do my best work alone, but I sure do miss regular exposure to work friends (I’ve been contemplating returning to full time work and work friends are in the “pro” column)</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">2. if there was an award for best tuna salad sandwich I would probably win it</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">3. I want to live in a world where the real life detectives in ‘unbelievable’ get the medal of freedom</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">4. we have so many low-tone chimes around the house that on a windy day I can close my eyes and be transported to a west coast pier. also simon’s bark sounds just like a sea lion, rounding out the daydream</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">5. painting is the gardening of winter</span>lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-45498922156294338352019-07-14T09:52:00.000-04:002019-07-14T09:59:33.412-04:00sunday grace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivqGuh7yRSe7cSgJa49MffZTQTBOXWtL4tgMub3nCUQX9nvhJx5dB32-uTIUh8hlltpWH2-NXwvU9HekP3hyphenhyphenCes3BtmBONg6SzXjhUQ5lYDJV4RlK5hn_0X8G_OxF0yViFprgpF2gOXM/s1600/61D7EF70-B5D4-4EFA-BF68-C638B146C799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivqGuh7yRSe7cSgJa49MffZTQTBOXWtL4tgMub3nCUQX9nvhJx5dB32-uTIUh8hlltpWH2-NXwvU9HekP3hyphenhyphenCes3BtmBONg6SzXjhUQ5lYDJV4RlK5hn_0X8G_OxF0yViFprgpF2gOXM/s640/61D7EF70-B5D4-4EFA-BF68-C638B146C799.JPG" width="512" /></a></div>
<br />
there is a week in summer when caring for the garden becomes less a joy and more a chore. its tendency to delight me by the most mundane of moments--a tiny shoot of life, the seduction of a honey bee, the sun lighting up droplets of water clinging to its petals--is tempered by its insatiable need for maintenance. maintenance that is tender one day and resentful the next.<br />
<br />
the bright newness is replaced by the inevitability of change. the carefree ease gives way to a mindful commitment of care. the energy recalibrates to fuel less the outward show, more the network of roots forged over time that will see it safely through cycles of resignation and hope, spark and smolder, rupture and repair, death and rebirth.<br />
<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-48075773322532644682019-07-12T19:01:00.001-04:002019-07-12T19:01:24.006-04:00summer garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS1uAcTQSa43ib1mj4KQw4u5BOAEvrLRcgbFxw_tYZfqz3y7j4HRk5SQdutlJEMMa5L1hknSL9ERlywR_A_dL4Ruhvy9gAhV4t2ZDVfb2jHXOq06i4jRezPzOGOLnqPvRvgTSueHuvMmI/s1600/mosaic78f6fe142cd45934b3d9248fa246c7c83b24ef2c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="606" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS1uAcTQSa43ib1mj4KQw4u5BOAEvrLRcgbFxw_tYZfqz3y7j4HRk5SQdutlJEMMa5L1hknSL9ERlywR_A_dL4Ruhvy9gAhV4t2ZDVfb2jHXOq06i4jRezPzOGOLnqPvRvgTSueHuvMmI/s640/mosaic78f6fe142cd45934b3d9248fa246c7c83b24ef2c.jpg" width="638" /></a></div>
<br />
watering<br />
planting<br />
deadheading<br />
deer-proofing (ha!)<br />
weeding<br />
bees<br />
bunnies<br />
foxes<br />
chipmunks<br />
woodpeckers<br />
cardinals<br />
drowning in gratitude<br />
magic hour<br />
gardenerlisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-78522097624960426302019-04-03T09:37:00.003-04:002019-04-03T09:37:52.688-04:00dear pinterestplease stop showing me pins that you believe are inspired by my "recent browsing activity". i have never browsed for, nor am i remotely interested in:<br />
<br />
keto bread<br />
keto anything ffs<br />
badly painted faux wood signs/wall hangings<br />
bathroom "art" with bathroom jokes about farting and butts<br />
contouring makeup tutorials<br />
dining room tables that conceal automatic weapons<br />
<br />
please just stop.lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-5551818840056429972019-04-02T20:01:00.001-04:002019-04-02T20:01:21.472-04:00titles of lists i'm contemplatingflowers to grow this year<br />
ways to be generous<br />
things to do instead of look at my phone<br />
bringing me joy<br />
today<br />
dogs i have loved<br />
streets to walk down<br />
<br />
beautiful <a href="http://hulaseventy.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">andrea jenkins</a> has been creating little lists on her blog for a few months. read them. she never fails to make me smile and inspire me. <br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-49029078402278655682019-02-09T08:06:00.002-05:002019-02-09T08:09:56.371-05:00return of the light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHJPBLWoG-maE-W3IFFL10GoEAKQ2U_qhsLxlbdwPWgOCvVBdyhvw0ihzSoRlckdLou5SVJArvWslMOG_9T290hl6Hrn3GmiwTIhF95YzIx6aYIWKFljA9ES5RoXJkUlmWHdpsWKGxzI/s1600/IMG_1346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHJPBLWoG-maE-W3IFFL10GoEAKQ2U_qhsLxlbdwPWgOCvVBdyhvw0ihzSoRlckdLou5SVJArvWslMOG_9T290hl6Hrn3GmiwTIhF95YzIx6aYIWKFljA9ES5RoXJkUlmWHdpsWKGxzI/s640/IMG_1346.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">the dining room in winter light. the art is<i> jupiter and her moons</i>, which i painted this january.</span></div>
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oh hello there. i came over to get a recipe and realized that i have positively abandoned this little blog space. it's been over six months since i've posted. there is nothing earth-shattering or deep to write about, but i feel a wee update is in order:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>we are nearly one week past imbolc, the return of the light, that halfway point between winter and spring solstice. i dreaded the coming of winter. i believed it to be a primary source of my panic and anxiety last year. with some minor hiccups, i've made it through this far without any issues other than some mild insomnia. i'm still practicing most of of the nutrition and wellness routines i established last spring. as we move toward march and the anniversary of my panic, i take one day and night at a time and remember the light will come.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>i am devouring garden catalogs and have placed a huge conifer order that will arrive from the pacific northwest in march. this year we are focusing on carving out another large piece of lawn and converting it to garden. we will also tackle the shady sloped side yard that has so much potential but has been very neglected for a decade. gardening saves me. and while i want to be present in february, i can't help but daydream of june:</li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">magic garden, june 2018</span></div>
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<ul>
<li>this weekend is cold (but partly sunny, so i'll celebrate it). we will spend some time tending to the inside of our home with regular housekeeping and finishing some bigger, not-so-exciting projects like replacing the baseboards. this house has loved me through thick and thin and i plan to return that love through tiny gestures of care.</li>
</ul>
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i hope you are well and safe and loved and can feel the light on your face, wherever you are.</div>
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<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-13526083732677837082018-06-12T12:23:00.002-04:002018-06-12T12:52:56.633-04:00soul food: brainberry ice cream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym8fWlEL__V6Gos5tI1a6xMSK9VY9SAJUgTZwn97iYnt_qUgb6iBmvKu9EYsvjUqp9q11aG48pjJrUGUw67gjhG_XiUi_BNcy22qHfLAz_WoM08sUUbZaUEeav7nK6FUs5s8PkzEr45c/s1600/IMG_8708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym8fWlEL__V6Gos5tI1a6xMSK9VY9SAJUgTZwn97iYnt_qUgb6iBmvKu9EYsvjUqp9q11aG48pjJrUGUw67gjhG_XiUi_BNcy22qHfLAz_WoM08sUUbZaUEeav7nK6FUs5s8PkzEr45c/s640/IMG_8708.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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i heavily relied on nutrition to support my recovery from panic attacks, insomnia, and severe anxiety. and while i <strike>moderately</strike> <strike>enjoy</strike> tolerate my morning green smoothie with kale and mushroom powder, i wanted to find ways i could boost the mood power of yummy comfort food too. as serendipity would have it, this daydream coincided with blueberry season.<br />
