2021 was many things, but dare I say it, I think it was kind of magical.

For me, the most magical thing was really embracing “self-love” and sort of returning to a more free version of myself and out of that space, something new has started to emerge ~ more confidence, more art, more songs, more fun, more gratitude, patience, and so much love.

For awhile there, I think I was a bit lost from myself ~ too afraid to be my fullest self, lost in imposter syndrome, worried about perception, fear of doing it wrong, taking up too much “space”, and just being afraid, afraid, afraid. I’ve struggled with fear in the past, but the past few years have been extra challenging and it’s been everything to just show up, but I did and things have been shifting in really amazing ways.

Fear and perception are funny things, or just things, or something… because the truth is everyone has their “stuff”, their “things”, issues, fears, dreams and so, so many feelings. I have been talking about feelings as a “connection space” for a long time, but I have really started practicing this in a different way.

I think one of the biggest feelings I have been working with is discomfort. Learning to be in discomfort of a moment ~ especially moments of disconnection. Learning to stay, to lean in and b r e a t h e

I’ve realized how much I need stillness, but I have also realized that I like celebrating small things (and really, every day there are so many things to celebrate).

I’m learning to listen to myself more and learning about plants. Although, in listening, I am realizing that the plants have always guided me, supported me and just waited for me to better understand their inner whispers.

Nettles have taught me about boundaries, burdock grounds me and linden and marshmallow root keep my heart open and encourage me to sing. Butterfly pea flower reminds me that magic IS real (actually, I believe all of the plants are magical, but I do love that hue transition).

Working with the flock and the land continues to humble me and remind me of reciprocity.

I am grateful for my health, connections, friendships, work and so much more. It has been a healthy season and I am starting to see the still’s disease as a strange gift because it was one of the main things that forced me to tend to my own being first, which I think has allowed me to be better at being t(here) for others.

And yet, things are still strange and hard and most days I still feel a deep melancholy for the future of the world.

I was recently in the desert, sitting with the massive stones and an incredible agave plant. There was a heaviness that I can’t quite explain, but I kept coming back to presence and gratitude ~ that NO MATTER WHAT, that presence is a portal and that I can return over and over and over again and choose joy, love, and continue dreaming of an equitable and kind world and that truly, the only way for me to experience the world I long for, is by just being it myself (insert all the clichés ever, but they are true!)

I’m sure there will be stumbling and hard days ahead, but I know that they are all just part of my path.

And so I will carry on, believing in goodness, shining my light and hopefully encouraging others to do the same.

I hope you enjoy this holiday greeting for 2021 and that you enjoy all of our wishes for you! We wrote this song together because we started learning accordion. I told B to think of silly wishes and I stitched them together into a melody-of-sorts and we added many layers upon layers.

May this song bring you joy, smiles and encourage a little silliness.

Snowflakes and eggnog and chestnuts and mittens
These are some things of winter songs
Ribbons and fairy lights and critters in hats
These are some things of our songs

Cookies and days off and laughter with friends
Are some things we wish for you
Abundance and adventures and hopefully no dentures
At least any time soon

So cherish your time together
Cozy up and look at the trees
Or go play in the snow or the sparkling beach
And go home desert and tv

Wishing you all of the love. ♥

from us and our gaggle of critters (Frenzy, Chester, Pipa, and Kirk)

~

This is actually the 10th year I have been making these silly videos. The first time I ever made a video was actually as a way to cheer up my own broken heart forever ago. It’s (actually-probably-not-that) surprising how little and how much I have changed at the exact same time through all of these years. :)

Previous greetings: (please note these open to different tabs)
__
2020 ~ a holiday medley of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and “The Christmas Song”
2019 ~ ”Krimgle Brells” ~ a rendition of “Jingle Bells”
2018 ~ gratitude
2017 ~ A little reflection and some holiday wishes
2016 ~ this might make George Michael roll in his grave
2015 ~ have a holly jolly christmas
2014 ~ a sparkle partner christmas
2013 ~ nature’s glitter
2012 ~ yay christmas!
2009 ~ christmas with lavi

p.s. please forgive the many broken links in the past entries of my diary :)

from the "archives" of last year’s writing club. Amy had the idea for us to write. We took turns creating a prompt and wrote for ten minutes. This was the beginning.

//

Tuesday, October 8 1:17 pm

By the time these ten minutes are over, many things will have shifted. The light is moving, the Earth is spinning, my fingers are typing on this keypad. My breath is steady and my stomach is churning this bitter coffee. 

Let me come to presence… to this space in between all of the moving change.

Presence at this moment is my eyes looking at this screen and seeing the green leaves of plants peaking over my computer. The plants themselves are changing, leaves are breathing and roots reach into the soil of the planters. 

