out of the doldrums

Oof! End of summer (school started up this week) has hit me hard. It has been a busy season - 4 trips in 2 months - with no shortage of emotional twists and turns. August arrived and I was knackered but ready for a shift.  Well, not the shifts of a preteen Cowgirl (cue: eye rolls, heavy sighing, stomping and flouncing. I ask you, is there any better flouncer than an almost eleven-year old?) 

perfecting her "tough"  you can't tell me anything look

It seems perverse that school is back in session with the best pool days of the season happening now. It is hot here which means  ...

tomatoes!

and peppers!

pepper-mania! an entire 4 by 4 foot box filled with jalapenos, cayenne, poblano and green peppers

and all sorts of garden activity.

We've been roasting tomatoes for freezing along with making vats of salsa and gazpacho soup. What the Husband has in mind for this bumper crop of peppers, I have no idea but it should worry me!

yes, an entire jar of hot pepper puree

Meanwhile, I've felt like I was stuck in quicksand as the more I attempted to fight my way out of the doldrums, the deeper I sunk in. A friend sent me a useful article on the proper technique for dealing with real quicksand and I found its advice effective in my situation. It counsels to lay back and relax, allowing oneself to basically float upon the quicksand. Slowly being lifted up, one is then able to pull legs out and roll away.  

Which is what I ended up doing yesterday after a mild bout of food poisoning. A day spent flat on my back (and curled into a fetal position) not doing anything because I couldn't do anything! Yeah, I love how life works this way: what I cannot do for myself, the Universe steps in and does for me. Often against my will and judgment, but it always works out.

Speaking of working out ... Moose dog received a clear report on his tumor biopsy! So he gets to keep his toe and I have my muse for awhile longer. 

If nothing else, the past year has shown me that my sketch journal is my very best way of riding upon any emotional wave whether it be grief, fear, overwhelm or the doldrums. For no matter how intense life can seem, picking up my pen and turning to my sketch diary is my best move. It allows me to ease into the moment and rather than escaping, it offers a pause so that I can find spaciousness around what is. This is what I've known from yoga practice and what I seek to bring into my life more fully: that in any given moment, I am more than just my body, more than just my emotions, more than just the thoughts in the mind. I am all of that ... and I am more. 

And there is so much more to take in, to open myself up to ... so much more that waits in the wings ready to inspire and delight me ... ready to offer me insight and guidance on how to proceed. 

On this day - which is still summer even if my girl is in school -  I can step outside and be in wonder and in ease. 

With my sketch diary and Moose dog by my side.

With gratitude for Terri who recently contacted me about my Sketch Diary Explorations offering from August 2014. I hope to create a new offering, probably not until 2016. But for anyone interested in this 6 week/6 lesson summer camp, I am more than happy and able to send it out either once a week for 6 weeks or all at once (in 6 emails). Full information can be found HERE. To sign up, contact me at: Lishofmann88(at)gmail(dot)net and I will send you an paypal invoice. As there is no formal group class, price is adjusted to $35.
 

hand holds

As much as I seek community and foster supportive circles for creative and for spiritual practice, at the end of the day I know this path is a lonely one.

Lonely in the sense that only I can carry the load I've been tasked to move for this stretch of ground.  The gremlins of fear and doubt are of my own creating and therefore only I can slay them. Or rather, befriend and tame them as their purpose is not so much to derail me, as to protect and safeguard me.  Understanding their motives - to keep little Lisa safe - is to recognize they speak in the voice of the small, frightened, isolated me. And that, my friends, is not the totality of Me. Or you. This is when I need to draw upon guidance that provides a wider perspective, one that allows me to take in the fuller picture I am supported and cared for by forces far greater than what my limited senses can perceive.

 

I've been thinking that my frustration in community experience - no matter how loving and attentive my sisters may be - I still face the confusion and challenges alone.  How am I to proceed? What is the right action?  How to I find ease and comfort? How do I contribute to love and trust, rather than feeding fear and doubt?