<br />
so i concocted a mental health-boosting ice cream.<br />
<br />
we all know that blueberries are the o.g. superfood: high in vitamins, low in calories, anti-inflammatory, antioxidant. turns out that antioxidant mojo can actually clean our mental pathways, sweeping away debris that would otherwise interfere with healthy brain functioning. blueberries have also been shown to increase the levels of serotonin in the brain which may help alleviate depression, especially in trauma survivors. blueberries are also an excellent food to help lower high blood pressure, which for some can co-occur with or be a precursor for anxiety.<br />
<br />
three brain-friendly plants provide extra emotional support here. lemon balm calms the mind and helps relieve stress and anxiety. holy basil (or tulsi) is an adaptogenic herb that can help regulate cortisol levels (adaptogens act differently in humans, depending on the need). the scent of lavender is well-known for its ability to help us relax.<br />
<br />
raw honey is used in place of sugar in this recipe. in ayurvedic medicine honey is used to increase feelings of emotional and mental balance.<br />
<br />
if you add chopped walnuts (either in the ice cream itself or as a topping), your brain is supported even more by the nuts' magnesium and omega 3 fat.<br />
<br />
i'm not a nutritionist so i have no idea if the amount of these foods in the ice cream reach therapeutic levels, and i don't even care because it is just so good. it is sweet and tart and floral and delicious. <br />
<br />
any time i make homemade ice cream i'm reminded of summer cookouts with my family and friends. it takes me right back to being perched on the edge of the pool, wrapped in a towel, feet dangling in the water, eating the amazing vanilla homemade ice cream my mom and dad used to make. it makes me feel better. i am a believer that food can help us heal from all sorts of human maladies.<br />
<br />
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* * * * * </div>
<u><br /></u>
<u>brainberry ice cream</u><br />
makes roughly 6 servings<br />
<br />
1 1/3 cups organic whole milk<br />
1 1/3 cups organic heavy cream<br />
3/4 cups local raw honey<br />
2 tbsp. lavender blossoms<br />
1 tbsp. lemon balm leaves<br />
1 tbsp. holy basil (tulsi) leaves<br />
zest of one lemon<br />
1/4 teaspoon vanilla<br />
small pinch of salt<br />
1 egg, separated<br />
1 cup blueberries (fresh or roasted--fresh will give you an icy bite, roasting for a few minutes will soften the berries and give you a purple-blue ice cream)<br />
1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts (optional)<br />
<br />
1. in a medium saucepan combine the milk, heavy cream, and honey. heat until well combined and warmed through. remove from heat and toss in the lavender, lemon balm, holy basil, and lemon zest to steep. stir in vanilla and the pinch of salt.<br />
2. chill the base for at least 8 hours, or overnight.<br />
3. when you are ready to complete the recipe, strain the cream base. separate the egg and beat egg white until stiff. gently fold into the egg yolk, then fold this into the (strained) cream base. churn according to your machine's instructions. add the blueberries (allow to chill if roasted) and the walnuts (if you are mixing them in the ice cream) in the last five minutes of the churn.<br />
4. transfer into a freezer-safe container, and allow to freeze for 2-4 hours.<br />
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* * * * *</div>
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i hope you make this ice cream and it makes you feel better. please don't confuse this post and recipe with good, sound medical advice. if you are suffering from anxiety, depression, or any other mental or emotional challenge, please consult your doctor, naturopath, therapist, or nutritionist.lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-64453037237337361242018-06-10T07:14:00.000-04:002018-06-10T09:28:51.664-04:00sunday grace: the grace and privilege to heal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
yesterday i wrote about my <a href="http://curiousgirl-lisa.blogspot.com/2018/06/panic-at-disco.html" target="_blank">recent experience with severe anxiety</a> and some practical things i did to make it through. today i want to acknowledge the other side to that healing journey: the unseen elements of flat out grace and the privilege of this life i am living.<br />
<br />
privilege first.<br />
<br />
most of the things that worked for me, that allowed me to shake off the debilitating panic and fear, that helped me calm the explosion of rogue chemicals cursing through my body, were things that i was able to access mostly due to my privilege.<br />
<br />
i have lived a life with access to healthy food, clean air, safe relationships, health insurance. i am allowed and know how to question authority without repercussion. i do not have to think about the possibility of discrimination based on my skin color or sexual identity. i have friends and loved ones who are doctors and therapists and yoga teachers and natural healers and grace-filled poets and good strong trustworthy people. i have access to information. i have financial means to pay for those things my insurance does not cover. i can take time off work.<br />
<br />
these things did not go without notice and gratitude during my experience. many days i considered how much more difficult, <i>if not impossible</i>, healing would have been without them.<br />
<br />
i want to note that during my six emergency room visits, it was wonderful to observe that the doctors and nurses treated everyone with kindness. we were quite the mishmash of humanity up in there in the middle of the night and each of us was met with tenderness and quality care.<br />
<br />
i also want to note that even though i have health insurance, our current system does not recognize the value of alternative care. i paid $3.00 out of pocket for a one month supply of drugs that almost killed me, but my insurance won't cover the nutritional supplements or the acupuncture and those were the things that seemed to make the most difference for me.<br />
<br />
now for the grace.<br />
<br />
grace is when you are pacing the house at 2am and the only thing that can soothe your soul is softly singing that song you sang around the campfire at <a href="https://hume.org/" target="_blank">hume lake</a> when you were 11.<br />
<br />
grace is when your prayer starts with, "i'm sorry, i can't think of anything to be thankful for right now, but i need help." and then you immediately recall all the goodness in your life.<br />
<br />
grace is a loving husband who can work through his own fear of <i>what the hell is wrong with her? </i>and lovingly drive you around for hours every night so you can get to sleep, as one would do for an infant.<br />
<br />
grace is the morning when your eyes open and it has lifted away. you can breathe again. you can live again.<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-33394586523052662362018-06-09T09:52:00.001-04:002018-06-11T08:00:38.106-04:00panic at the disco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>wild heart</i>, by lisa parks. acrylic, ink, paper on wood, 2015.</div>
<br />
earlier this year i experienced a two-month period of panic, anxiety, depression, and chronic insomnia. it came on quickly and unexpectedly and completely derailed my life for a time. i had many nights without sleep, pacing the house and the yard in the dark, attempting to calm my racing heart and fearful mind. during this time i made six visits to the emergency room even though they assured me i wasn't having a heart attack and/or suffocating. (because it felt like a two-month-long heart attack/suffocation.) and i discovered that i could sleep in the emergency room because they were the only ones who could save me should i die. (because i felt like i was about to die for two months.) i really loved all the doctors and nurses in the emergency room. they took such great care of me even though they were likely sick of seeing me there again.<br />
<br />
