divine intervention

one of my favorite novelists Elizabeth Gilbert shares her perspective on the creative process and reminds us of the wonderfully humbling and freeing practice of separating ourselves from both our successes and failures; encouraging us to put it all out there everyday in the way we know how and leaving the rest to divine intervention.

enjoy.

make it count

adam is such a great dad. while his work keeps him away from us more than we'd like (or he'd like, i'm sure) he really does make the time he is here, count. i'm sure if i worked as many hours as he does i'd be ready to flop on the couch, not to be disturbed. but he always has energy for them, no matter how tired i know he is. he's always coming up with new projects to do with them and new things to teach them. the other night i came downstairs to find him teaching sienna how to play checkers : ) come to find out, she's a natural...look at those kings! (or queens, as she likes to call them). and even though this hand print mold turned out to be worthless, the time he spent working on it with her was priceless. our girls have it good.

Our Big Girl

Olivia hasn't been feeling so hot the last few days, so yesterday we spent most of the day just taking it easy and enjoying the nice weather. Turns out a little rest and relaxation was just what she needed to finally take her first steps! They said at daycare last week that she took a couple steps there, but we had only seen her stand up, cruise along the furniture or down the hall holding the wall. But last night as we were just about to put the girls to bed, liv turned away from her little play table and took three adorable, wavering steps to me. We were all cheering and clapping, i'm sure we scared her to death! Adam and I looked at each other with this happy-sad smile. Our girl is growing up : )

How To Write A Letter

Garrison Keillor's perspective on this lost art form is so beautifully expressed. i look forward to more evenings like last night, spent in quiet comfort of the office (or soon, my retreat : ) writing to my grandmother. without backspaces and delete keys, i will have to force myself to be patient and thoughtful in a way that i don't have to be when writing on my computer; i will have to trust myself. i look forward to that process.

How To Write A Letter

{Garrison Keillor wrote this for his friend, Corrine Guntzel.}

We shy persons need to write a letter now and then, or else we'll dry up and blow away. It's true. And I speak as one who loves to reach for the phone, dial the number, and talk. I say, "Big Bopper here - what's shakin', babes?" The telephone is to shyness what Hawaii is to February, it's a way out of the woods, and yet: a letter is better.

Such a sweet gift - a piece of handmade writing, in an envelope that is not a bill, sitting in our friend's path when she trudges home from a long day spent among wahoos and savages, a day our words will help repair. They don't need to be immortal, just sincere. She can read them twice and again tomorrow: You're someone I care about, Corrine, and think of often and every time I do you make me smile.

We need to write, otherwise nobody will know who we are. They will have only a vague impression of us as A Nice Person, because, frankly, we don't shine at conversation, we lack the confidence to thrust our faces forward and say, "Hi! I'm Heather Hooten; let me tell you about my week." Mostly we say "Uh-huh" and "Oh, really." People smile and look over our shoulder, looking for someone else to meet.

So a shy person sits down and writes a letter. To be known by another person - to meet and talk freely on the page - to be close despite distance. To escape from anonymity and be our own sweet selves and express the music of our souls.

Same thing that moves a giant rock star to sing his heart out in front of 123,000 people moves us to take a ballpoint in hand and write a few lines to our dear Aunt Eleanor. We want to be known. We want her to know that we have fallen in love, that we quit our job, that we're moving to New York, and we want to say a few things that might not get said in casual conversation: Thank you for what you've meant to me, I'm very happy right now.

The first step in writing letters is to get over the guilt of not writing. You don't "owe" anybody a letter. Letters are a gift. The burning shame you feel when you see unanswered mail makes it harder to pick up a pen and makes for a cheerless letter when you finally do. I feel bad about not writing, but I've been so busy, etc. Skip this. Few letters are obligatory, and they are Thanks for the wonderful gift and I am terribly sorry to hear about George's death and Yes, you're welcome to stay with us next month, and not many more than that. Write those promptly if you want to keep your friends. Don't worry about the others, except love letters, of course. When your true love writes, Dear Light of My Life, Joy of My Heart, O Lovely Pulsating Core of My Sensate Life, some response is called for.

Some of the best letters are tossed off in a burst of inspiration, so keep your writing stuff in one place where you can sit down for a few minutes and (Dear Roy, I am in the middle of a book entitled We Are Still Married but thought I'd drop you a line. Hi to your sweetie, too) dash off a note to a pal. Envelopes, stamps, address book, everything in a drawer so you can write fast when the pen is hot.

A blank white eight-by-eleven sheet can look as big as Montana if the pen's not so hot - try a smaller page and write boldly. Or use a note card with a piece of fine art on the front; if your letter ain't good, at least they get the Matisse. Get a pen that makes a sensuous line, get a comfortable typewriter, a friendly word processor - whichever feels easy to the hand.