Yet there is companionship ... brilliant points of light in the dark ... which may not make the struggle any less arduous but is comfort in the sense of yes, the task of healing is a universal one.  I don't want to avoid it because that only drives the pain in deeper.

One friend recently articulating what I've been struggling to understand:

I have been wanting to slurp from a straw "the answer" -- can I just pay you to do the hard work and heavy lifting so that I can slurp up spirit and truth and light and answers without having to even lift a hand? No more laziness. No more relying on others to do this work for me. It doesn't work.   

The loneliness forces me to dig deeper ... within myself, within my practice. I have to do my work.  This is my practice.  Attending to my life which has beautiful, soul stirring highs ...

... and the usual lows that come with being human and living in community.  Aging. People being unkind to others. Actions stemming from ignorance and fear. 

At the end of the day, I can choose to crumble or I can take action. As a spiritual teacher once shared, even small steps bring freedom from fear. 

These past few weeks, I've turned to my sketch book and to my meditation practice.  Both offer solid ground ... a place to regroup, rest, and attune to what is really true in this moment. And this moment. 

 What I can do is remember myself whole. Connected to Source.  This is how my practice sustains me.  Like a fire, I feed it and it rewards me with warmth and light.

Taking deep breaths helps.  Remembering all this IS my life ... running my mother to her many doctors appointments, sitting on the metal waffle iron that passes as a bench at Cowgirl's martial arts center, cleaning the toilets, walking the dog (there's a lot of poop in one's life), standing in line at the pharmacy waiting for my mother's prescriptions (eye-opening is the sight of pharmacists like line-cooks at McDonald's filling a towering pile of medications  ... drugs and waiting ... benefits of modern living?), and the usual host of tasks necessary to keep the day jerking forward.

Lurking underneath it all is the Not-knowing ... so much we cannot and do not know!  But rather than despair (have been facing that one with an aging parent) I choose to think about Mystery.  Opening to it, allowing it to simply be.  Do I have any other choice?  Would I want it otherwise?

I like magic, I believe in everyday miracles  - the hummingbird at my feeder, the sight of my sleeping girl cradling a stuffed lovey, the connections I've made with so many amazingly inspiring individuals - I show up afraid, uncertain, confused and am continually amazed to receive so much.

A new session of my online offering The Gift of Practice begins September 22.  All the details plus early registration bonus can be found HERE.    

I can't do the work for you, but I share how I pace myself for the journey, how practice offers me hand holds when life is a rocky and vertical climb. Some days, all I can do is cling on, but other days the climb is exhilarating.




 

grounding

feet

eyes

(and ears, 

and nose, 

and tongue, 

and skin) 

hands

heart

this is how i 

honor my 

self

this is how i

ground my

self

this is how i

show up

for my

life

every

day

every day.

 
 

#118/365 ... my drawing a day practice ... still wet with grass stains

 

Curiosity, Connection, & Celebration are my beacons. Practice - creative, spiritual, mindfulness & self care - nurtures those aspects of my being. I fill myself up so in turn, I can offer those gifts back to the world. It is a lovely flow! 

What I practice matters little.  It is the Why - the intention - that has me showing up every.day.no.matter.how.shitty.or.how.wonderful.it.feels. 

 

When I commit to my practice, I am committing to my life. to my life. I am casting my vote for love ...  joy ... faith ... belief ... trust. 

I am digging into the marrow, the juice of practice and already I can feel the charge opening me up. Good things coming ... colorful, messy, wild things.  Deep, soul-rich, finally YES! things.  The rumpus begins May 5 and I'm digging out my party shoes. (Got my blue toes ready, as you may have seen)

'Nuf said.  If you are wanting more, I'd love to have you join me here.  

an insistent call ...

I consider myself somewhat of an expert in daydreaming. As a child road trips involved flopping about the backseat of my mother's cream colored Impala to find a comfortable and cool spot out of the sun (this being the era before air-conditioning and mandatory seat belt use) and staring out the window, creating movies inside my head to pass the time. To this day, I tend to fall mute on any road trip my interiority annoying to The Husband who would talk or listen to music. 

