the power of detail

"It is important to say the names of who we are, the names of the places we have lived and to write the details of our lives. We have lived; our moments are important." -Writing Down The Bones


Honestly, the past few weeks have been stressful. And I'd be lying if I said anything along the lines of 'and we're handling it well' or 'we are just taking it one day at a time'. Oh, Aimee-- you'd say. Get a grip. Well, here's the thing about that grip. I hadn't realized before all of this, how tightly I had been holding.

Up until this point, I'd proudly tell you how Type A I've been most of my life. It's the First Born-Want-Need-To-Be-Right tendencies that have propelled me forward in situations that make me feel like I've got it all together. Funny how life lets you know how little control you actually have....funny how much I've forgotten that over the years. So much so that the last week I've lost my appetite and haven't been able to sleep.

Because I can't control when our house gets sold.
Because I can't control what house we will end up buying.
Because I can't control what job I will get.
Because I can't control when we will actually be moving.

And so much more. I'm telling you, right now there's not a lot we can control. And I know this. I scream this out loud to everyone that will listen. But when I'm alone, when I'm within the walls of myself, I whisper it very quietly where only I can hear-- surely I actually am the one in control, right? 

Really, we all learn this differently in hard ways. We have very little to do with many big things. And that's frightening. That's driving without your hands on the wheel. We all do it. We don't admit it, but it happens. It's not how we prefer to get around. For mere seconds no one is in control and yet we still glide down the road. What if I told you that even when your hands are at ten and two, you still weren't in control? That's what my last week has felt like...

So what can you do? What can you possibly do when life feels like this?

I've been gathering up my threads, my little pieces. The details. They are what I can hold within the palm of my hand.  The pigments that eventually show up as the entire picture. They are what I grip onto when I feel myself squirm inside. I know that they are just as important because they matter.

The cold wet hair that is brushed after a shower.
The lemon wedge squeezed into a glass of water.
The breathy record playing on a turntable.
The oven timer announcing a batch of warm cookies.
The small fingers turning pages of a book.
The familiar voice calling just to say 'hello'.

I know it sounds silly, but these are the pieces that are holding it all together. String these up and they make up an afternoon. They make up a lifetime of our experiences that would otherwise be muddled through and unnoticed. I need them right now. I have needed them always. Some people call it sentimental. I call it eating and sleeping again.

Because they matter. We all matter. And as much as we celebrate the big and flashy moments...I also want to recognize the small and simple ones too.

Eventually this will all find its end of chapter conclusion. We will move on. We will be in a new town, in a new house, in new jobs and the kids will be in new schools. I can't control every aspect of that long run on sentence. The idea of that made me want to pull my hair out. But I think it's life's little plan to keep us guessing. What fun is it to know it all?

Just for this moment...I don't know. And that's okay.
What I can appreciate are the little reminders around me to simply slow down.

spring break in the sunshine state

Here it is almost April, and I just realized that I had been hoarding all of the pictures from Spring Break. It feels like a whirlwind since we've made that trip. And so in an effort to clean out everything and make room for new (catch the undertone in there?), I'll get them out so everyone can see.

Believe it or not, but the kids and I had never been to Florida. I tell people around here, and they look at me like I've lost my mind. The lighter side of me takes it as a compliment, the fact that I blend in so well that Southerners start to think that I'm from around here. No worries, my Kansas still shows when it needs to. And my newfound Pacific Northwest likes to make itself known as well. I'm just full of surprises. The good news, Florida is too.

It wouldn't be Florida without pink palaces...

...and glamorous hotels that remind you of that ritzy place you stayed in when you were a kid. 

Complete with an order for room service...those battered french fries and a decadent piece of pie appearing from the hallway made the kids' faces light up in a way that I'll never forget.

What did we enjoy the most? If you asked me, I would tell you all about these sunsets at the beach. It was a first for me to see the sun sink into the water's edge. I could see it over and over again. Luckily the rest of our family let me soak it up while we had the chance. These colors... a backdrop that I long to see again. 

We loved sitting out at a restaurant on the beach...feet in the sand and taking it all in.

On our last day in the sunshine state we went to St. Augustine to stroll the historical sites. We stumbled onto this palmy fort. 

Once we landed back in Georgia, we decided to spend some time in Savannah. There's just something about this place that keeps us coming back...

River Street Sweets...their homemade pralines and bear claws are well worth the calories. Trust me on this one.

I'm still a huge scaredy cat when it comes to the ghost tours, but it didn't stop us from doing our own nighttime exploring. You can feel the soul in the parks and houses within the historic district. Can't you just imagine strolling through here in the early 1900s?

Tybee Island is another favorite stop for us. We love the wide open beaches and pastel skies to close out the day. We even got to experience some of the infamous St. Patrick's Day celebrations. They were almost a week early, but it didn't stop them from wearing green and having shamrock parades.