Sit for a few minutes with the blank sheet in front of you, and meditate on the person you will write to, let your friend come to mind until you can almost see her or him in the room with you. Remember the last time you saw each other and how your friend looked and what you said and what perhaps was unsaid between you, and when your friend becomes real to you, start to write.

Write the salutation - Dear You - and take a deep breath and plunge in. A simple declarative sentence will do, followed by another and another and another. Tell us what you're doing and tell it like you were talking to us. Don't think about grammar, don't think about lit'ry style, don't try to write dramatically, just give us your news. Where did you go, who did you see, what did they say, what do you think?

If you don't know where to begin, start with the present moment: I'm sitting at the kitchen table on a rainy Saturday morning. Everyone is gone and the house is quiet. Let your simple description of the present moment lead to something else, let the letter drift gently along.

The toughest letter to crank out is one that is meant to impress, as we all know from writing job applications; if it's hard work to slip off a letter to a friend, maybe you're trying too hard to be terrific. A letter is only a report to someone who already likes you for reasons other than your brilliance. Take it easy.

Don't worry about form. It's not a term paper. When you come to the end of one episode, just start a new paragraph. You can go from a few lines about the sad state of pro football to your fond memories of Mexico to your cat's urinary tract infection to a few thoughts on personal indebtedness and on to the kitchen sink and what's in it. The more you write, the easier it gets, and when you have a True True Friend to write to, a compadre, a soul sibling, then it's like driving a car down a country road, you just get behind the keyboard and press on the gas.

Don't tear up the page and start over when you write a bad line - try to write your way out of it. Make mistakes and plunge on. Let the letter cook along and let yourself be bold. Outrage, confusion, love - whatever is in your mind, let it find a way on to the page. Writing is a means of discovery, always, and when you come to the end and write Yours ever or Hugs and kisses, you'll know something you didn't when you wrote Dear Pal.

Probably your friend will put your letter away, and it'll be read again a few years from now - and it will improve with age. And forty years from now, your friend's grandkids will dig it out of the attic and read it, a sweet and precious relic of the ancient eighties that gives them a sudden clear glimpse of you and her and the world we old-timers knew. You will then have created an object of art. Your simple lines about where you went, who you saw, what they said, will speak to those children and they will feel in their hearts the humanity of our times.

You can't pick up a phone and call the future and tell them about our times. You have to pick up a piece of paper.

12 letters. 12 cds.

there are two remarkable people living 2,996 miles away. two people whose brilliance and indescribable love, patience, wisdom, humor and transcendent happiness have forever changed me, and the lives of anyone who have had the fortune to spend an hour in the presence of their good company. these two people are my grandparents, mildred and richard harvey.

this year, instead of getting sad and sorrowful over the fact that they live so far away, and that i can not immediately enjoy the comfort that is sitting in their living room, enveloped by their grace and exposed to the easy wisdom they impart, i have decided to forge my own experience and connection with them despite the distance.

12 letters 12 cds. is a series of 12 trans-continental letters and cds exchanged between myself and my amazing grandparents throughout the course of a year.

every month beginning with this one, my grandmother and i will exchange hand written letters. each letter will express a both a topic of our own choosing, and answer a question posed by the other.

for january, i'll fill her in on my grand plans for this project and ask her about what monday and tuesday of next week mean to her. i am fascinated to know by her own account what it could possibly mean, how it could possibly feel to see Barack Obama elected President of the United States. Especially in the context of what she has experienced in her life. A richly lived life that has seen first hand the horror of lynching, the degradation of growing up in the jim crow south, and now a person whose skin color would have prevented him from attending school, riding a bus, or entering any business through a front door in her day - elected president of that very same country. mind blowing.

my grandfather and i will exchange stories and connect via a different medium. anyone who knows my grandfather knows that his passion is music. so many early childhood memories i have toddling around that house on sandini road involve sitting downstairs in his music room with wall to wall shelves filled with thousands of albums, and 8 tracks and tapes, listening to him play the "good stuff" and tell me stories about this jazz musician or that soul singer. he knew every track, every lyric, and could be found on any given saturday afternoon sitting in his chair down there, eyes closed, headphones on, smile giving way only to his soulful humming.

our oldschool-newschool mixes will simply be an exchange of music that holds some meaning to each of us and that we would like to introduce to the other. he'll send me some aretha, i'll send him some amy winehouse and we'll enjoy the discovery and acknowledgement that some music never gets old, and some new comers got it right too.

i will be scanning and posting these letters and song lists each month as part of my ongoing genealogy project as well. off to write letter one and make my january mix.