My nature is quiet and rather sloth-like.  Yet there comes a time when I must apply effort to channel the inner out.  A backlog of ideas, images, impulses to create a specific thing rattle around my head, distracting and disturbing the peaceful, easy daydream feeling.

So I find myself reaching for familiar structures of support as I seek to birth a fantasy long-held and only half-heartedly attempted in the past.  I know when I seek the freedom of creative energy I must exercise a fair bit of discipline and structure to constructive channel this energy.

I turn to what I know from 20 years of a yoga practice: show up daily, set a clear intention, be open, let go of my notions of what should or ought to happen (way too small for magic to exist in) and hold space for the unexpected to arise.  The foundation is hard work: I must do my part and then trust Creative Flow to come in and take care of the rest. To meet any Call is to suspend the rational, logical mind in favor of the spacious, daydreaming, anything-is-possible-when-you-step-out-of-the-way mind. 

Still, one must go in prepared ...

Practice is how I prepare for the magic.  Practice is how I clear space for the miraculous. Practice makes us more likely to be accident prone in the sense of hearing the Call and the grace in knowing it is speaking to me.  

I would love some company on this portion of the journey ... I would love to support you in making your way:




Further details and registration information can be found here.
Final days for early bird registration and bonus gift of a mentoring session.

There's no perfect time to start ... you just have to decide you can no longer wait ... you must choose to answer the Call before you can surrender to it ...

my notebook obsessions (vlog post)

Lifting the curtain here ... a little peek into my chaos ...

For no other reason than it is Spring (finally!) and time to shift through the seed packets and sow some new life ...


password: journallove
direct link here


And announcing the Spring session of my favorite offering: The Gift of Practice

  
Real knowledge does not come from books. It is gleaned through the experiences of life: through personal encounter, through the body, the senses, and through the heart. It is through practice – regular attention and engagement with the multitude of details and treasures that make up daily life -  that I evolve and grow.

 for all the details, including Early Bird special offering, go HERE.

Diving back into my journals ... How is Spring calling to you? What wants to come out into the sun and play?


 

summer's last fling

The summer heat is not about to let go and I am following its cue and holding tight to these last precious days ...

Favorite moments from the past few days ... gratitude for what is my habit: to reach for my camera, allowing the lens to pull me more deeply into the beauty of the moment as it unfolds before me ...

  

What memories will you carefully pack away?  What will sustain you on a blustery, gray, winter's day?  Mingled in my memory will be the sweetness of watermelon, the dusty scent of lavender, the song of the evening crickets and the luxuriousness of long days with my girl. 

Take time to remember ... for all too soon, we forget.

Happy holiday weekend to my American friends. xo

Fumbling my way through ...

It is unbearably hot and strong, furnace-like winds have melted away any ambitions beyond reaching for a popsicle and making our way to the swimming pool after Cowgirl gets home from school.

My drying rack is handling heavy duty laundry as the Husband just returned from a 5 week adventure away from home to make an independent film.  Didn't you hear me bitchin' about all the yard work, double-shift parenting and dog walking duties?  I think I was too exhausted to complain. It's good to have him home ... although I may need a second drying rack ... laundry hanging being a wonderful opportunity to shift through some more brain lint ...

I just heard what sounded like banjo music coming from our bachelor neighbor's backyard.  For a brief moment I thought "He must be learning to play!"  I don't know why such an idea sent a frisson of excitement through me ... perhaps it is my own ukulele ambitions and the notion of neighborly support or a local folk band forming.

I play a mean "You Are My Sunshine" and "Puff the Magic Dragon" ...

Yes, well.

