gardening

I really love gardening. I love the flowers and the butterflies and hummingbirds that come to the flowers. I love wandering around nurseries and the home depot garden department. I always find something else to buy (today it was more bird seeds, moss, creeping phlox, and rockcress). If it wasn't already so dark outside, I would be out there, moving the bushes and planting our new friends.

This year in our veggie garden we planted tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, basil, and lettuce, just like last year. But we decided to add to it butternut squash, strawberries and raspberries. The basil is just starting to show its face and the the lavender from last year smells just like relaxation. I'm still trying to figure out the best way to get grapes going too. We don't have a big yard but what we do have I am putting to use.


Do you have a garden going this year?
Flowers and veggies?
What do you love to plant?

"Choosing Happiness" and Clinical Depression

photo by gary barnes

I've heard it a billion times: you have to merely decide to be happy and then you will be. I wanted to agree. I wanted to be on that rosy colored boat with those happy people, loving life, feeling good, but it was a concept that I couldn't fully grasp. I knew that there was a deeper reason why true happiness appeared just out of reach for me. So I remained on the shoreline and let that boat go on without me.

But as time has gone on, and as I have experienced different depths of depression-- and in turn, tried different ways to pull myself out of that depression-- I realize that I can still choose happiness, in a way. There are just a few more steps involved in that process.

(Continue reading after the jump)

Gratitude Journal

Last year I started to keep a sort of gratitude journal. It came after a counselor advised me to begin a journal to keep track of panic attacks/ episodes of severe depression to try to find the origin of those issues, but that just sounded so depressing (which was the point, I guess). So I half took his advice and began a gratitude journal instead. A few nights ago I found it in the rubble of my room and decided to share a few pages from it:

I fell in love with the sentiments I shared in that journal, and decided to start another one for this new chapter in my life. I'm not ready to share the inside yet, but here is the outside of it:

"Let the beauty we love be what we do." -Rumi

I love it. The journal itself was $1.50 at Michael's, the gold letter stickers were about $5. I also grabbed a Smash Stick to make documenting easier (pen on one side, glue stick on the other).

I have filled a few pages so far using instagram picture and a few scrapbooking papers, again from Michael's. It's just so fun. *Note: I print my instagram pictures using this tutorial.

Scrapbooking/journaling inspiration: Dear Lizzy / A Beautiful Mess

"Olive Us" and Positive Familial Interactions

Meet the Blair children of the new short film series "Olive Us."

According to the FAQ's, Olive Us "will encourage your family to get up and do or make or move... We aim to show healthy, happy relationships between siblings. We sometimes feel worn down by the super-sarcastic dialogue we hear on shows aimed at kids — especially between brothers and sisters. We want to share a more positive take." I love this, and I am excited to see what they come up with. You can view the first episode here.

Becoming Extraordinary

My Mother, Snow White, by Susan Hayward

Last Christmas I was in Tennessee, away from family and friends, serving a mission for my church. We were up every morning at 6:30, worked all day, then in bed by 10:30pm. Every day. On Christmas Day we got to call home and talk to our families, but that was it. But what could have potentially been a very lonely time for us missionaries was brightened by a kind deed: One of the missionaries' grandmothers had spent the last few months knitting scarves for all 130+ of us missionaries. That weekend we each got a new scarf, surely made with so much love and care.

Nowadays I occasionally volunteer at my local YWCA, which, among other things, provides temporary emergency shelter for victims of domestic violence. Yesterday one of the staff wheeled in a big barrel of gift bags: mothers day gifts for the residents donated by some local woman. The staff member was sporting a huge smile, and that joy and excitement soon spread throughout the room. What an extraordinary act of service this anonymous woman had performed.

I used to view these acts of service in awe, and I still do, but now with a greater understanding of how to serve. I sincerely believe that everyone has the potential to serve in extraordinary ways. The only catch is that there is no cookie cutter for "extraordinary service." That is something that we have to discover within ourselves, and when we do finally see our individual potentials, we cannot sit idly by while others work for this greater good. We must go and serve selflessly in whatever way we know how to.

A few years ago, my dear mother (a pre-school teacher by trade) showed up to a Halloween party dressed as Snow White. The children were dazzled by their teacher, a Disney Princess in the flesh. The next year Snow White showed up again, with the same reaction. Then Snow White started showing up elsewhere: a neighborhood tea party, a school fundraiser, etc. The reaction was always the same: complete awe, joy, and excitement. My Mother is Snow White, and that is an act of extraordinary service.

