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The Soul Buffer Zone

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about what it would be like to have a “soul buffer zone”. Having been raised codependent and since having children, my boundaries are a little wiggly. And the thought of having space around me that I keep myself safe within is really appealing to me. In fact it’s downright necessary if I’m ever going to make my life the zen experience I long for.The Soul Buffer Zone on Shalavee.com

The idea is that there’s a mental space between you and the outer world. And you intentionally maintain that by not letting people make demands on you, by not applying what is going on in the outside world to you, and by taking care of yourself so you feel kept safe by you. People’s comments or ideas are outside of you and you decide if you want to let them in. How about writing them down for consideration later even.

We are so besieged by information and demands from our internal and external worlds that we’re exhausted. When my daughter got sick simultaneously coinciding with a snowstorm, I definitely suffered from some post traumatic stress. I couldn’t escape. And what if we do that to ourselves regularly by not allowing for things to bounce off of us. Eventually, we are exhausted by osmosis.The Soul Buffer Zone on Shalavee.com

So I am going to be extra mindful this year about padding myself, creating things to look forward to, talking with my soul sisters face to face, and granting myself permission for time off. Demanding the same from my family. I think they could use to miss me and my efforts and become a little more appreciative. I’m creating a soul buffer zone because my happiness is worth it and other people’s happiness is based on it.

(Pictures in memory of Pama’s shop Moonvine which shut down this past February).

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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Time Alone With Me

It was like waiting for a fix. That last moment when the children were buckled up, the car door was closed, and I was waving goodbye from the porch. I could almost hear the shriek of glee in my brain at the thought of being free for a few hours in my own house where I’d been captive for the Thanksgiving holiday with a sick child. Post traumatic stress was threatening to move in again like it did when she was little and sick during the snowstorm. And I wanted no part of that feeling of disengagement and numbness again.time alone with me on Shalavee.com

All I want for my birthday and Christmas and Mother’s Day is time to myself. Time to write and catch up on email reading and play in my craft room. One day I may even like to watch a movie but it always feels wonderful to sit down and write. To schedule and sketch and think and hope. The luxury of all this was lost on my single self. Not now. Not ever again.time alone with me on Shalavee.com

I am savoring the rush and jangle of the heat vents, the puddles of sunshine in the house, that it’s 9:13 am and I’m still in my pajamas and there’s no one here that needs anything from me but me. And she’s getting her requests because she’s the most important person here today. At least for another hour before I have to go drink wine with my girlfriends. Woohoo!!!time alone with me on Shalavee.com

Hope you got you some you time too!!!

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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Rise Up To Meet Yourself Mama

I find I want to feel sorry for myself sometimes. I feel tired and wrung out from all the waiting on small people. I often hear myself say that if only… I had more time, more money, more childcare, I could …take more time to create, garden more, read more, think. Too many aspirations can be agonizing. And I extend my sympathies with each and every mother who wants to have a pity party for herself now, today, where she’s sitting. It’s agony on so many levels. we all start out knowing magic

I tried separating myself from these small crazy making beings. I tried to steal time before or after my day and then I made excuses for why I couldn’t. But what I think I was mostly doing was using them as an excuse to not try to do what I needed for fear I’d fail at my endeavors. And the thought that I used them to do that to myself makes my stomach churn.

As a Mama, I want to say it’s time to rise up and meet the challenge of what we need doing. With gentle strong powerful patience for ourselves and our children, we need to willfully move ourselves to the very next step above. You are more powerful than you remember. Don’t drop your plan for you by using them. Ride up to meet yourself on shalavee.com

Motherhood would never ask you to not be you. It asks you to be a better you. To be brave and to impress yourself. To make a plan you’d be proud to accomplish. Even if it takes you slow patient years to accomplish. You are the best mother when you use your role to model the self-respect, self-mentoring, and self-betterment processes and be a hero for both them and you. Being human, falling down and getting back up is a very noble process and one we owe ourselves and our children a chance to see us grab and run with.

If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

The Relentlessness of Motherhood

My go to word in describing parenting is relentless. My baby daughter, ungrateful and miserable, can cry at me at least ten times today, what feels like 70 percent of the day, beating me down further and further into defeat. The relentlessness is daunting.

You’re review is in. Fifty percent of today will not meet with her satisfaction and, according to her, you suck at parenting.