i tried seven different medications and, with the exception of two (propranolol, a beta blocker, and hydroxyzine, an antihistamine which can control anxiety for some, both non-addictive), <i>they made it all worse</i>. i became curious why the doctors started out with major life-altering and addictive psychotropics (benzodiazepines and antidepressants) before trying these more gentle pharmaceutical options.<br />
<br />
i discovered that my anxiety likes to surprise me by showing up on any given day as irritability, disorientation, rage, hypervigilence, panic, depression, frozen state, or any random combination of these lovely states. i learned that my anxiety may recur or it may never happen again. either way, i changed a lot of things in my life. i was committed to regaining as much of my health as possible.<br />
<br />
here are twenty things i discovered worked for me:<br />
<ul>
<li>reaching out to the people who love me and asking for help or just good company.</li>
<li>holy basil (tulsi) tea. i love this so much, i'm growing holy basil in my garden this year.</li>
<li>reishi mushroom, turmeric, and raw cacao drink before bed (i make my own version now but <a href="https://us.foursigmatic.com/products/fsf-xoco-blue" target="_blank">this</a> drink is what got me started).</li>
<li>vitamin d (i was very deficient).</li>
<li>staying hydrated (the worst panic attack occurred in the middle of the night in a hotel room that was as dry as the sahara desert).</li>
<li>being outside more.</li>
<li>reducing electronic devise blue light two hours before bed.</li>
<li>magnesium cream, a tiny bit rubbed on the bottom of each foot before bed (i use the cream made for children after the adult version oddly triggered jitters on top of my jitters). most americans are deficient in magnesium and it plays a huge part in the healthy operation of the nervous system.</li>
<li><a href="https://www.gaiaherbs.com/products/detail/777/Adrenal-Health-Daily-Support" target="_blank">adrenal supplement</a> with rhodiola, holy basil, and ashwaghanda.</li>
<li>acupuncture.</li>
<li>mindfulness-based cognitive behavioral therapy.</li>
<li>i watched about sixty episodes of <i>friends</i> reruns while i had insomnia (i too was stuck in second gear) and avoided all news and/or shows with anxiety-producing content (which is like, ALL SHOWS).</li>
<li>reducing carbs after lunch; reducing the size of dinner and eating it at least two hours before bedtime.</li>
<li>a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0094HBU6I/ref=oh_aui_detailpage_o04_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1" target="_blank">happy light</a> at least 20 minutes first thing in the morning to regulate cortisol and improve mood.</li>
<li>increased movement.</li>
<li>grounding (bare feet on the earth for at least 20 minutes, i even laid down on the grass and napped a few times).</li>
<li><a href="https://qz.com/993258/dirt-has-a-microbiome-and-it-may-double-as-an-antidepressant/" target="_blank">hands in dirt</a> (things improved significantly once it warmed up and i was able to get in the garden).</li>
<li>4-7-8 breathing (inhale through the nose to a count of 4, hold for 7, exhale through the mouth for 8, repeat four times several times throughout the day). </li>
<li>nightly journaling and gratitude list.</li>
<li>changing my relationship with coffee. i'm now a proud three-quarter decaf drinker supplemented with coconut oil, raw honey, collagen powder, and lion's mane mushroom.</li>
</ul>
<div>
as i write this, i am anxiety-free, sleeping pretty well, and still practicing each of the things on this list. i am medication-free with the exception of 1/4 of the antihistamine dosage at night to help insure sleep. i have hope that this recovery is permanent. and if it's not, i have confidence that these practices can help me through again.<br />
<br />
i know this list is long. some of the things may seem doable for you and others may not. each of us is blessed with a unique body and brain and life circumstances. i tried about 120 different holistic practices and these were the things that worked for me this time. what worked most is that i didn't stop trying.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
if you struggle with anxiety and depression, know that there is help and hope. the heavy <i>this is how my life is going to be from now on</i> feeling is one of the worst things about it. standing on the other side for now, i know that this is a lie. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
the truth is that your life can be even better than it was before.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
more about my experience with anxiety <a href="https://curiousgirl-lisa.blogspot.com/2018/04/sunday-grace-swarm-season.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
i collected lots of resources on a pinterest board<a href="https://www.pinterest.com/lisaparks/ease/" target="_blank"> here</a>.</div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-23497420969022342472018-06-03T11:29:00.001-04:002018-06-06T14:52:51.473-04:00six senses sunday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHXdqcPAK9RUVeiuIzUd71j8vP92PZPxLV-Ld8ijhjZHa4wkDn02OasQ0BcjL2Qi0vwObk4RkoDLnpyvPsngTp04GYWniJ1WWPD2hPYgtSenK6B8_U_AeZL2pOJQjjBF9CyO3iGhr406E/s1600/IMG_8573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHXdqcPAK9RUVeiuIzUd71j8vP92PZPxLV-Ld8ijhjZHa4wkDn02OasQ0BcjL2Qi0vwObk4RkoDLnpyvPsngTp04GYWniJ1WWPD2hPYgtSenK6B8_U_AeZL2pOJQjjBF9CyO3iGhr406E/s640/IMG_8573.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>the flower garden at spikenard bee sanctuary</i></div>
<br />
see<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>the beauty and vision of <a href="https://spikenardfarm.org/" target="_blank">spikenard bee sanctuary</a> in floyd, virginia</li>
<li>i've been documenting wildflowers on walks and hikes for the past few weeks. it's incredible how many more you see when you are tuned in to their existence.</li>
</ul>
<br />
hear<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>rain, rain, and more rain.</li>
<li>my luca dog has gone mostly deaf so he barks all the time now to make sure he covers all his bases. </li>
</ul>
<br />
smell<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>that shot of ozone scent after all the rain.</li>
<li>everything smells positively mossy. </li>
<li>lavender leaves crushed between my fingers.</li>
<li>gardenia blooms and the last of the honeysuckle, so strong and sweet it makes me swoon a bit.</li>
</ul>
<br />
touch<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>weaving plant material on the garden loom.</li>
<li>hands in so much dirt.</li>
</ul>
<br />
taste<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOV9LqnnN26GcZMrTF7Gg2Y_98Zkjp09tXUavSvWqZ9I4qqmLGBCG5ybB1mqYIvEOGqiyQNHZ0CCRTiMyY-YkAKobp8H9jBq9xG5P1vGF3sFwSNqvcrhMuG6Q7Zg5qbPiXrDqax_v2jKk/s1600/IMG_8338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOV9LqnnN26GcZMrTF7Gg2Y_98Zkjp09tXUavSvWqZ9I4qqmLGBCG5ybB1mqYIvEOGqiyQNHZ0CCRTiMyY-YkAKobp8H9jBq9xG5P1vGF3sFwSNqvcrhMuG6Q7Zg5qbPiXrDqax_v2jKk/s640/IMG_8338.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>homemade honeysuckle ice cream </li>
<li>a good old-fashioned moon pie while taking a roadtrip break in fancy gap, virginia</li>
</ul>
<br />
know<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>a soft sense of moving in the right direction.</li>
<li>the grace of easing up.</li>
<li>a sense of safety, knowing folks care.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-15626889328678877862018-04-22T05:00:00.000-04:002018-04-22T10:28:53.890-04:00sunday grace: swarm season<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2Sd9E07nv2W6Ba_B5Ic_QCWwHkdDCWT2UxMHFcUOtx6vm9Mk2KXQjTdA3hA_zMZmv5AQ4S5lcZHw3BidmHkP01WjagpxMQIcu37vswz7p60i5i6I3yn5Nxb0IgecLMlO2l-SDP_mDDY/s1600/swarm+season.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2Sd9E07nv2W6Ba_B5Ic_QCWwHkdDCWT2UxMHFcUOtx6vm9Mk2KXQjTdA3hA_zMZmv5AQ4S5lcZHw3BidmHkP01WjagpxMQIcu37vswz7p60i5i6I3yn5Nxb0IgecLMlO2l-SDP_mDDY/s640/swarm+season.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>swarm season</i>. acrylic, ink, paper on wood. april 2018.</span></div>
<br />
