beginning again

January 8, 2016

Thresholds. 

A musician spoke of them on the radio the other night. She said they are the places where what is old has passed away but what is new has not arrived yet. So you stand there at the door. And there is longing, even though you may not be sure what the longing is, yet.

I feel this. Is it because...January? Or is it this new decade which suddenly has four in front of it? Maybe it is the mystery of what will happen with my heart. I've been changing. We all have. I am not done yet. Are you? Pausing feels vital. On the other side of this door is a new way of relating. I do not know myself there, yet.

A soft knob waits for my touch to turn and unlatch its metal tongue from a small groove in the frame where a one-inch opening holds what is known safely on this side. Here, I can tell you exactly what I would have said. Here, I can tell you exactly how you would have responded. But there? I don't know for sure. Anything could be.

It will be different. We are not the same anymore.

So we stand here at the door. And there is longing, even though we may not be sure what the longing is, yet.

xo
laura

see the beauty first

January 6, 2015

See the beauty first. 

At the coffee shop, I noticed a man sitting with his son. Both wore expensive clothing but the kid's pants only came up as far as his upper thighs. It is embarrassing to admit but my first thought was judgmental. You know about those kids who won't pull their pants all the way up, right? Gangsters or wannabe gangsters. Troublemakers. That kid must have problems. 

That is when I caught myself. That is when I remembered what I learned in training to become a yoga teacher. "See the sri." It's the beauty. The inherent goodness. Yoga teachers are trained to look for it first in our students. Above all else. To look out at the bodies in front of us and notice what is beautiful about them, then let everything else flow from that perspective. We try to, anyway. We are human, too. 

I glanced around the coffee shop and saw it everywhere. In the light pouring through windows and from faces of people. I felt my heart expand and started to think about all of the good things being discussed, shared, worked on, created, collaborated...right there in the Starbucks on Madison Street. 

Looking again at the boy with half-pants and his well-suited dad, I smiled. They were talking. Having coffee together. Sharing something on an iPhone. Relating. Connecting. 

"Laura, how's your magazine coming? What Issue are you on?" I heard a voice from the barista making my coffee. It was Andrew, one of my favorites. He remembers things I tell him. 

"Issue Two," I said. "Still Issue Two. Everything is going more slowly that I originally planned, but it's designed and layout is done. I'm just waiting on one high-resolution logo thingy, then I can send it to the printer."

"That's so exciting," he said. "So many people quit when things don't go the way they planned. You keep going. I like that."

He was seeing the beauty first, too. And I felt grateful. It was the boost I needed.

Who will you see the beauty in today?

xo
laura

a camera-carrying creative ninja

January 5, 2016

"Our daily lives are wondrous. It's the small things."

I heard this on the radio last night as I stood in my kitchen slicing juicy red beets into a cast iron pan and wishing for more hours in the day. 

This new year already has a cadence much like the old one. I had a feeling it would. Forty years of experience have taught me that change happens in a heartbeat but transition takes longer. Transformation, well, that takes even longer still. 

I had hoped by some magic, though, I would find longer hours in 2016 days. They still feel short.

Today is Tuesday and my daily work is laid out before me...spreadsheets, messaging, AP Stylebook, a bursting email box, my phone. A list of things done and yet-to-do, an accounting of my time since 9 a.m. It is now nearly 3 o'clock.

Maybe, like my friend Amanda Ford suggested last year, I can learn to become a creative ninja. A ninja jumps in and out, finds opportunity in small moments, moves swiftly, with agility, passion, and seeming nonchalance. She is alert, awake, aware, patient, ready, and she acts. Boldly. In tiny minutes she does big things.

This 15 minute break to photograph the light in my office and write a short note to share with you...it's ninja practice. I want to do more. I thought about photographing the mud on my sidewalk this morning because it moved my heart...it reminded me of how all of us are down here in the brown mess of early January together, trying to feel new again and quietly wondering if we might be stuck.

My camera was not with me. It sparked a thought:

"I want to carry my camera everywhere this year. Everywhere."

So now I have a New Year's Resolution. To be a camera-carrying creative ninja. Every single day. 

You?

xo
laura