We hope everyone had a relaxing spring break, if you were able to have one. We were so glad to get the chance to spend some time together as a family. Something that I'm making sure not to take for granted these days.

Life is about to get a little more hectic as we ease (ahem) into this new chapter of our lives. In a few short months things will look a little different. And as scary as it seems sometimes, I can't help but feel nostalgic for this moment...right here, right now.

Breathe in this lovely opportunity for growth and change. There's so much beauty on the horizon...

nurture

This week has been interesting.

There have been many things to keep my mind preoccupied. But perhaps that is always the case. Rest assured, I tell myself, the politics will still be there the next time you turn on the TV.

Every year I try to pick out one word to focus on moving forward. The more time that 2016 has been here, the more I'm leaning toward the word "nurture." Taking care of. Being attentive. Giving myself permission to love myself with the little ways that I know and are important to me. Getting more hours of sleep at night. Eating foods that are good for my body. Exercising for health, not just body image. Taking long warm baths. Drink tea with honey and a side of lemon. Watch a movie without thinking of my to-do list. Write a letter. Listen to my favorite song and dance along. Wear a sentimental piece of jewelry. Bring out the fine china for a piece of toast. Blow bubbles in chocolate milk. Read a dearest childhood book. String twinkle lights on a quiet window. Spend an afternoon looking up at the sky. Exploring a new town. Printing pictures out and setting them in random places. Calling up a friend.

In its most simple form, just loving my own experience as a human being.

Not putting myself through this constant state of torture. I make fight or flight a competition sometimes. And I don't know about you, but it's an exhausting state of being.

I would like to treat myself better. I take care of so many others, and in the process deplete my own compassion without replenishing it. The result is the emptiness that I carry with me. Constantly trying to jump start it with insane amounts of caffeine to "rally" throughout the day.

When I was pregnant with both of the kids, I had this way of switching gears. Instead of worrying about all of the things there is to worry about-- I became protective of the body that I had. Not getting angry at it. Not being judgmental or abusive in the slightest of ways. I knew that I had a very important job to do. And so that maternal, nurturing side took over. It was bliss. I listened to my body's cues. If I was overdoing it, I scaled back. If I needed more time, I gave in. I had the healthiest relationship with myself each time. Not just physically-- but mentally and spiritually too. We were in it together.

It would be nice if we could be gentle and caring about ourselves outside of pregnancy. Not that I didn't enjoy the whole growing a child experience...but we should be allowing ourselves this simple yet important role at all phases in adulthood.

So, this is what I'm going to do. Let's figure this out together.

Aimee, I am going to listen to you. To love you. Like no one else can. I am going to nurture you. Care for you. Be gentle and kind. Compassionate and understanding.

I'm going to take care of you.

Because I have permission and do so unapologetically. It's not selfish. It's not narcissistic. It's not even all that self absorbed in the way you probably did back in high school.

This is the real deal.

Because I'd like you to be content and happy in this one special life that you've been given. And you deserve all that it has to offer.

Really, you do.

seen, heard, felt. here

All these things in life that get your blood moving through you. The flustered moments. The way our day races by. The annoying tasks or busyness which gradually takes its toll. Sometimes I wonder how we forge on. When do we decide it's better to hold our breath and pace through instead of interpreting our insides which glow with fire. A fire that wants change. Wants the circumstances to be different. Wants the outcome to go otherwise. Perhaps just someone to climb in and see the world from our point of view.

I think that's where the most frustration settles in and grows. We want to be heard. We want to be understood. We want our pain to be shared-- or if not entirely shared, just realized. There is so much hurt in this world. And we all have our own perception of it all. Perhaps when we feel comfortable enough to share our struggles, that is the moment we feel we have permission to grow. When the grunts and tears have the accelerated force to make something beautiful from it. We want to see the beauty. We want to see the end through. To know that all of it was for something. That we didn't fall short in some cosmic way and warrant the need to repeat it again and finally get the point.

I hurt, therefore I am human. We are all human therefore we connect. We all connect and we are not alone. We are not alone and so we are one. Whole. Home.

I don't want an easy existence. It's boring, it's tedious. It's not real. But I also don't want to feel like the pushing, the pulling, the constant movement-- is for nothing. Strength builds because we break muscle over and over; allowing the body to adjust and acclimate to physical demand. Ingenuity grows because our brain carves, folds and creases; giving us the capacity to store and process new information.

The soul though. Oh, it's so much more complex. My soul is quiet and steady. Waiting and watching, taking the whole thing in. Sometimes I wonder if it prefers to stay dormant. Is it breathing? Does the chest rise? And then, out of the silence it shakes me. The tremble is an earthquake. Breaking up the thoughts, fears, and complacency lined walls that I've carefully built.

YOU ARE HERE.

It begins.

You are a very important piece of something so big, so brilliant, so complete.... 
it wouldn't be, without you. 

You are here. You are seen. And heard. And felt. And loved.

Loved, completely.