there are specific times of the year when bees and birds and butterflies swarm, drawn together in a seemingly chaotic instinct to find their place. i read an article that described swarms and on that day i felt all my worries, fears, regrets, and shame had similarly swarmed in my body, frantically congregating in crowded quarters beneath my rib cage.<br />
<br />
this year i have experienced an unexplained and sudden onset of panic attacks, chronic high anxiety, and insomnia. during the past month i have essentially been disabled by this, unable to work, drive, be alone, eat, or sleep. my life was hijacked. even though my panic mostly feels like an infestation of hungry invaders, i have reframed the urgent fluttering presence in my body as my swarm.<br />
<br />
there is no apparent root cause (no situation or event) that we have landed on yet. could be cumulative stress or secondary traumatic stress, could be hormones, could be sensitivity to the growing collective anxiety in our world, could be genetic, and on and on...<br />
<br />
i want to write more on the ways i managed the worst of days when i was overcome with fear and energy, because i know it can be helpful for others to read (especially for those like me who are sensitive to medication and have a desire to go the most natural route possible). i'm not in that space yet. i'm still barely hanging on over here, trying to remain an objective observer to this madness and focus on the day when the swarm moves on.<br />
<br />
with all dark days, there are moments of light. even though it has been hard to see and acknowledge, some goodness has come from this. this is the grace (and quite possibly the purpose) of swarm season: attention, vulnerability, deciding to do things differently. here are a few moments of swarm grace:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>i cut out caffeine and it was relatively painless. all the cortisol and adrenaline cursing through my veins cushioned the typical withdrawal symptoms. after decades of two cups of strong coffee daily, i am now enjoying one cup of swiss water processed decaf every morning.</li>
<li>i asked for help. and not just for help, i asked for exactly what i needed. and you know what? people responded in the most loving and supportive ways. </li>
<li>i finally got it that i really do need other people. </li>
<li>i cleaned up my nutrition. </li>
<li>the breath is fucking magic. magic.</li>
<li>i have an entirely new appreciation for the exquisite beauty of an ordinary day, a night of sleep, someone who holds your hand, people who know things, people who are able to hold space.</li>
</ul>
<div>
here's looking forward to the day the swarm has done its thing and lifts in gentle flight.</div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-76261085103265603732017-12-17T06:33:00.001-05:002017-12-17T06:33:41.634-05:00sunday grace: solstice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2H1Z78n3wJqEclDEEG1MRMUCcjiu4FSBNmyzKkzR2wYeANTEvOmIlf_Wz1E7cmz2rBzG_YH3Uvg_x61YQoKh9H9KtgoOhqSrKRpKLRzpDY-LHoRe6KfPZewPrftR7vBhy2vsghZmTYU/s1600/soul+kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2H1Z78n3wJqEclDEEG1MRMUCcjiu4FSBNmyzKkzR2wYeANTEvOmIlf_Wz1E7cmz2rBzG_YH3Uvg_x61YQoKh9H9KtgoOhqSrKRpKLRzpDY-LHoRe6KfPZewPrftR7vBhy2vsghZmTYU/s640/soul+kitchen.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">december morning sun in the kitchen on gypsy hill</span></div>
<br />
the winter solstice arrives this week on december 21st (for those of us in the northern hemisphere). it is one of my favorite times of year, this point in time when we teeter on the edge of darkness and light. from the latin sol (sun) and sistere (to stand still), solstice is a moment to become still and reflect on the past, release that which no longer serves, and prepare for what is to come. we see and hear the wisdom of nature: darkness relieves us of our capacity for busyness, animals rest, snowfall brings its exquisite hush.<br />
<br />
there are so many ways to recognize this tender transition. here are a few of my favorites:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>create a tiny solstice altar with candles (symbolizing light), photos of ancestors (symbolizing the past), and bits of spruce, pine, or juniper (evergreens symbolize life during winter).</li>
<li>reflect in your journal: what were your accomplishments, lessons, and losses during the past year? what are your best hopes for the year to come?</li>
<li>burn a solstice fire. on a piece of paper, write down something you would like to let go. put it in the fire and see it dissolve in spark and smoke.</li>
<li>join a community celebration. we will be gathering with our local waldorf cooperative at a community potluck, solstice spiral, and bonfire where the children will be reading their poetry.</li>
<li>no matter the weather, place your bare feet on the ground outside at night. simultaneously sense the solid support of the earth and vast unseen possibility of the dark sky.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
happy solstice friends. i wish you just enough darkness to see the stars and perfect light to illuminate your beautiful life.</div>
<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-22805638101660421532017-11-25T05:00:00.000-05:002017-11-25T06:04:10.570-05:00six senses saturday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcSaatozMSzpiXq2BiDCUlgy2P-OY2WxshZvQU12SryS1B7A8BvECayQzpiwBMuDWCheqLTH5GcT1IT1qfvlkp2-9ywhPX8KPZMdImwkClaFfBn_im6ZeTbKW6raLM05DvUlDx5Pm63kc/s1600/IMG_5963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1464" data-original-width="1464" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcSaatozMSzpiXq2BiDCUlgy2P-OY2WxshZvQU12SryS1B7A8BvECayQzpiwBMuDWCheqLTH5GcT1IT1qfvlkp2-9ywhPX8KPZMdImwkClaFfBn_im6ZeTbKW6raLM05DvUlDx5Pm63kc/s640/IMG_5963.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
welcome to christmas at gypsy hill</div>
<br />
<br />
see<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://a24films.com/films/lady-bird" target="_blank">lady bird</a></li>
<li>a lifetime of christmases as i open each box of the vintage ornaments.</li>
</ul>
hear<br />
<div>
<ul>
<li>swooshing through piles of raked leaves.</li>
<li>the tiny bells on the handmade wreath when the front door opens.</li>
</ul>
<div>
taste</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>thank you, turkey, for thanksgiving dinner, leftovers for days, and four quarts of medicinal bone broth.</li>
<li>i ate a mashed potato sandwich on friday (leftover potatoes on a squishy roll). and it was amazing.</li>
</ul>
<div>
touch</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>putting things away.</li>
<li>giving things away.</li>
<li>throwing things away.</li>
</ul>
<div>
smell</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>december on my skin, as the boughs of pine and spruce and juniper are cut and tied together.</li>
</ul>
<div>
know</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>gratitude runs deeper than a list when you value the dark, the light, the mistakes, the triumphs, the loss, and the love.</li>
<li>translating the qualities of presence for an upcoming class i'm teaching, noticing the nuances of what it means to be attuned to now.</li>
</ul>
</div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-37065173013292109952017-11-18T17:39:00.001-05:002017-11-18T17:42:14.265-05:00six senses saturday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-4aEpqAJO0skGbVjaaCd86TJqBcUGiiHdx-EDz1vXstk8GS847C2EGSjE4OQK24gbtRvKo0cezhkxFjxTdHy-_YYdA-9lwrBL9EDd8xLdt9jmHUXo_FLgT-1a331Bq3EWoSP5sMSA1I/s1600/IMG_5858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-4aEpqAJO0skGbVjaaCd86TJqBcUGiiHdx-EDz1vXstk8GS847C2EGSjE4OQK24gbtRvKo0cezhkxFjxTdHy-_YYdA-9lwrBL9EDd8xLdt9jmHUXo_FLgT-1a331Bq3EWoSP5sMSA1I/s640/IMG_5858.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
see<br />
<ul>
<li>this amazing green velvet. we recovered the mid-century dining room chairs.</li>
</ul>
hear<br />
<div>
<ul>
<li>i turned down a public event with ken this weekend, saying, "i'm kind of done with people." he laughed and said that sounded like the antidote to "up with people". since then we've been rewriting with "up with people" songs with a soft, cozy, quiet, introvert's perspective. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