Somewhere someone is waking, somewhere someone is dying.

The words of an article in Time disturbed me this morning, something about “throwing bodies into the Nile”. It dawned on me that those bodies were likely sisters, brothers, and friends of someone. Those bodies had eyes that witness life and change.

I think a lot about being “In” my body, in this form. A being that notices and experiences things, water on the lips, dry eyes, a runny nose, a soft tissue. Bodies hold so much. I wonder if we even really think about how much they hold. 

It is now 1:23… 

I am writing without even reading or thinking. Just writing.  

There’s so much to say and really nothing at all. 

Looking up, I noticed that one of my plants is thirsty. It’s leaves are drooping and it’s clear I haven’t watered it in awhile, but I will wait until these ten minutes are complete. 

Back to presence. Breath. This moment. Rest. Stillness. 

A body that is in the middle of all the chaos of change. The breath that can create the stillness to move between past, present and the future. 

Time is fluid. 

It is now 1:27. 

I will water the plant.

a pile of processing... 

almost every morning i enter the tangle. i walk straight into the jungle of the tall plant that reminds me of a cornfield, crunching it down with my boots. the phragmites bends easily as i make a small circular path for the electronet fencing, but i often have to rip at overgrown bittersweet and grape tangled around one other. this area i am creating is where the sheep will graze. the hard part is carrying the electronet fencing with me as i place it along the small path -- it is always a small tangle.

for weeks, i tried new methods of wrapping the thin wire mesh and poles to make it easier on myself, but no matter my effort it would still tangle or get caught on the ground or a piece of litter left unveiled by the sheep's grazing. i used to be frustrated by this, but i decided to use this as a time to practice radical acceptance.

radical acceptance for each time i managed to step my foot through the fencing making it impossible to move forward only realizing that I was the tangle, radical acceptance for the time i literally tripped myself and fell face first into the grass, radical acceptance for the few times i zapped myself on the fence, radical acceptance for all the times i set up the fence and realized it was just alittletooshort to reach the other end and then had to go back and move each pole a little bit to make it fit, radical acceptance for all the ways i realized the only thing that would allow everything to untangle was patience and s l o w i n g  down.

moving the fence has become my morning meditation. i think of our interconnectedness, to each other and the earth and the problems and the hope. the beauty and terror all swirling around paradoxically together.

i imagine that with every little tangle i manage to overcome by patience, that this radiates outwards. that a little bit of spaciousness can be added to the web of everything. 

vignettes of farm mornings. in no particular order..

i walk westward, outside of the gate. the chicory greets me with it's cornflower blue hue. it is morning.
the wheelbarrow pushes against the ground, my chest heaves. gratitude for these legs that carry me forward.

a path of white lace on thin green stems ... queen anne's lace
cones of fuschia flowers reaching upwards ... purple loosestrife
yellow candy buttons with a sweet scent ... tansy
a gradient from light pink to green, colors of the heart chakra ... virginia pepperweed

when you look, everything seems green
but when you look closer you see that each leaf has it's own personality, it's own curl of a leaf,
alternating patterns, tiny hairs that breathe
diversity is beautiful.

the chicory reminds me of impermanence
it changes as the sun moves, even within one hour
the blooms welcome me, but as the sun rises the blooms close
within the week the stems have turned from green to maroon
small signs of autumn tease against the thick summer air
everything changes

One of the best days of my life, my wedding day ... 4.24.15 Thank you for all being part of it. ❤ Music by: "Violin Music" by Henry Chapin "Coastal Cities" by Summer Reign "Distopian Dream Girl" by Built to Spill "Sweet Thing" by Van Morrison "I Just Can't Get Enough" by Depeche Mode "Compliment Your Soul" by Dan Croll "Thunder Clatter" by Wild Cub

//

I still remember the cold spring day when I met Brendan. The wind was strong when I noticed him -- deep brown curls blowing in the wind. There was something about him that took my breath away. When I saw him walking towards me (because he was with our mutual friend), fireworks started in my stomach and out of my mouth in the form of a million, rapid-fire questions.

*yes, he was overwhelmed at first*

But then we met a few weeks later and I was a little calmer -- or at least appeared to be on the outside -- but I'm sure my stomach was in knots. It's hard to describe the feeling -- nothing has ever made me as nervous as he had, but at the same time I also felt a certain surety. When I finally worked up the courage to ask for his number, I remember running home and singing to the cats. Hayden laughed.

You see, he was a little quieter than me and I never felt like I could get the words right. I found myself with one-word answers with a certain spaciousness around them.

