Boyhood

We have a beautifully restored theater in town. It attracts live performances as well as wonderful, independent movies. Playing now is “Boyhood”, an American coming-of-age drama, written and directed by Richard Linklater. It’s remarkable because it was filmed, with the same cast, over the span of 12 years.

I’ve been meaning to go see it, but haven’t found the time. Tonight I watched the trailer to see what I’ve been missing:

I got about 8 seconds in and I broke into tears.

I can’t go watch this movie. I have already lived this movie twice. I do not need to pay money and sit still for 166 minutes and be painfully reminded that I’m going to do it again.

And again.

I am living Boyhood.

As I brush my teeth, I turn and see the backs of two scrawny 7-year-old boys in their Scooby-Doo unders, arms draped around each other’s neck, shoulder blades sticky out at sharp angles, talking to each other into the mirror.

These are the babies that I rocked to sleep simultaneously while drinking in their milky scent, feeling their delicious weight on my lap. It all happens in such slow motion, that when I take a moment to stop the wheel, I’m a bit shocked to see what has unfolded right in front of me. As John Lennon said so eloquently in Beautiful Boy, (Darling Boy): “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.”

Yes, I know that is what this movie is about. I know what happens next. I do not need to be reminded, thanks very much.

I want to stay right here-where their gangly limbs have yet to grow muscles, their big teeth don’t quite fit their faces. I want to stay in this place of giggles and need. I don’t need to watch it all change in a little over 2 hours, no matter how big of an endeavor the film project was.

The real-time minutes are moving too fast as it is.

This...

This…

...becomes this

…becomes this

 

This...

This…

 

 

 

 

 

...becomes this

…becomes this

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This...

This…

 

...becomes this

…becomes this

 

 

“The only way to make sense out of change is to

plunge into it,

move with it,

join the dance.”  

~Alan Watts

All about Me

Friday morning. The lunches are packed. The kids are getting to school at 7:59:59 am. I am ready.

I’m taking off for the weekend. I’m running away and not making another meal for anyone but myself for two solid days.

I need to breathe.

I need to think.

I need to sleep for as long as I please.

I have a glorious life, one that I wouldn’t change, but I need to step away from it every now and then-step away and step back into myself.

I have to take time out of life to reconnect, to hear my soul. If not, life can soon become drudgery and that is a terrible thing.

Oh, I take some time every day for me. I do my meditations and enjoy my walks and yoga.

But I still need to run away. I still need a big chunk of time every couple of months to make it all about me.

Most of the time, the needs of others fill my days. I’m okay with it-it’s my job and one that I love.

But all jobs have days off, except the job of MOM.

That’s why it needs to be created. It needs to be built in. And no one’s gonna do it but Mom herself. The recipients of all of Mom’s hard work are happy to have her keep working-they don’t want her to leave. They like being taken care of. So they may not even notice when Mom is wearing out. In the end, it’s gonna be up to Mom to take care of Mom. She needs to be on the list, too.

She has to be, or she may not make it.

Oh, it won’t be a dramatic exit. It will be an insidious chipping away of her spirit. Little by little, day by day, she will get worn down and, eventually, she will have nothing left to give. And since giving is what we Mom’s do best, the emptiness will feel bad. Really bad.

No one likes bad.

So off I go. After years of these excursions, my family understands. Of course, they would rather I stayed home, but somehow they get that this benefits everyone in the long run.

Or maybe they just know that this is no longer optional.

I am going. 

It’s time for it to be All about Me.

This is where I'll be sitting.

This is where I’ll be sitting.

 

 

Goodbye. I love you. See you Sunday. xo

Simple things

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I love the exquisite beauty of a rose, the delicate layers of unfolding.

It’s September. Here in the Northeast it’s the most beautiful month of the year, as far as I’m concerned. The skies are blue, the air is lovely, the leaves are starting to turn and my roses are blooming again.

I have a few rose bushes dotted around my yard that I put in a few years back. I garden because I love how it makes me feel; I love seeing a plant that I put in take root and grow and produce beauty. My roses are my favorite because they share their gifts with me more than once, and often when I am not expecting it. 

Like this morning, I was just coming back from a walk with my dog and out of the corner of my eye, I saw something pink. I went right over to investigate because this was in an area of my yard that I have pretty much neglected this year. But there they were- beautiful, delicate pink roses hanging out with several hopeful buds.

Oh, this makes me so happy! This particular rose has a dreamy scent that fills me right up. I ran to get my clippers and selected my favorite bloom. In the house, I found the perfect little vase: a bottle I found on a hike with a dear friend. When I look at it, it reminds me of that day-a day full of laughter.

I fill the tiny bottle up with water, pop in the flower and place it on my windowsill. It sits between a heart shaped stone that a friend found on a beach in Seattle and gifted to me (how nice that she spotted it, thought of me, put it in her pocket and transported it all the way home…just for me!) and another that I found during a special weekend with women I love. As I sit typing, the breeze allows me to smell its perfume and when I glance up, there’s something lovely there.

Such a small thing, you may wonder why I even mention it. I do because it’s important. These little things matter! Small, intentional gestures are a type of self-care. Think of how nice it is to receive a flower from someone…it’s okay to give a flower to your lovely self, too.

It may sound a tad melodramatic, but these small efforts nurture my soul. They add quality to my life. They are solid proof of the beauty in the world, and right now, their beauty exists just for me.

My stones and my little bottle and my rose- they hold deep meaning for me because they connect me to something deeper: they represent abundance and beauty and love. And here they are, just  sitting on my windowsill, their only purpose to give me pleasure.

 

Simple pleasures + deep appreciation= soul nurturing.

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An essential formula for a beautifully balanced life.

Need some help finding your balance? Let’s start here.