Shoveling Towards Forty

Story time.  The room looks so much bigger now.

I'm not sure if it's the grey (white, really) hairs that have been appearing on my head, or the relentless turn of the days, but a sense of urgency has come upon me.  I am shoveling the junk out of my house.  I am by nature a collector of things.  Many things.

This shot does not adequately portray the junk that was living in my room.

When pondering what would be a nice gift for my husband for Christmas, it came to me.  How about a nice, clean bedroom?  It was pretty much looking like a garage sale that had gone badly.  So, I measured and sketched and searched craigslist for a desk and chair.  I plotted and planned where every piece would go.

The day of the makeover, Darrell left late for work.  I didn't have much time.  That's actually a motivator for me to work faster.  I worked quickly, getting the place in shape by story time for the reveal.  He was surprised and I was proud.

Pitiful "desk" where Darrell was sending neighborhood updates, etc.

A proper desk and chair!

This modest success has propelled me to keep shoveling and rearranging and conquering the clutter throughout my home.  Cleaner, organized spaces give room for the mind to roam and relax.  I'm looking forward to seeing my home as an organized space.  And I know I'll feel good.

Dancing Hash Browns

The hash browns weren't dancing.  I was.  My red plate over my head, shaking my booty, not caring that my husband in the next room could see me.  We've been together so long that he probably barely notices my outbursts of movement.










Have I ever made hash browns?  I don't think so.  What was so special about these?  I grew the potatoes!  My kids dug them up.  I rinsed them under the kitchen faucet, grated them on the box grater into the hot skillet of butter and salt. 

Perfection. 





Were they perfect?  No, not by any culinary standard.  Were they perfect for me?  Yes.  In that moment, crispy potato goodness between my teeth, I was perfectly happy.  I am discovering that growing and making my own food is much more satisfying than I thought it would be.  

Very satisfying.

Do What You Love

Sometimes.....rather, often, I forget to do the things that I really love to do. The things that bring me personal joy and satisfaction. Some of the things I love to do fall into the category of annual tradition. This is good, because I get that gentle reminder, at least once a year, to participate in a hobby I enjoy.

Spring is in full bloom here in balmy-too-early Birmingham. With the blooms comes my annual tradition of taking portraits of my children. I love this for many reasons. My Dad was a photographer and introduced me to the beauty of photography as familial journalism. I LOVE to look through old black and white pictures of myself and my family when I was a child, sniffing a flower, holding up a kitten, or traipsing off to school. By photographing my children every year at the same time, in the same yard, I am providing a record for them and for myself of their inevitable march toward adulthood. I love making beautiful pictures. I'm not saying I'm a great artist or magnificent photographer. What I'm saying is that I love making photographs that seem lovely to me. Golden, shining moments I want to embellish a bit. Sometimes it's a bit of fiction to make things seem better than they are. Sometimes they are very honest shots of dirty kids, messy situations, but art to me all the same.

Whatever it is that you love to do, make time this week to do it. Or a plan to do it. It's never the perfect time. The kids' hair wasn't washed. Jacques' suspenders didn't match his pants. I couldn't find his dress shirt. His bangs needed trimming. But a storm was coming. The blooms were on their way out. I had to seize the moment and do it anyway. I think I like them better this year because they aren't perfect.

Just Slow Down.....

Sometimes the only way I can slow down is when my body does it for me. It's called a migraine. I usually get one when my life is on fast-forward. My migraine protocol is: take a huge dose of ibuprofen, wrap a heat pack around my neck and hibernate under the covers of my bed. If Darrell is around, he massages my shoulders and neck. When the drugs kick in and I'm feeling like I can move again, I find it's much more slowly. For the rest of the day, I'm in a migraine "hangover." My mind is strangely blank and I can just BE.

After a middle-of-the-night migraine episode, I sat in a kitchen chair this morning, with a cup of tea, staring out the window at a budding oak against the blue sky. The sudden urge to get up and DO something was strangely absent. I really enjoyed that cup of tea. The texture of the mug, the heat against my hand, the steam rising into my face. I SAW the tree. The buds. The criss crossing pattern of bare branches. The color of the sky.

Why does it take being sick for me to slow down? What does it take for you to slow down? One of my goals is to cultivate being present in the moment, WITHOUT a migraine hangover.

I Can't Do It All

Big surprise, huh? Why is it so hard to admit that I need help with some things? A little voice in my head tells me that if I just get up a little earlier, work a little faster, schedule my time more effectively, I should be able to do everything.

Everything necessary to :

1. Keep my house, children and yard clean.
2. Feed my family. Not just feed them, but with nutritious, interesting, sustainably produced food.
3. Educate my children with exciting and diverse activites.
4. Procure all supplies necessary for the maintenance of my family.
5. Provide for the physical, spiritual and social needs of my children.
6. Maintain good relations with our neighbors and community.
7. Manage all of the other affairs of the home - financial, maintenance, yard, pets, etc. etc. etc. And, oh yeah, make time for myself.


Well, after thirty-nine years of, "If I just.......," I relinquished my grasp on item number one on the list, and hired a housekeeper.

Anyone who knows me well, knows that it's really hard for me to let go of a dollar bill. So hiring someone was not only admitting that I can't do it by myself, but also deciding it was worth spending money on. This turned out to be a big motivator for me, because as the lady dusted (years of accumulation, I have to admit) I hit the clutter with wild aggression. If I was paying someone, I was going to to work twice as hard!

Is my house perfectly clean now? No. Did we make improvements? Yes. Was it enough for my family to notice? Yes. More importantly, I have a plan now. Regular visits from the cleaning lady while I sort and organize and toss has me seeing the potential of eventually getting to the bottom of my piles. I know that I (and my family) work better in an organized environment. My mind is more focused and peaceful. It's definitely in line with my goal to be kind to myself.

So, long story short, admitting I can't do it all has me looking at other ways to creatively outsource some of my tasks this year. I know my family (especially my husband) is thankful I made that first step.

Beginning of a Journey Year

I just turned thirty-nine years old. Not a milestone. I, however, do not want to wait for a milestone to start living more purposefully. I want to embrace forty with a healthy body and mind, a renewed kindness and mindfulness towards myself, my family and neighbors.

In the following year, I will attempt to document my progress towards this goal. I'll share the issues that arise when contemplating age, health, social interactions, parenting, partnering, personal fulfillment and one's general place in the world. Nothing earth shattering, just a record of my journey.