Me: So what do you like to do?
Him: Walk.
Me: Um, where do you like to walk?
Him: Around.
Me: Well, maybe we could 'walk around' together someday. (inner dialogue: hand-to-head, did that sound stupid!?)

Being the person I am, spaciousness seemed (is) scary, but I learned that it's exactly what I needed. Over the past year, he has given me nothing but *s p a c e* to be myself -- this has been very healing.//

I’ve been wanting to write about the wedding for the past few months, but the other day experienced something to frame it. It was a really rough day for a lot of silly reasons and I spent the better part of it in tears. The mental hamster wheel was spinning. In the past, this self-depreciating, self-worth spiral to hell would last a lot longer and I would be *even* harder on myself -- forget the second arrow, it was more like ten. But this time, there was something different.

I didn't ignore the negative feelings that were coming up, but I didn't let them take over me like they so often do. There was a small, half-fingernail size part of me that fought back. It reminded me of my own self-worth.

Later that night, I caught his eye while he was looking at me. He had just been telling me how pretty I looked and I felt his gaze. It was vulnerable and I felt that nervous-feeling again from those early days.

It was then that I realized that he really does SEE me. Yes, he sees my hair and smile, but he easily sees straight through to that half-fingernail sized part of myself that understands and fights back for my own self-worth. You hear about love at first sight, but to me, meeting Brendan was more of a coming home. Because his seeing me, really allows ME to see and love myself even more. The more this happens, the more *space* there is for playfulness and adventure (which we both happened to mention in our vows ❤).

//

The above are some of my favorite wedding photos, taken by the lovely ladies at BAM Weddings.

Also, here's a little video I made, full of lots of hugs. Making this video was so much fun, because it allowed me to experience the wedding. The actual day itself was a blur, but this let me feel into it all again.

Thank you to everyone who made it and for all of the well-wishes. Big love! ❤ 

The past year or so has been an absolute whirlwind. I haven't spent that much time writing about it partly because it felt like a dream and also because of my ongoing, internal debate on sharing and the digital space.

But I actually like to pause and reflect on things. It allows me to really remember my gratitude for the moment -- even if the moment has passed.

Sometimes I need that pause because there are times I get worked up about the future, somehow feeling like I need to plan my next move or the next "big thing". My "planning-mind" has always been a weird place for me to escape to, but I've been trying to challenge it.

Because the truth is, the past year was full of "big things". I quit my full-time job and started working part-time to allow myself more time for art. I used to daydream about time and how I'd spend it, but when actually given some extra hours it was much harder than I thought. So I worked too hard, too long, barely did any art and found myself in a slight creative block (which I'm finally coming out of).

I am one that (unfortunately) learns lessons in difficult ways. It can take me several loops before I see the right path, even if it's flashing neon pink. It likely took me losing balance, to realize I needed to find a balance, all with an underlying lesson of remembering to be kind to myself.

Sometimes it seems like there's a dance of life -- a balancing act of living in the present, reflecting on the past, and planning for the future. Staying too long in one area can upset another.In a recent conversation with a friend, I had an epiphany that I need to "decorate the house". I realized that I've been looking so far ahead that I haven't really settled into all the (amazing!) things happening now (like the fact that I married the love of my life!!).

It's like when you move into an apartment and you don't fully decorate because you know (think) you'll be moving soon... it's temporary.But I actually think it's important to decorate. To make it your own.So here's to decorating the house -- the house of my life. The current space full of change and finding balance, which is often still scary and unknown, but also oh-so-good.

Here are some old moments from the past year that are worth remembering.
A beautiful hike last September.
Thanksgiving in Iowa and very memorable sunrise-sledding. 
Christmas in Marco.
Ringing in 2015. 
Snow days forever--this past winter really did drag on. 
But then spring finally came! ... and I got married (another post on this to follow). 

Friend time with new friends, old friends, and now newly-connected friends.  

//

I was working on something else when Brendan said the sky was a pretty color. Little did he know (or perhaps he did; since he knows me so well), that this small comment would turn into one of those "keepers" moments. As soon as I saw the moon I grabbed my camera and his hand and we ran (carefully) to the roof to catch the last bits. I don't remember what we talked about, but I know we laughed. This happened sometime in September or October - I have no idea - time has just been going . so . quickly.

Lately, we've been walking the bridge. The first night was magical. I remember the shakiness of the bridge and the warmth of our two hands squeezed in one pocket. It was foggy that evening and there was a full moon. The sky was nearly the same color as the bridge making it seem like we were walking towards a looming monster. Halfway on the bridge, I stopped and gave Brendan a giant bear hug - the kind where you almost knock someone over. I explained that my hug was "squeezing that moment into my memory"; meaning it was something I never wanted to forget.