It is all for something. Something is building inside of you. Big. Tremendous.

Your piece is significant. All of it-- meaningful.

And so I keep steady. Whatever life may bring, I know that it's not wasteful or unnecessary. It's here, just for me. What I do with it has purpose for our greater whole. In some resonating, soul-builidng way... my struggle, is your struggle. Our struggle is our growth. Together, we are building something.

And I've heard, it's simply beautiful.

a little about lately

It seems as if I've become less visible on this blog lately. It's not an accident. I've been trying to become more conscious of getting back into our groove. Working on setting out intentions for our year to come. This year of potential great change. But more on that later.


For now, I'll distract everyone with cute pictures of these two...

Today Katelynn told me that she felt different and out of place from many in her class. Not too concerned for our little independent soul, I asked her why she felt that way.

"Well, Mom I just like to read a lot. And other kids they don't know why. But I just do."

Second graders, huh?

I thought to myself before speaking, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. Putting away my speech "those who like to beat to their own drum" for another day.

I answered, "You know what sweetie, you keep reading. Because when I was younger I made a wish that my future kids someday would be big readers."

She looked at me closely, her eyes scanning my face.

"Did you wish on a shooting star?"

I nodded.

"Then I guess it came true."

Caleb has a new little routine in the morning that touches my young heart. When Mark takes Katelynn to school, Caleb and I have 20 minutes to ourselves before he walks to the bus stop by himself. He gets his backpack ready for the day, then picks up a book while asking, "Mom can I read to you?" I'm surprised I can keep it together in the mornings and not turn into a soppy puddle of gratitude. I will never tire of our kids reaching for books. This is everything.

Caleb had his second middle school band concert this month. He loves getting dressed up and performing. We are fortunate, here in Athens, to have a community that supports the arts. You can tell by the way the band teacher cares about growing each of the kids. We are so proud of this opportunity for Caleb...he enjoys the trombone but is "open" to trying other things. After the concert he expressed an interest in the percussion instruments. Taking after his father.

Katelynn had a simple, fun request to provide a unique service to our neighbors. She wanted a table outside for a "Paper Plane Making" company. If the customers provided the paper, she would make them a paper plane for FREE! Unfortunately, the rainy day turned our efforts inside and we had so much fun practicing making planes and then testing them on unfortunate Lincoln Log houses. Can't say we had too many predictable flight patterns-- but we did have a lot of fun. As for the future company...we're open and ready for business as the days get warmer.

It's so funny, I go through phases where antiquing/thrifting takes over my subconscious like something out there is calling me. I fight the urge, but more often than not I find myself in the familiar corners of previously owned treasure. I can't help it. All this time I used to think it a silly hobby, but with more practice I'm starting to find that it is a source of inspiration. My soul knew this long before I caught on. So away I will continue to go...you keep digging long enough and it will find you.

Speaking of soul-finding...ever since my journey to the Pacific Northwest I have been obsessed with fog. There's something completely mystifying about that heaviness in the air. Colors brighten for me. The world looks like it stops and goes back a few hundred years. Hauntingly beautiful. Here, now-- listen to this and see it...

Katelynn calls these water droplets rain crystals...and I love how beautiful the world is in her eyes. It reminds me to look beyond the ordinary. Beyond the gray skies and the four walls that our lives become confined to. To take a closer look and see the simplicity of water droplets. Let them be our compass. Search for the little reminders that we are here. We matter. Even down to the tiny molecules that make things what they are. As small as it seems, it's still important. Everything is a part of us...we are all connected. We are all rain crystals.

Many people have been asking about my writing. This excites me so much. To have this kind of support system surrounds me like a big, warm hug. It is inspiring and makes such a difference in a writer's life. While revising and reworking my novel that I wrote for NaNoWriMo I had a lightning fast-movie-preview-sort book idea. It was incredibly powerful and has taken much of my focus these days. So I'm trying to figure out this incredible honor of writing two stories at the same time. I don't know if it is even possible, but the vibe I get in the creative world is that anything is possible. So I work, tediously at times, tirelessly at times, to bring these big ideas into the book-binding form that can be shared to all who want to read. I am getting my writing groove figured out, more importantly. Figuring out how to best come to the pen and paper. What works and doesn't work. What is feasible for life as a wife, mother, nurse, etc. I will figure it out, no worries. But have decided to also pursue other short story-article writing on the side for my "mental" breaks. I will say, it won't be too long until I start asking for some serious, trusted readers for the content that I'm writing...just so I can get a clear picture of the message that I'm working across. Please let me know if you'd be so interested. I'd be very grateful. And will do my best to keep it interesting.

Until next time, I will leave you with my favorite quote from the late Harper Lee's 'To Kill A Mockingbird'. Her words will echo throughout the generations. A reason why we each strive so much to build something with our own two hands. We want to leave something in this world for others. She did in so many ways, and for that I am eternally grateful.