taste</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>i realize that i need to taste something new and amazing each week if i'm going to be keeping up with this series. honestly, there is nothing more sad than a week with no memorable tastes.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
smell</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>burning leaves.</li>
<li>peeled grapefruit.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
touch</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>my old dog luca is stuck to me like glue lately. he always wants to be touching me. i don't want to think about what this means, but i'm happy to place my hand on his curly mess of dog body any old time.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
know</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>this morning's new moon in scorpio has me all kinds of mystic. i can't help but see synchronicity and connection in the tiniest of things.</li>
<li>i had an epic dream earlier this week that was poetic and scary and beautiful and wonky and telling.</li>
</ul>
</div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-63060203698167231072017-11-04T10:23:00.001-04:002017-11-18T17:40:47.282-05:00six senses saturday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16sR4vFSiZ_bFDHGzx3x7-hQ_6Rr3oKy-keUHq8uWH6Kv_agRfMOC5ByRFJ2UltQlsDM7uyNIiVx4VrgseK6Bxx0tXGodXRDMMTu2TQYEXkNeTG3-Y6heS852gCW8cGHEdh87BfxRCZs/s1600/IMG_5781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16sR4vFSiZ_bFDHGzx3x7-hQ_6Rr3oKy-keUHq8uWH6Kv_agRfMOC5ByRFJ2UltQlsDM7uyNIiVx4VrgseK6Bxx0tXGodXRDMMTu2TQYEXkNeTG3-Y6heS852gCW8cGHEdh87BfxRCZs/s640/IMG_5781.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
see<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>a wee brown bat has roosted in the tiny space between the storm glass and the screen of our bedroom window. </li>
<li>on my friday morning commute a giant amber moon set in the direction of my destination while a fluorescent pink sun rose over my home behind me.</li>
<li>autumn leaves. evidence that this earth, this life, always offers exquisite respites from suffering.</li>
</ul>
<div>
hear</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>having a cars moment, <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=the+cars+let%27s+go&stick=H4sIAAAAAAAAAONgFuLUz9U3MEqrKstWAjNzCszzcrVEs5Ot9HNLizOT9RNzkkpzrYrz89KLAauNedMvAAAA&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiY3eT3iqXXAhXHYyYKHdc-ARMQri4IpAEwEw&biw=1536&bih=734" target="_blank">candy-o</a> on repeat over here.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
taste</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>roasted brussels spouts</li>
<li>honeycrisp apples</li>
<li>whisky</li>
</ul>
<div>
smell</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>backyard fire</li>
<li>smoke of just-extinguished candles</li>
<li>that heater-just-came-on-for-the-first-time smell</li>
</ul>
<div>
touch</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>cushy new sweater</li>
<li>the prick of the needles during topiary shaping</li>
</ul>
<div>
know</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>the bat is a visitor (not sure who)</li>
<li>deep sense of settling down, time to rest, inward-bound</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
six senses saturday is a revival of <a href="http://curiousgirl-lisa.blogspot.com/search/label/five%20senses%20friday" target="_blank"><b>five senses friday</b></a>, a regular way to note how my senses were delighted and challenged during the week with the addition of intuition.</div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-78124906049094732382017-10-01T05:00:00.000-04:002017-10-01T05:00:30.680-04:00sunday grace: a blessing for the feast of st. therese of lisieux<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11DGD5BEoeMTND9mo_xzi88Q5CdCXmGGtWmO-MRXQhjHQg8B7Yewj-_5R4_jAMsLIpUNe-8VkTzvdjchXW-_64QQr9EawJQQbpCy8Xq0y5Yess0crzpoC14fbPCPUNVO-DAigoQQ44z0/s1600/IMG_5374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11DGD5BEoeMTND9mo_xzi88Q5CdCXmGGtWmO-MRXQhjHQg8B7Yewj-_5R4_jAMsLIpUNe-8VkTzvdjchXW-_64QQr9EawJQQbpCy8Xq0y5Yess0crzpoC14fbPCPUNVO-DAigoQQ44z0/s640/IMG_5374.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
blessed be the wildflowers who stand magnificent but unnoticed in a world of glittered supermarket chrysanthemums.<br />
blessed be the sensitive souls, the tender hearts, the triggered.<br />
blessed be the empaths, the listeners, the reciters of plath and cobain.<br />
blessed be the little girls who bring home strays and hide them away in the garage, sneaking them scraps of dinner and carefully making a nest of old beach towels on the concrete floor. <br />
blessed be the boys of poetry and music and dance and kindness. (good god, protect them in this place of narrowly and brutally defined "man".)<br />
blessed be the ones who choose depth over breadth. <br />
blessed be the loners, the hopeful, those who see beyond this moment, this day, this world.<br />
blessed be the truth-tellers, the secret-keepers.<br />
blessed be the those whose skin registers the subtle sea change of a room when sadness enters.<br />
blessed be the misfits. <br />
blessed be the solitary tidepool explorers, foreign film seers, 2 a.m. taco truck diners.<br />
blessed be the forgivers.<br />
blessed be those whose hearts break open at the suffering of others.<br />
blessed be those whose second language is sky, or preschooler, or unspoken emotion.<br />
blessed be the unloved, the forgotten.<br />
blessed be the childless who mother and father beasts and ideas and gardens and communities instead.<br />
blessed be the true.<br />
blessed be the wildflowers.<br />
<br />
· · · · ·<br />
<br />
the feast of st. therese of lisieux (the little flower) is october 2. <br />
<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-71591054952823507192017-08-10T04:47:00.000-04:002017-08-23T17:50:09.907-04:00tiny ghost stories <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0pBBM-IeRFMWt40gMt1uHVimxdL9I23ptWHNaLB5JMwnGqMYmN-riCBraGhS1aSyDx2A1QPdxQJseKR4w0o5UqHk3CkhhP1g9E2Rb7bv6k3ObCPg0B3ozvfxdhPO-GobanBhdlWLT7k/s1600/wyatt+and+daughter+lou+attie+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="404" height="632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0pBBM-IeRFMWt40gMt1uHVimxdL9I23ptWHNaLB5JMwnGqMYmN-riCBraGhS1aSyDx2A1QPdxQJseKR4w0o5UqHk3CkhhP1g9E2Rb7bv6k3ObCPg0B3ozvfxdhPO-GobanBhdlWLT7k/s640/wyatt+and+daughter+lou+attie+crop.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
over here i am deep in the stories of my ancestors.<br />
<br />
this personal history work feels urgent right now, so i am meeting that urgency and exploring my lineage.<br />
<br />
i had no idea how a sense of curiosity, good research skills, a subscription to an online geneology service, and a dna test would bring together these pieces of me. i've been consumed with uncovering the lives of those who came before me. each new find opens a new (old) chapter and another piece that feels familiar and known and lived is clicked into place.<br />
<br />
there are mysteries to be sure, and stories yet to unearth, but these are undeniably my people. they are scots and quakers and apaches; immigrants and pioneers and mothers. they are warriors and english ladies, farmers and teachers; seekers of gold, seekers of survival. there is love and adventure and murder and mad life skills. their trauma and their resilience <a href="http://discovermagazine.com/2013/may/13-grandmas-experiences-leave-epigenetic-mark-on-your-genes" target="_blank">live in my dna</a>. i was shaped by each of them, biologically and spiritually. <br />
i hope my life honors theirs.<br />
<br />
here are a few tiny stories, in no particular order:<br />
<br />
elizabeth, b.1731: not to be out-badassed by her little brother (wilderness hero daniel boone) elizabeth was a courageous human in her own right. her family lived within a fort deep in indian territory. they learned of an impending raid and wanted to give the natives the impression that they were unsuspecting, so daily fort life had to appear normal. protected only by her wits and nerves of steel, elizabeth led a small group of brave girls from the safety of the fort to fetch water at a distant river, like they did every single day, with the knowledge that the indians were lying in wait, watching them. this show of faux obliviousness boosted the confidence of the marauders and they attacked that night, and were met with a well-prepared and ultimately successful defense.<br />