I am not a knitting-extraordinaire, nor am I wealthy enough to financially support non-profit organizations. I certainly do not have that special sweet heart (or petite dress size) of my mother. But I am blessed with the creative ability to write and share music. Over the last couple months I have learned how to use that talent to serve others in ways that I hadn't thought of before. I never expect a return for any of the songs I create, but I find myself rewarded tenfold. It brings so much joy to me, yet it is something that comes so easy to me.

Serving in extraordinary ways does not have to be hard. I am positive that you, dear reader, have a hidden ability just waiting to come out and bless the people around you. My challenge to you is to ponder that ability, find it, refine it, and use it.

How have you been blessed by the service of others? How has serving others blessed you?

A Family Tree

A couple weeks ago, I won a giveaway on a blog, which was basically the most exciting moment of my life. But beyond that, the product I won was mesmerizingly beautiful, so it was even more exciting. I present to you, my family tree:

It has my brother and I, my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and great-great grandparents. I love it so much, as does my entire family. We are finding a frame for it now, and it will hang in my family's new cabin in the mountains to make it more of a home.

One of the best things about the family tree, though, is it's completely customizable. I did five generations, but you can do as many as you want. You can have as few as 7 names, and as many as 45 names (maybe even more!). You tell Wendy what you want, and she has the magic to make it happen.

Check out Stem & Leaf's Etsy page for more info!

In a related note: if you have never looked into your family history before, I highly encourage you to start. You will be addicted. I love it. And to get you started, simply google image search "pedigree chart." One step further? Check out the largest free genealogical search, FamilySearch.

Healing

You probably know this already, but I'm a musician. I used to play in a folk band a few years ago, and now I've taken up music again as a solo artist. Many of you also probably know that I have suffered from severe depression. One of my resolutions this year was to be more honest about that.* Whereas before I would seamlessly hide behind a mask of happiness and wellness, I am telling you straight: I have struggled with depression, I still struggle with depression, and even though you can't always see it, it's there. And I'm not the only one who suffers this way.

Luckily, something productive sometimes results from these bouts of depression. Usually for me, that something is in the form of music.

There are lyrics from this compilation of songs that capture exactly where I was in my darkest moments, and in some cases, where I still am.

Can you feel the winter war? Broken branches, shattered core.
Will you love me though the scars echo willows?


But as the lyrics turned to songs, and the songs turned to recordings with some of my favorite people at my side, I felt the beauty surface from those broken branches, that shattered core.

And then as my dear brother took a sort of "press photo" for me, he captured it perfectly. He captured those feelings, but also the quiet beauty of healing.

I will never be completely rid of depression, but as I pursue those things that bring me even the slightest bit of comfort, I can find healing.


*Other posts include this and this.

sails

She stood in the storm

and when the wind

did not blow her way,

she adjusted her sails.

~Elizabeth Edwards




(Happy International Women's Day! We love you all and are grateful for the inspiration of the strong, loving women around us!)

new

Do you ever feel a little... crowded? Sometimes by people but more by situations and, well, comparisons? And you just need to take a step outside and breath? Or shut everyone out and breath?

I have been breathing a lot lately. Well, after feeling like I couldn't breath anymore, I took a step back and tried to stop all the negativity that was bogging me down. There were too many "to do's," too many amazing women who could have a nice house and a happy baby and even maybe some dinner, while I can only manage one at a time.

I was being stomped on by my inadequacies.

And shouldn't it be the other way around? I should be stomping on and crushing all the things that make me feel small.

We even went out of town for a long weekend. I thought I would come back refreshed and ready to get those bathrooms clean and write a little. But I went right back to feeling deflated. And since I at least like to end posts on a positive note, I didn't write at all because I had nothing very positive to say.

I feel better now. I stayed away from the world wide web, took a couple walks by myself, finally let everything bothering me out via my husband, and spent some good time with my little family. I took care of some responsibilities (it feels good to be needed), started running again (it's been too long), and got some good spiritual reminders that it is ok that motherhood is hard (it is still worth it).

Speaking of motherhood being hard but worth it, I watched this video:

"THE STORY OF A SHIPWRECKED RAMBLER" a documentary about a girl crossing Iceland on her own from Klara Harden on Vimeo.

And I cried. When she says: "... will ask myself why the hell am I doing this? Well I hope that I will still realize that it is worth it. It is always worth it."

And isn't it true. The things we do are hard. I feel happier when I am doing something hard. Challenging myself. But sometimes I ask myself if it is really worth it? But it always is. And if it isn't, then maybe I need to take a step back and figure out what I should be doing that would be worth it.

