Wednesday, January 9, 2013


The final frontier.

All too often we moan and pine for more space. Space in our life, space in our home. Why? Well, to put more stuff in! We wish and wish for more space, and then when we have some, we rush to fill it, with things, with clutter. The clutter could be our stuff that have too much of, or the noise and busy-ness that we create to avoid being in our skin. When there are empty pauses in conversation, we're anxious to rush to fill that, too.

But, we never take time to be grateful for just an empty spot, a place or time in which there is nothing. We never appreciate the Nothing. The Potential.

Throughout most of my adult life, I have gone out of my way to accomplish, to fill, and after wishing for more space, I immediately filled it. Perhaps it was because I was afraid that unless I did, I would never be enough.

I've finally allowed myself to sit with the silence, and to quiet that guilty part of me that wouldn't allow Space to be in any part of my life. I am finally comfortable with the quiet, and the nothing.

I am grateful for Space.


Sunday, November 18, 2012

Because, donuts. Ok?

I'm really grateful that this place exists. Where would I be without my occasional donut fix?

Friday, November 16, 2012

Monday, December 5, 2011

Commitment - to make enduring, meaningful commitments

Is it ironic that the 'Commitment' card sends me away from this blog for 2 months? Maybe, maybe not. What's not ironic is that I have noticed that I'm feeling a little blue, and I haven't been working on this - my pet happiness project. That's no coincidence! 

I've been rolling over what 'commitment' means to me since I pulled this card. The first thoughts I have on this concept are around marriage, which I have automatically gone to as the context for this word. The concept takes on a new flavor now that I'm freshly divorced. Commitment used to mean staying with the same partner, no matter what happened. This was something that came easily to me, sometimes to my own detriment. I was willing to overlook a lot of things in order to remain committed - and I think I grew from the experience.

I am committed to my boyfriend/partner/lover/significant other/main squeeze (I haven't landed on the title that best describes my relationship with him). What I call him doesn't matter, my feelings for him are what they are, and I know we are committed to each other. My commitment to him is different for me, in that I feel I am operating less from impulse and more from a place of deep connection and comfort. It feels like the most natural thing in the world - of course I'm committed to him. 

The act of commitment also extends to my children - I will always commit to things that are good for them, and things I want to do with them. This is another place that is easy for me - of course I'm committed to being a parent.

Just as crazily, I am committed to my pets and their unreasonable needs. Naked cats require a little more commitment than the average kitty, what with bathing them and clothing them. This is a relatively thankless task, but the payback for me is that they crack my shit up constantly.

I get so much out of all the committed relationships in my life, it's a rewarding contemplation.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Achievement - to have important accomplishments

I am a classic list maker/achievement junkie. I thrive on making lists and checking things off when I've completed them.

I never realized how much achievement meant to me until I consciously set a goal and reached it. While my goals have kept getting bigger, the sense of accomplishment has never diminished. I have always felt the same warm satisfaction when I've finished something I've set out to do: I did that. I own it. Me. Not someone else.

Over time, I've found that the satisfaction stays for longer, the more achievements I've accomplished. I've felt more confident and more happy in myself. As someone once told me, accomplishments are portable. No one can take away achievements once they're complete.