<br />
william, b.1725: raised in the scottish highlands, william was a jacobite rebel, fought in and survived the battle of culloden. he came to north america shortly after.<br />
<br />
alzira, b.1830: graced with dark exotic beauty and a foreign name, alzira made the covered wagon journey to san francisco during the gold rush with a months-old infant. failing to strike gold, her young family settled on one thousand acres in sonoma county to work the golden land instead. her husband died in california and she returned east to be with her family. she had four husbands in her lifetime. <br />
<br />
uncle cy, b.1903: the "turkey king of oklahoma". enough said.<br />
<br />
wyatt, b.1856: wyatt was a cattle rancher in indian territory. he was killed in a saloon shootout and his case was the first murder trial held in indian territory.<br />
<br />
mollie, b.1860: mollie was accidentally shot by wyatt and carried a bullet in her shoulder the rest of her long life. <br />
<br />
john, b.1578: schooled at oxford and cambridge, john had a "reputation for learning" and spent some time in "the clink" in london for pesky "independent thought". he migrated to north america in 1634 aboard the griffin, his only recorded luggage: "his books".<br />
<br />
sarah, b.1646: lived to age eighty, which was an accomplishment in the 18th century, and was noted in historical publications as "never had an aching bone or decayed tooth."<br />
<br />
sea deliverance, b.1744: she only lived one year, but pretty much has the best name ever.<br />
<br />
_____<br />
<br />
also: <a href="http://curiousgirl-lisa.blogspot.com/2015/05/sunday-grace-where-im-from.html" target="_blank">where i'm from</a><br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-15264875179082288322017-06-18T06:46:00.000-04:002017-06-18T06:49:07.134-04:00sunday grace: the grace of beginning again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpz20-gTX2d72nYTj44UI0ZQJ8jnEuJS0aBIoVv-rFUDxzsckrd3iGf6xRiStXb1a7Pztl-B5_B9Uf6KXHNVnrI60hx-8-8T5a4kwFy9DBaauZQ3KY2V1RBEqeagdWNhB3q7afQIePPc/s1600/soulstudio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1200" height="632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpz20-gTX2d72nYTj44UI0ZQJ8jnEuJS0aBIoVv-rFUDxzsckrd3iGf6xRiStXb1a7Pztl-B5_B9Uf6KXHNVnrI60hx-8-8T5a4kwFy9DBaauZQ3KY2V1RBEqeagdWNhB3q7afQIePPc/s640/soulstudio.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
in this moment, irregardless of the chaos or confusion or exhaustion or despair, the option to begin again is available to us. even if it's the fourth beginning today. this option comes with each breath until the moment our breathing ceases. the breath is our regular reminder to clear the table of the debris of failure (actual or perceived), stupid words, careless deeds, worn out ideas of who we are. the breath is our regular reminder to see with new eyes, love with an open heart, and take a first step into our ordinary brilliance.<br />
<br />
"a friend. is someone who supports your breath." -nayyirah waheedlisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-80042261790763839852017-05-30T08:07:00.000-04:002017-05-31T10:27:47.860-04:00dear baby girls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LXUhSTokQn4g0sOOQSTwDDo34NRIUy-Dg7-gNvIHwoyFWO_tE8wprVUR9RgeCZArpXDD3Y4x3x2vscuZ0u0v1ezQotbkdrl2VNrLMKWlc6ZRkPjda4998S7i-PjItCQPkrYnzlzYIE4/s1600/IMG_3968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LXUhSTokQn4g0sOOQSTwDDo34NRIUy-Dg7-gNvIHwoyFWO_tE8wprVUR9RgeCZArpXDD3Y4x3x2vscuZ0u0v1ezQotbkdrl2VNrLMKWlc6ZRkPjda4998S7i-PjItCQPkrYnzlzYIE4/s640/IMG_3968.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">mia and me, u.c.l.a. medical center neonatal intensive care unit, summer 1985</span></div>
<br />
thank you for being my greatest teachers.<br />
<br />
thank you for your continued love, despite the way i fumbled through this work of being a mom with equal measure of good intentions and immature nonchalance. <br />
<br />
thank you for knowing in your souls what was not yet known to me on a physical level, those things i did not know how to produce via acts or words. (in other words, thank you for still loving me when i had no fucking idea what to do or how to do it.)<br />
<br />
thank you for showing me how to be vulnerable and courageous at the same time. <br />
<br />
thank you for helping me learn that love is not a grand emotion, but the act of being present, whether broken or whole, in the most infinitesimal and inconvenient moments.<br />
<br />
thank you for teaching me about trauma and trusting me with your own.<br />
<br />
thank you for your graciousness when we cobbled together meals from a $1 package of tortillas, government cheese, zucchini and tomatoes gifted from candy's garden next door; when entertainment was day-upon-day of nature walks and sidewalk scavenger hunts and reading aloud from the stack of overdue library books as the evening sun streamed through the kitchen window at the little yellow house on kenny street.<br />
<br />
thank you for huddling up close in bed on those nights the police helicopter lingered a bit too long over our block, the whack-whack-whack of the blades chopping through earned moments of peace, the searchlights over-illuminating the danger in our lives. i had to practice bravery on those nights; the animal warmth of your body, the rhythm of your heart next to my skin, the awkward child length of your limbs simultaneously reaching for and pushing away my own gave me the impetus.<br />
<br />
thank you for your patience and for letting me grow up with you.<br />
<br />
thank you for the belief you hold in your heart that those who face and endure more challenges than the average bear arrive on the other side with a greater depth and capacity for joy, empathy, connection.<br />
<br />
thank you for your forgiveness when i didn't always make the best decisions.<br />
<br />
thank you for being exactly who you were at the time, who you are today.<br />
<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-19180492924514647382017-05-28T08:44:00.000-04:002017-05-30T07:14:40.133-04:00sunday grace: how to be remembered<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjABhfl9KozhmAzlriP2F28J9o62UcNBatUbhPa-HJify6WgE90NxLoNLu_5RRCqMQdQxeE48YL6PvTW3kb73lxzOtsJvkaQT2oh_Uh1qoxPVM5DMr56aTZZrngE5MEH5bLdO2l2wpjeYI/s1600/IMG_3945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="720" height="634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjABhfl9KozhmAzlriP2F28J9o62UcNBatUbhPa-HJify6WgE90NxLoNLu_5RRCqMQdQxeE48YL6PvTW3kb73lxzOtsJvkaQT2oh_Uh1qoxPVM5DMr56aTZZrngE5MEH5bLdO2l2wpjeYI/s640/IMG_3945.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">friends, <i>why</i> did it take me so long to get my hands on <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Our-World-Mary-Oliver/dp/0807068810/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=" target="_blank">our world</a></i>, by mary oliver? in its pages the poet remembers and honors her beloved. something real and raw resonated here, in the words she uses to describe her love. talk about #lifegoals. i will have considered my earth mission complete if one were to think of me like this:</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she "had will and wit and probably too much empathy for others; she was quick in speech and she did not suffer fools. when you knew her she was unconditionally kind. but also...you had to be brave to get to know her. </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">she was style, and she was an old loneliness that nothing could quite wipe away; she was vastly knowledgeable about people, about books, about the mind’s emotions and the heart’s. she lived sometimes in a black box of memories and unanswerable questions, and then would come out and frolic — be feisty, and bold."