(I wrote a little something about how I was feeling the last few weeks but I have not decided whether I should share. Maybe you have felt the way I was feeling so maybe it is worth it to put it out there.)

The Busyness Becomes You

I felt like my head would explode. Or my feet would fall off. Or my arms would give out. Or I would just fall asleep right where I was sitting. In yet another meeting.

Sundays have become my meeting days. Jumping from one to the next, with a baby on my hip and a diaper bag that seems much heavier than it should be. If the meeting is with all ladies, I can nurse the child right at the meeting. Otherwise I am scrambling in the 15 minutes between to get her fed and changed and ready for the next one.

When I finally reach my home, my husband opens the door for me and offers a hand and a kiss. All I want to do is sit and stare at the wall. But the lists of "To Do's" grew quickly at each meeting and if I stop and sit, there is a chance I won't ever get anything done. So I start right away. Call this person, email that one. Look up Christmas stories for the party or a song for the kids to sing.

Sometimes, I wonder what really is the point of all the busyness. Is there a point? Or is it like the movies say. Suburbia with it's matching houses and crazy neighbors, where everyone spends their time doing the same things over and over again, with little purpose but to keep ourselves busy.

But I don't really believe that. My to do list is not full of senseless things to fill my time. It is full of reminders to go talk to that child, who in class seemed so quiet and maybe a little bit lonely. It has reminders to make sure my neighbors remember the Christmas party that I am helping organize; or ideas of who would sing so pretty for that party. It is full of ways to improve, be more efficient, ideas that I had to be more thoughtful and what I could do for a friend.

I am grateful for my life. That I can see the people around me who I can help and love. And maybe each thing I do takes a piece of me so that by the time I get home, I wonder if I have anything left to give. But then I remember that I do it to help other peoples lives be a little happier, a little less lonely, and maybe even a little easier. And that makes me happy.

I Am

When I was 12, having just moved to a new house, neighborhood, city, state, part of the country, I was horribly intimidated by the fact that I was going to have to find new people to be friends with. The very first person I met was Mary-Jane. She made the whole "becoming friends" feel like it was no big deal. All of the sudden I had a huge group of friends because she introduced me to them all and helped me be a part of them. And now, years later, she has traveled the world, been in I have no idea how many operas and become a truly inspiring woman. She is beautiful, glamorous, thoughtful, crazy talented, and crazy fun. Her blog archi loves mary-jane holds the pictures and words to prove it. Just knowing her makes me feel I have a little of that in me too. I wanted you to meet her and get to know a little of who she is. So, without further ado, meet Mary-Jane:

I am an opera singer.

It’s hard.

I love it.

I hate it.

I dream about it.

I practice hard.

I don’t practice at all.

I want to travel the world.

I want to stay inside.

I am a performer.

I am introverted.

I am settled.

I am confused.

I am realizing that my path to becoming an opera singer is getting harder and harder because I am faced with more important and challenging decisions.

When I was younger my path seemed easier, clearer. Go to college. Do well. Go to graduate school. Do well. Go to an apprentice program for an opera house. Do well. Now your life is set. It was all planned-out. So easy. So simple. Whoopsy. I’m finding it’s impossible for me to plan a perfect little path because something will change whether it’s me, my desires, my options, my location, or my loved ones. Nothing is finite. I am changing and my perfect little world and path that I’ve created is changing too.

I have a partner and best friend in life and what he wants and needs is just as important as my own personal desires. (A lesson I’m learning.) I want him to succeed and I want him to be able to follow his own dreams as well. Sometimes it gets tricky trying to meet each other on our various paths, but I think so far we’ve done pretty well. But it’s our next stage that is a little dubious.

Sometimes you have to live in middle-land for a while and not be sure quite what the next step is. It's kind of weird, but I'm trying to make the most of it. I need to remind myself everyday that middle-land is a beautiful place to be. We haven’t quite reached our ultimate career goals but we’re on the way. We have time to pause and notice what we are doing now and what it is we really want to be doing.

Whilst chasing my dreams of being an opera singer I sometimes forget that I have other interests and talents. Middle-land is teaching me that I can use all of my other resources and talents to make additional dreams and desires realties.

I am a dreamer.

I love being a dreamer.

I am a dancer. (in my living room or kitchen)

I am a wife.

I love my husband.

I like to sew.

I am a friend.

I am a traveler.

I laugh too hard.

I am a sister.

I can be a nerd.

I am a daughter.

I take too long to wash my hair.

I am an auntie.

I need family.

I am loud.

I want happiness.

I have it.

I am happy.