I’ll admit there are times when I get tired of looking for beauty in all the first-world ugly I see. I just want to wallow for a minute or two . . . or a week.
Just so we’re clear, to wallow is a verb meaning to roll about in the mud for refreshment.
Yep. Rolling in the mud for refreshment. Get out me out some tunes and get a little pig wallow on.
I don’t know about you but I’m not sure rolling in the ugly is refreshing. I know it isn’t pretty for anyone to watch and it makes me downright sticky and stinky. And yet I do it.
I find myself failing again and getting stuck there, burying myself in the ugly. Counting the ways life is hard:
Continue reading “Get Your Wallow On”
There’s Something about Thursday: Two Ways to a Better Home Life
Changing the way you look at your daily life, because there’s something about the way you think.
It’s Thursday, the day we stop and wonder, giving a nod to the things that make us stop and say, “There’s something about . . . “
A quick trip through the medical research in cyberspace will have you convinced that your brain is an amazing creation. Extremely powerful.
In addition to keeping your body functioning, there is research that proves a correlation between positive thinking and lower stress, healthier bodies, etc. All done with your brain. Who knew?
But positive thinking is a little easier said than done when you try and bring it home. Continue reading “There’s Something about Thursday: Two Ways to a Better Home Life”
I didn’t want to write today. The last two posts were a little hard for me to write. I was walking lines, trying to step carefully, not sure if I had crossed over or not. That feeling of insecurity, combined with the busyness of the holidays and starting the first round of edits for my novel, has left me a little done in.
But I made a promise to you and myself that I would purposefully look for, see, and celebrate the good things. And that promise forced me to look today.
To see the gorgeous sunrise and watch in wonder as the sun’s spark slowly spread from a tiny spot to flames spreading from horizon to horizon.
To hear the laughter in my sister’s voice despite the hard things she endures.
To feel the heat in my home and good food filling my stomach.
So today, I thank you. Whether you know it or not, you are my accountability, my outside-myself-reason to keep finding beauty, to keep writing, and frankly, to not play it safe.
Today you helped me find the beauty in the world so filled with amazing things, I often miss the overflowing and take it for granted.
So if you took my challenge earlier this week and decided to not play it safe, what are you doing to be sure you will actually take that step? If you’re willing, I would love to know what your dreams and hopes are for the coming year. Maybe we can help keep each other accountable.
I sat in church the other day and listened to folks talk to the brand new mom behind me.
“How is it going?” “Fine.” “She looks like such a good baby.” No response, but a small smile from the mom.
And when they left she breathed to her husband, “What else am I supposed to say?”
Tears filled my eyes. I hate the word fine.
Fine says nothing.
It’s neither here . . .
Fine makes it easy to hide.
How are you doing? Fine. When life is slipping through your fingers. Fine. When you’re barely keeping panic from exploding your chest. Fine. I look fine. Feel fine. The day is fine, thank you very much.
Continue reading “When Fine Isn’t Fine”
In the interest of being honest, I’m struggling.
Not in the sense that I am enduring the huge storms of life. No. It’s the slow trickle of the stream of stress that’s worn me down around the edges.
Over the last year or so, I’ve been on a journey to discover what it means to be still. It’s a glorious place . . . when I can find it.
What I’m struggling with, what I don’t know how to do, is be still within the hectic franticness that is life. How do you practice being still when helping your daughter study history, while your son is asking for help with spelling, and in the midst of realizing that you forgot to start dinner? Again.
The stream overflows. And that’s where I’m at. Overflowed. Continue reading “Overflowed”
My daughter is studying the Native Americans in social studies. This week her class started studying the Eastern Woodland Indians, specifically the Cherokee. This amazing people group assimilated into the European colonies and, in many ways, looked exactly like their neighbors.
But they weren’t. They were different.
And that difference allowed people’s greed for gold to forcibly remove the Cherokee and other Native Americans from their land, enduring disease, exposure, and starvation. The Trail of Tears.
When I told my girl the story of the Cherokee, she stared at me, confusion pulling her eyebrows together.
In her wide-eyed innocence, “Why?”
You see, my girl is an artist and she understands that in art, in beauty, contrast and difference is celebrated and encouraged. That which makes something different, is core to making it beautiful. Continue reading “Beautifully Diverse”
The light bends golden across the horizon.
Yellow leaves twisting golden in the breeze.
Distant sounds of laughter call me out
To join the dance
Of coming winter
Of summer’s dying
Of predictable pattern
Of persistent change
In the beautiful death of one thing
Comes the shimmering new life of another.
When I realized that the late afternoon light was the perfect golden tone for pictures, I grabbed my camera for a selfie. It didn’t even occur to me to not fix my makeup.
Continue reading “On Real Beauty”