The thing is, I might.

Because these new experiences and these magical moments continue in a way where they become routine. I do not mean this in a negative way, but I'm really feeling into the fact that change is the only constant -- and that it doesn't always equal loss.

**pictured: That sunset | an awesome dance party with two of my favorite people that ended with sparklers! | morning rays | a boat-ride upstate to Oktoberfest where the food was, unfortunately, unforgettably horrible. | friends, friends, friends.

//

It's interesting to look back at old posts on this space. Some moments are cringeworthy because they remind me of the times when I tried so hard, leaving a certain melancholy hidden in overly happy writing. Part of me that wishes I could erase large parts of my past because sometimes I hate thinking that there was ever anything before this effortless happiness I've found. But I realize that sometimes it takes going in a few circles before you realize that there really is a simplicity to it all. It likely took all those turns in order for me to figure out what was most important. Be true to yourself. Be honest with what you want.

I wish I'd done this sooner - truly - because ever since I gave myself permission to be me, I've been happier than I've ever been and I'm just so, so thankful. ♥

**pictured: a midnight birthday kiss while playing with light and open shutters. the second photo shows what it's like to drop your phone...

i am my own lifelinedarkness finds it's way into my heart. into my mind. into my words.i say things without thinking.i think things without doing."what's the point?" that harsh voice asks."it's all already been done. you're not good enough anyway." it teases."...but you love it and it makes you happy..." a tiny voice struggles to speaki am my own problem, but i am my own lifeline.maybe this realization is part of "the point."the "action step" for my list-loving mind is self-love. 

Things have been a little quiet on this corner of my world, but I've been busy making unicorns, eating cupcakes, seeing films (you must see The Artist and Chinatown is  s u c h  a great classic), painting, getting lost in pretty things, and hand-washing tie dye shirts for some eager (and deserving) children in my Saturday Art Explorers class.2012... So far, so good.

It's quite grey in New York today. The buildings, the sky, the sidewalk.grey, gray, grey (both are acceptable spellings, you know...)but i've already noticed the shift of light. the days are starting to get e v e r - so - s l i g h t l y   longer.yup. they are.microscopic seconds longer - yes - but longer.Hope you are all having a wonderful, wonderful day!

I have been with the darkest parts of myself.

The parts filled with self-hatred, the ones that can't find kindness. The parts that think no matter what, I'm just not enough. Not creative enough, Not thin enough, not smart enough, not aware enough, not caring enough, not there enough. Just not enough.

These parts care far too much about what they, he, she, and you will think....But we all have our parts. They are what make us ... well us. They are raw. They are real.

And maybe...just maybe, it's better to stand face to face with these parts. To really sit with them, to hold their hand and remind them of kindness and light.

Tell them to grasp something...anything...and just hold on. Just be.

And maybe...just maybe, with enough   s p a c e  that tiny, stronger voice will come back. It will say, enough to those harsh voices and it will be okay.

**Love,

a stronger you from another moment in time…

*source*Sometimes my seven-year self gets the better of me and I just want to play.  So last week when the skies opened and the streets got crowded with puddles, I didn't hide under an awning.In fact before leaving Vintage Attic on Metropolitan I asked for an extra plastic bag. I turned my music up and threw the phone into the bag (I realize it's probably not terribly safe to run around in rain with headphones, but I just wanted a fun soundtrack to my mischievousness.)I left the store and skipped and danced and waved my arms around the whole way home. As the rain heavily poured onto my shoulders and the plastic bag with my phone (clutched tightly in my hand), I felt lighter and free.At that point, I jumped - quite literally - into the puddles.There's something about the rain that is so, so refreshing.

*source* {isn't it charming!}

This life...Is fleeting like a butterfly.Last night I realized how lucky I am. This life I have is really full. And even though there are times I am lonely, I know that they fade. Everything changes, even those dark moments. But walking home from yoga I realized how free I am. I have no real responsibilities other than the goals I want for myself. Right now those are excelling at work and creating art. And lately music too. Maybe one of these days I'll actually learn a language, to knit, and be better at paying attention the news. But it's the little things that count, like listening to NPR on my walk to the train and buying old books on street corners.

Last night when showering, I realized how much I would miss not living with Hayden someday and when he locks the cat in the bathroom with me (she likes this). I would miss that hole in the ceiling and laughing about the series of landlords named "Frank" we've had for the past few months.It made me realize that I don't need to rush out of this life because sooner than I probably realize, it too, will change.

Life is beautiful (despite the shorter days and the upcoming fall).

this has been a great year (despite some serious craziness)in fact, this has been the best year i've had since moving to new york.i. am. happy.i really am.i feel like a bird.soaring..effortless...and free...