</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">it really got me thinking about how else i would want to be remembered (and honestly, there wasn't much to add). thinking about this was a fantastic exercise in life clarification:</span></span></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she would walk into the mess with you in a heartbeat</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">her home reflected the world she wished to live in: colorful, quirky, diverse, full of life and the endless possibility of transformation, safe and peaceful, even if a bit disordered on occasion.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she stood with children and the vulnerable.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she stood against those who harmed others, who treated others unjustly, who used others for their own advancement.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she did not tolerate narcissists, large-scale or small, nor those who willfully looked away from examining the complexities of life.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she cherished true belonging while maintaining comfort in the roles of <i>loner</i>, <i>misfit</i>, <i>outsider</i>, <i>rebel</i>.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she celebrated and attended to the details, both beautiful and mundane, while never losing sight of the big picture.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she loved art and dogs and sunsets and mountains, california wildflowers and the bracing cold fury of the pacific ocean.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">she never outgrew being read to.</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">#workinprogress</span></div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-86828221971694436262017-05-23T07:27:00.005-04:002017-05-23T07:28:57.782-04:00life lately<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbCLJuU6_s0qlcVgzAW1V2Afcn2JVEBZMFbDIDXRMv1NSu29Cy-Eo9mEvyGoAukAhyphenhyphenHFvbkuOhBj-aXW_d2U-aQX-ggnmJAeXWKzQMznF3wKU1fgg8UY6RpAEh6OyVXPx3v88W2iTKiE/s1600/mosaic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbCLJuU6_s0qlcVgzAW1V2Afcn2JVEBZMFbDIDXRMv1NSu29Cy-Eo9mEvyGoAukAhyphenhyphenHFvbkuOhBj-aXW_d2U-aQX-ggnmJAeXWKzQMznF3wKU1fgg8UY6RpAEh6OyVXPx3v88W2iTKiE/s640/mosaic.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
is tender and handmade, fur and poetry, sunshine and tears, tarot and flowers.lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-8074247413603779682017-05-14T06:37:00.002-04:002017-05-14T09:17:07.164-04:00sunday grace: the grace of losing my religion (part one)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0wq-niN_9Cgg_lrItupWCwpiubWFPgqI1gcZDnGWpjpkJhQ2iN7IzyP6rPugvWkDMEe9d3uhyphenhyphenpcR_HJtJka0NhUv5HyfJN2aYo986Vmejc9dmbf1hm2N8DwiNG7PASXp7brW60KDQJ0/s1600/photo6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0wq-niN_9Cgg_lrItupWCwpiubWFPgqI1gcZDnGWpjpkJhQ2iN7IzyP6rPugvWkDMEe9d3uhyphenhyphenpcR_HJtJka0NhUv5HyfJN2aYo986Vmejc9dmbf1hm2N8DwiNG7PASXp7brW60KDQJ0/s640/photo6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>spanish head composition</i> by george condo, 1988. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(captured by me at moma, 2013)</span></div>
<br />
it is not easy when i call out, talk about, and resist the epidemic of <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/mercynotsacrifice/2017/01/24/five-alternativefacts-toxic-christianity/" target="_blank">toxic christianity</a>. i was raised a christian in a small baptist church in a conservative town in california. i have felt the deep love of jesus, the sense of belonging that comes with being one of a 'flock', the accomplishment of learning and knowing the bible (ahem, junior bible verse champion over here!), the joy of singing <i>peace like a river</i> with twenty friends around a campfire at <a href="https://hume.org/hume-lake/youth-camps/" target="_blank">hume lake</a>.<br />
<br />
so many people i know and love are true christians. christianity is part of who i am, even if i no longer identify with the religion. <br />
<br />
the thing that pushed me away from christianty was not the thing we were all warned about by our christian parents. it was christians who pushed me away. <br />
<br />
it was the christians who told me to stop thinking. to stop dancing. to stop asking. to stop being angry (or insert any other human feeling). to stop loving people (especially <i>those who were different</i>). <br />
<br />
it was the christians who chose to pretend the child sexual abuser in our midst could not possibly have done what the children said, because he was <i>such a good christian</i>.<br />
<br />
it was the christians who preached kindness, but were the cruelest people i've ever met.<br />
<br />
who preached forgiveness, but held massive grudges.<br />
<br />
who preached mercy, but were steadfastly merciless.<br />
<br />
who preached courage, but were astonishingly afraid of life.<br />
<br />
who preached grace, but were devoid of it.<br />
<br />
it was those who silenced me when i tried to talk about how being christian meant living the values of jesus. as humans. on this planet. with others who may be living a different set of values. <br />
<br />
it was those who implicitly and explicitly ordered a girl who was organically interested in those who were different, to stop doing that.<br />
<br />
but more than all that, it was the christians who saw all of this, who may not have done these things themselves, but <i>chose to ignore it,</i> who pushed me away. it was those who, for whatever reasons (fear, denial, etc.), were silently complicit in the oppression that scared me the most.<br />
<br />
as a girl growing up in the baptist church, my sense of self was dismissed, my empathy mocked, my intuition called 'dangerous'. very early on, i associated my very strong empathy and intuition to the voice of the holy spirit herself; to be told that was wrong was crushing and confusing and rendered me lost.<br />
<br />
i was told that safety is achieved through restriction and control, rather than thinking, exploring, reflecting, regrouping, practicing, learning to set healthy boundaries. the message was loud and clear: you need not develop personal power and agency, safety is your reward for adhering to these rules. <br />
<br />
later in life, as a social worker (and a woman who continued to think and explore despite the embedded fear of hellfire), i learned that these are the characteristics that describe toxic people. these are the people we should be avoiding in life in order to be safe humans. these are the people who hurt others, who seek control through manipulation, who wield fear and power and duplicity with a smile.<br />
<br />
all of this is to establish the foundation for my deep concern about direction of the evangelical movement in the christian church. i want you to know that my protest of toxic christianity comes from a place of knowing and experiencing, not just reacting. i want you to know that they are dangerous, on an individual level and now, to the freedom and peace of our nation.<br />
<br />
i believe that the most powerful way to stop them is for true christians to speak up. to stop ignoring. to stop silencing. to stop accepting the hatred and control as an extreme interpretation of the bible. <br />
<br />
seriously, what would jesus do? let's do that.<br />
<br />
_____<br />
<br />
in part two, i write about what it's like for me to live in lynchburg, virginia, home to jerry falwell's liberty university and its associated mega-church (so, say you were a toxic christian...this would be your mecca). <br />
<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-91812134551800219812017-05-07T09:40:00.001-04:002017-05-07T09:40:16.439-04:00resiliency toolkit: grace is tiny<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM1IG4S31beOjVHvbL-PiINxfjq_tULP_bDvvDSXqWVxVTwSgkhyR98p1O-RjXHO1_QOm_y5qPHgq4DtASd6ZskYNDYOT3UUWlRagY37w98QrIUgpmIm098g4RDz4aYF4pD1y6DCC4oGg/s1600/13151877_10153640447062799_9072071628799058210_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM1IG4S31beOjVHvbL-PiINxfjq_tULP_bDvvDSXqWVxVTwSgkhyR98p1O-RjXHO1_QOm_y5qPHgq4DtASd6ZskYNDYOT3UUWlRagY37w98QrIUgpmIm098g4RDz4aYF4pD1y6DCC4oGg/s640/13151877_10153640447062799_9072071628799058210_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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those moments and gestures of grace that save us, they are typically not grand. they are often so small that we might not even feel them if we are not present and paying attention. this particular week they looked and sounded like this:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>an accidental yoga sequence that is rocking my world</li>