My top seven words to embody my experience with motherhood are:

  1. Chaos
  2. Temperance
  3. Perseverance
  4. Relentless
  5. Confusion
  6. Patience
  7. Exhaustion

All problems could be solved, you think, if only I had their money or their family. Those people with their 5 extra family members to spread out the stress of the 16 plus hours a-grueling-day of care-taking and giving. If only I had their time and money to buy nicer clothing to cover up my ever-widening butt until I could hire that trainer to help me widdle it down. For now, I wear my ill-fitting sweats, placing my greying thinning hair into something up-ish. My nails and cuticles dry and ragged for lack of care. I have that look of survival and neglect. That wild look that says I’ve thought about fleeing in my fantasies. The dull look of disbelief that this will get better no matter how many times people insist it will. Beaten and hopeless is all the rage in the truthful Mommy circles.At the grocery store years ago on Shalavee.com

If only I had the money to buy a SUV that I could comfortably load and buckle my child into without having the rain soak my back. Then I’d slip into the front seat and drive smoothly away to drop my privileged child off at that member of the care-taking team whose day it was to take them. Or I’d hire a housekeeper/child care-taking person as a stunt double so I could escape and make art or do lunch or have beauty salon time. Where’s my miracle money? My large ever-loving family? Where’s my get out of hardship free card?

No I won’t be looking forward to “taking care of myself” with a kale and flax smoothie tonight. Instead I’m thinking of making pasta with gravy, cheese, and deep-fried potatoes and a side of beef so that I can feel an ounce and moment of comfort that I never feel in my day-to-day existence. Wash it down with a 12oz glass of Shiraz and pray I can stay awake to watch any escapism television.Baby Fiona on Shalavee.com

Why is it wrong to want it to be easier than this? To want the release of the hardship and grinding daily agony. I want to feel light and unencumbered. I want privilege instead of lack. I want a child who doesn’t make me constantly feel like I’m failing her. I want to stand here in the winner’s circle and not the survivor’s circle. Like my mother did. Like hers before her. Because deep down I don’t believe there’s any other way for it to be but hard.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Weeding My Garden

This weekend was a glump of happy life happenings. It was a Mother’s Day weekend of wonderful gifts. My cooking hiatus started Thursday so carry out food it was for three nights in a row. Usually this would bother me. Not this weekend.

Caitlin and Fiona on Shalavee.comOur surrogate daughter Caitlin visited Friday and she and everyone else but me and Fiona went to see a local high school production. Instead, Fiona and I watched Follow That Bird, the Big Bird movie from the 80’s. Sweet. And then came Saturday, the day I’d been patiently awaiting. My gardening relief crew showed up as planned. The Uber Weeder on Shalavee.com

My garden story is a story of overwhelm and give up. But it was also a story I hated telling. So I asked for help from two women who I knew would bring it on strong. The uber-weeder and the disciplinarian/transplanter. I am so cheered and encouraged by their presence in my life and my garden. Hope has returned. And these are the thoughts that bubbled up for me on life and gardening. Ajuga takes over on Shalavee.com

Everyone’s got a life garden they are tending. The original garden plan is created in the family you grow up with but sometimes the major focal plants are just not what you want or need in your garden in your adult life. One person’s rose is another’s thorny weed. And so it’s up to you to decide which dreams and efforts are worth keeping and making the effort for and which need to be summarily yanked from that bed and tossed ceremoniously over the precipice. The Boobis Garden

Sometimes in my garden I’ll continue to coddle plants that needed the boot long ago. I’m a laissez faire gardener. Sometimes I make so much effort only to have half the garden get nuked by two freakish years of spring frost. Sometimes, we don’t want to make the effort unless we know it’s the perfect height and color plant in the perfect micro-climate in the perfect soil and light. Perfection is also a garden killer. And a life thwarter. Nothing grows if it’s not planted.New plants to kill on Shalavee.comBut most of the time you are taking a gamble on every single choice you make in the garden and your life. Once you expect the unexpected, you can start to hedge your bets. You’ll make good friends with people who have gardens and who have the sort life they can advise you on creating. You get medieval on the weeds and the negative influences in your life. And you keep your eye on the prize, your hands in the dirt, and you keep on digging, goaling, and doing. Awaiting my garden help on Shalavee.com

My garden is nothing like I’d like it to be. And yet, I am beginning to see my garden and my life not as a product but as a process. A learning process. Not as a destination but an adventure. My perception of how things are going is the only control that I have. The quality of my garden is both mine to make and to choose to then see. So I begin again. Enjoying the small moments, seeking some bigger ones to take root. And not trying to overachieve while I still have a wee Fiona ensconced in my soul and my time. All in good time.

(The story of my lovely mother’s day weekend will be another upcoming post. Talk atcha then.)

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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