No, not giant steps...

As the new year approaches I find that I am more resolved than ever to avoid making any resolutions. I find this practice to add to the already downward slump of January. The last thing I need to do for myself is to be mad that I can't get onto the treadmill more, write more, have a cleaner house, be a better wife/mother all while getting back into the routine of life after a nice, but crazy holiday break. These are such big life altering intentions that I am often overwhelmed before I even begin.

Instead, I propose taking this time to switch gears from crafting well worded and well intentioned lists of hopes to stop resoluting altogether. I am proposing a switch from giant steps to baby steps. I want my new year to start with a deep gratifying breath. I want to start this new year by being more conscious of myself. Am I stressed? Well, let me see... stop, breathe, and check in. If I am stressed, why am I stressed? What can I do about it? Anything? If I am not stressed, then what am I feeling? Yes, I will have one more deep breath and another until my shoulders fall back to their normal position and I have allowed my inner self to speak.

These little steps are so tiny that I am confident that everything that I intend for this year will come if I stop and breathe. If I stop to take a moment to reflect. If I stop to reset my mind so I can see clearer. Yes, this does sound like a resolution but it is so tiny that it isn't one. If I can inhabit at least 5 of my new year moments out of every day in January then perhaps by February I will be better able to inhabit 7 moments. Then I will be unstoppable by September! But, I am getting ahead of myself, so instead, I am going to stop, I am going to breathe, and I am going to check in...

Tis the Season...

I am preparing for the intensive holiday bustle and I find that this season began bustling mid-November. I am not in the home stretch by any, well, stretch...

Children will soon be home from school, last minute presents will need to be located, baking to bake, presents to wrap, decorating to be completed, play dates arranged, post office trips to plan... I am stressed just crafting a cloud-like look at my remaining December. I have stopped and asked myself where I factor into all of this. This time of year more than any other, the focus is on doing, giving, going the extra mile so that God and family are recognized and my love is demonstrated. I have it all on a list but where do I land on this list? I find that I am pushed to the periphery more so than usual. As a mother, wife, full-time employee, home owner, I never place myself on my list so this is a new thought for me.

I have decided that the remaining moments of December will be fueled by preparation for the new - not fueled by fear, inadequacy, stress, or dissatisfaction. Why not stop, purge, let go, not to make room for new stuff that Christmas presents will afford, but to make room and to lighten the load?

I am so busy moving forward and skipping the moment I am in. I am so busy speeding towards the next thing and the following bazillion things that I miss the beauty and the joy in the present moment. What if I stood still and looked around where I am planted? What if I purged and detoxed my life in preparation for the newness that the New Year inevitably brings? What if I spent some moments now, in December, imagining what I would like this next year to be?

By shifting my focus to emptying my house of excess things that others may find joy in, I have lightened my load. My house may not feel like it is bursting with stuff I need to attend to. I might actually feel a light shining on this holiday. A light that comes with all that the Christmas season brings. A lighter step as I live not around stuff but intentionally with my family. An excitement of the newness that is fast approaching. I anticipate the joy that comes with embracing a beautiful and life-centered approach to this holiday season. I can then hug this time of year close to my chest while breathing deep and truly relishing the smell of evergreen that rests in the air.

And so it goes...

Time. Time is a fleeting thing. A thing that I find to fleet beneath my feet. I keep thinking that I will make the time to care for myself later on today, first thing tomorrow, or tomorrow night before bed. It does not matter what it is I am thinking of (reading, writing, exercising, meditating) it will not get done due to my profound super power ability to put off that which I desperately need.

Why? Why don't I choose to care for myself? Why do I instead use my energy to waste time in other ways instead of invest it where I need it most?

I have no answers other than to ask a question. What am I afraid of? What IF I take the next 10 minutes and allow myself to read a bit of the book I am currently craving? Will the world end? Will dinner be a little late? Will I get so involved in the book that it will feel like I am ripping out my heart by shutting the cover? What IF I offered myself the space to do one thing that I love for 10 minutes? What would happen to me? Would I be a little happier and a little more at peace? Yes, and this is nothing to fear. Instead, finding the little joy amongst the work, toil, and to do list might just be what I need out of this day...

I am worth more than my extensive to do list. Afterall, I am the inventor of my to do list. I am the all powerful to do list creator and with this comes great responsibility. Will I take joy in crossing off a completed item before moving on to the next thing requiring attention? I am going to try after I check off one more item...

Today, I will choose joy. Today I will choose to celebrate those items that I have completed without fretting about the rest of the list and all it entails. At the end of this day I want to look back and see how I cared for myself. I want to find one nugget where I can point and say, "See? I did that for me. And it felt good because I am worth every second of those 10 minutes. I am worth more than a list of to dos."

The Beginning...

I have been struck by the idea of kindness as of late. It is a word that is tracking me down. Making me take notice of her...


When I roll "kind" around in my mouth if feels warm and friendly. Kind sounds kind. The "k" starts out by grabbing immediate attention and then ends with an inviting tone. I need more warmth and more connection and this word gives it to me...

If I stop and examine my relationship with kindness, I note that I am not very kind to my self. Yet I hear an undertone in the dialogues with my children that speak to living and being full of kindness for others. So, why don't I apply this same standard to myself? 

So, here I am writing about a place I imagine that allows me to be kind. To stop midst a busy life. To sit in a nesting place of kindness. A virtual stop on the roadway of life, if you will. I welcome you on your own personal journey into locating your personal kind ~ nest.