<li>jasmine, sprouting up and blooming in unintended places, scenting me home to california</li>
<li>"being a flawed ally is really the only way to be a true ally, i appreciate your humility."</li>
<li>facebook is not really functioning well, so i am there less and allowing myself to be organically weaned from the fucking nonsense while maintaining the meaningful connections</li>
</ul>
<div>
and on the regular:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>that first cup of coffee</li>
<li>falling asleep to a story read aloud</li>
<li>the steady loyalty of my dog luca</li>
<li>slow living: leaving behind busyness and multitasking and overscheduling and any remaining needs to be seen and approved of</li>
<li>when the smoke from incense or burning sage fills the room and the sun beams upon its swirling magic</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
(tiny ganesha was captured at the sublime bedford yoga studio)</div>
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<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-90561868326713054982017-04-10T07:26:00.002-04:002017-04-10T08:56:23.559-04:00resiliency toolkit: create something <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgILsjHQY-vUsZJ2ZQ3z0wijVzE_Z9S3YXEip_i4k7hMb0o3aid17EWlRWnMP_pPepZ_H8xC3ZRL7iQ3cagXR9gRVYZrpTjgkiGO83FiL6gTI-xhEWgvapmS2pLLqI7IbBwRZAzDTJqHqA/s1600/mosaic189a498384c8afc9318e613e4485a4da5b4dc35d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgILsjHQY-vUsZJ2ZQ3z0wijVzE_Z9S3YXEip_i4k7hMb0o3aid17EWlRWnMP_pPepZ_H8xC3ZRL7iQ3cagXR9gRVYZrpTjgkiGO83FiL6gTI-xhEWgvapmS2pLLqI7IbBwRZAzDTJqHqA/s640/mosaic189a498384c8afc9318e613e4485a4da5b4dc35d.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">some things i'm currently making: a painting, an outdoor oasis, a mala, a mural</span></div>
<br />
building resiliency and regulation in our everyday lives is an essential life skill. there are many exercises and brain games we can learn to self-regulate after stress or trauma that are taught in specialized courses (and they are amazing). <br />
<br />
often the most effective methods of regulation are built into our everyday lives. you are likely already doing them. being more intentional about naming them <i>self-care</i> and doing them on the regular (like every day) will go a long way to serve your body and soul and smooth out that hilly ride between sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems.<br />
<br />
you've seen the "how to take care of yourself lists", right? these activities are great, but sometimes they don't appeal to certain personalities or lifestyles. i like to think of resiliency-building occurring within four broad domains: creativity, reflection, movement, and connection. simply define how you care for yourself on the regular within these four domains and then mindfully do them.<br />
<br />
let's start with creativity.<br />
<br />
i am an artist, so making art is a huge part of this domain for me. but let me make this perfectly clear: <i>you do not have to be an artist or do art to be creative</i>. think of creativity as building or growing something positive, whether it's dinner, a poem, a garden, a song, a child, a home, a machine (you get the picture). <br />
<br />
creating something employs the opposite energy of destruction. so much of our stress and trauma are about things being destroyed, whether it's a carefully scheduled day or the planet. use your creative energy to balance that. practicing creativity on a daily basis builds an inner reservoir of this energy for when destruction makes its expected visit.<br />
<br />
using your hands, voice, and body to make and fix is also an effective way to discharge the energy of trauma. our bodies naturally want to build and repair and help. go with this instinct. put your hands to use.<br />
<br />
so...how do you get creative? <br />
<br />
take care loves.<br />
<br />lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373719796074501832.post-24803482327933151152017-04-02T07:00:00.000-04:002017-04-02T14:14:24.973-04:00sunday grace: the garden and preparing for glory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Y7-9XI7DqmlrCP1nVaw7YnCu4h57rKnyqb-RtoLOvIOPH8Gsn-wyKcw6bJ8sYnDpvEIMpSA0n1ixd5PZCe7fhpWnAKC10ONFJiCxzv9o6qEAXD4J-tlBqOxTiqzVHCQ4u15DCc0Wx10/s1600/IMG_3123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Y7-9XI7DqmlrCP1nVaw7YnCu4h57rKnyqb-RtoLOvIOPH8Gsn-wyKcw6bJ8sYnDpvEIMpSA0n1ixd5PZCe7fhpWnAKC10ONFJiCxzv9o6qEAXD4J-tlBqOxTiqzVHCQ4u15DCc0Wx10/s640/IMG_3123.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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yesterday was the first perfect day of spring in virginia: sunny, clear, clean (lots of rain earlier in the week), and a beautiful seventy degrees. we spent the day preparing the front and back yards at gypsy hill so that they can achieve their maximum glory in the months ahead. the work was quite unglamorous in the sense that it involved more shovels and fertilizer and wheel barrels and trash bins than flowers and lemonade. <br />
<br />
i couldn't help but think about the work as a metaphor for life, soul, and embodiment right now:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>where are the spots that require more digging?</li>
<li>how is the ground? is it packed and settled so tight that it supports, but is bereft of nutrition and aeration?</li>
<li>what areas need extra nourishment? which balance of nutritional components is optimal for current conditions?</li>
<li>what are components that may require thinning, pruning, transplanting? how will they thrive under different circumstances? more light needed here? more shade and shelter for this?</li>
<li>what needs to be respectfully moved to the compost bin? how did it once add to the beauty and meaning here?</li>
<li>who are the people who show up to do the hard, down and dirty work with you?</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br />
i'm reminded of a poem i first read in my adolescence. it's totally corny but i still love it so much. upon reading these words at age eleven or twelve, i began to discover my first real sense of personal power and agency in the world. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
comes the dawn</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
after a while you learn the subtle difference</div>
<div>
between holding a hand and chaining a soul.</div>
<div>
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning</div>
<div>
and company doesn't mean security.</div>
<div>
and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts</div>
<div>
and presents aren't promises.</div>
<div>
and you begin to accept your defeats</div>
<div>
with your head up and your eyes open</div>
<div>
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.</div>
<div>
and you learn to build all your roads on today</div>
<div>
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.</div>
<div>
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.</div>
<div>
after a while you learn</div>
<div>
that even sunshine burns if you get too much.</div>
<div>
so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul</div>
<div>
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.</div>
<div>
and you learn that you really can endure,</div>
<div>
that you really are strong</div>
<div>
and you really do have worth.</div>
<div>
and you learn and learn,</div>
<div>
with every goodbye you learn.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-veronica shoffstall<br />
<br />
plant your own garden, actual and metaphorical. <br />
happy sunday junebugs.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14391793620135107844noreply@blogger.com