how rude

i'm not completely familiar with the blogger etiquette handbook, but i'm going to put a new rule into practice: responding to comments : )

it doesn't happen all that often, but once in a while one of you is nice enough to send me a message in response to something i've posted. and i love it! i've said a hundred times that this blog is more a creative outlet for me than it is to inform or entertain any of you who might barely be interested, but when you post a note on here, i do really appreciate it.

it seemed presumptuous somehow that you would actually check back to see my response, so i've left them completely unacknowledged (gulp). how rude! i will be responding on here from now on, so please feel free to say hello. i'll say hi back : )

what i love about my new phone is

that i can stick my hand out the window and take photos like this as i'm driving home from work after a long day like today to remind myself that even on the crappy days, there is beauty all around us. always.

trust

a few years ago, my friend christie introduced me to this idea of choosing a word for the year. a word that not sums up the year you've just had, but on the contrary, helps shape and define the year ahead. a word that focuses your attention and sets your intention throughout the year.

favorite bloggers of mine ali edwards and christine kane have been posting about this exercise for several years. i'm so thankful that their inspiration has found its way to me where i am on my journey.

those of you who know me well, (or those of you who don't and just happen to read this blog), will not be surprised to learn that this is a scary proposition for me; the idea of choosing a single word to guide me. i have yet to be able to distill anything down to less than several dozen words. don't stop and ask me for directions. you may find it, but not in time. last year, my word of the year was: four words, actually - and that was after several rounds of editing.

so even the thought of choosing a.single.word. with whatever narrowness of meaning it might have, to be there for me throughout the year whenever i need to call upon it to make sense of a situation, help me find my way forward, or take over the reigns when i begin to revert back to my old devices, makesthisroomsfeelssmallallofasudden.

what if i choose the wrong one?

i didn't.

i am laughing because even this not-so-brief preamble is evidence of that.

trust

my word for 2009 has (perhaps not so) coincidentally been showing up frequently throughout the last year. the pack of 'trust' cards i stumbled upon a few months ago which so moved me i chose to purchase them for some of my closest women friends for christmas, the chance phrase turned mantra, 'trust your direction', my friend liz and i heard on our 8000 foot journey to the top of half dome, the automated confirmation email i received from christine kane the moment after i subscribed to her blog that said 'thank you for trusting me with your email address' (who says that?). and countless other random tidbits of advice i have received and experiences i have had that are just now piecing themselves together to muster an unmistakable directive: isis this is your word.

• noun:
1 firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.
2 acceptance of the truth of a statement without evidence or investigation.

• verb:
1 have confidence; hope
2 to permit to stay or go or to do something without fear or misgiving
3 (trust to) place reliance on

definitions for both the noun and verb have important meaning for me. the first connotations people often assign to the word trust have to do with the suspicion or not trusting of others. this year has very little (though some) to do with that.

for me, this year is about trusting myself and what faculties i may have (seen or yet to be seen) to steer me clearly and confidently. it is about trusting the journey; that the answers will present themselves when the time is right. trusting that this wisdom, this strong character i so desperately long for will surface in her own time.

trust is scary. i was recently was encouraged (required?) to make a paper snowflake. a fun, simple task, no?

no.

i was so surprised to find my self getting more than a little stressed trying to follow the direction of folding a triangle into thirds (if i screw this part up, then my little creation will be a failure from the start). and even after making it through that first part, i was surprised by the hesitation i showed in cutting it out (that is supposed to be the carefree and flawlessly fun part, remember).

yes, for me trust is not worrying about the outcome and enjoying the process; trusting that all will be good. trust allows you to be still amidst uncertainty; calm in trusting that everything is unfolding as it should.

Trust involves risk. what we risk while trusting is the loss of things we entrust to others; the exposure of things we entrust to others. (our love, our safety, our hearts, our dedication, our fears)

Trust is about action. i am beginning to realize that all of my inaction and wavering and indecisiveness and calculating are a result of me not trusting the answers within me.

Trust is also, then, about confidence.

Trust is about courage; it is about being bigger in my life and caring less about the numerous potential outcomes and who will think what and what will happen if...

Trust is about authenticity; starting each day remembering who I want to be (or easier, who i don't), and trusting myself enough to make choices that are true to that desire. even if that means detaching more from certain habits or people in order to open myself to the possibility of a deeper inner connection.

My point is that all of these words could have been my word of the year; and i did, (shockingly) consider all of them. then I realized that none of them would manifest if I don’t first learn to trust. myself. my decisions. others. their decisions. And all the things I do not yet know for sure.

leap and the net will appear
- Zen saying

my word for the year

winter song

winter song on the hotel cafe album has been a favorite of mine this month. i found the first video on youtube of sara bareilles and ingrid michaelson in studio and the official video on imeem. something inspiring about watching people so young and talented and creative and beautiful doing what it is they were clearly meant to do. enjoy : )