What struck me today was the fact that my work - MY WORK - as such appears to have settled into writing.  Which I find fascinating and amusing in an ironic sort of way because any writing assignment for college or grad school had me parked close by the toilet; the anxiety impacting my digestive system along with my nervous system (I had a little bout of Trichotillomania - the irresistible urge to pull one's hair out - while writing my master's thesis; a river stone in the palm of my hand became my self-soothing device.)  Although I found writing term papers draining, I was always exhilarated by the end result of gathering up the muddle that is my mind and formulating some sort of coherent perspective.  I was often surprised to realize "I know all that?"  

I think that is what the poet David Whyte means when he talks about the creative process as coming to the edge of our understanding about oneself and the world, and taking the courageous step into uncharted territory.   He talks about the call to commit to  the necessary, central conversation which involves voluntarily stepping into the space of our unknown, dropping the armor of identity and risking the discovery that who we are is not what we know - not a static being - but one that is constantly evolving, growing, shedding, dissolving and re-forming as we engage in the conversation of living.
This is what brings me back to writing - and at other times in my cycle, painting or photography or art journaling.  As taxing as this process is - wandering through my thoughts and words and fragments of ideas - each time I willingly take this journey, I find myself inhabiting new ground.  The process of shifting through ideas, feelings and beliefs and seeing where the internal meanderings leads me is exciting beyond description.  It is akin to a rollercoaster ride that lifts me up, drops me down and when I am least ready for it, spins me upside down.  Maybe that is my way - needing to be shaken up to allow what has been buried or hidden to rise to the surface.  

For as much as I seem to like using lots of words, writer is not how I identify myself. (Just as someone who eats a lot of cookies isn't a baker.)  Creative Explorer or Adventurer may be more accurate; perhaps I need to watch Bear Grylls for some vital tips and inspiration?

(I am riding waves of excitement as I shift through material for my upcoming offering The Gift of Practice.  I hate self promotion, but  each day I sit down to wrestle with the material and my experiences, I finish feeling more enthusiastic and committed to the practice of showing up for my life and my creative self. I have been busying recording interviews with some of my favorite people and am steeping myself in the richness of those conversations.  While my bank account may not be flush, I am feeling very full and rich with such inspiration fueling me onwards. If you feel curious or called to commit to yourself in a vital way, I hope you will consider joining the virtual gathering.  Further information and details can be found here.) 

video ♥

I've been crazy busy recording interviews for my upcoming offering The Gift of Practice.  I am having so much fun!  The opportunity to delve into juicy conversation around creative practice, spiritual work, integration of daily life with soul-full purpose has been an immense gift for me and I am excited to be sharing these conversations as a weekly component to the course.  Some of my favorite and most inspirational people have generously agreed to speak with me over a variety of practices including painting, art journaling, drawing, writing, poetry and photography. 

It is hard this working for oneself, but at the end of the day I fall into bed exhausted in a good way - exhausted because I've emptied myself out, but exhilarated because I am also being filled repeatedly day in and day out. As one of my guest interviewees put it: I've found and am following my yellow brick road.

I would love to have you on this journey with me.  As an added incentive to join, I am offering 45 minute one-on-one Skype or phone counsel sessions with me so that we can tailor the offering to align with your interests and needs.  If you know anything about me, it's that I am a master plate spinner and at any given moment have a number of practices I rely upon to support me in being fully engaged with my self and my life.  I would love to work with you to craft a practice uniquely suited to support you in finding your center, your spark of joy and source of connection to deeper purpose and meaning.  To qualify for the counsel sessions, you must register before midnight on August 24.  For more information and to register, go here.  I'm eager and itching to begin!

butterfly girl (August Break)

A summer tradition now ... The August Break ... pictures snapped amid the breezy days of August ... our last gasp of summer (school starts in two weeks - how can that be?) and there just isn't time to linger ... fun to be had ...

friends visiting and the requisite trip to the zoo 

the butterflies were rioting ... 

 

everyone of us receiving butterfly kisses and while I've never heard of this said, I'm choosing to believe that every butterfly extends to us a wish ... 

 

we were granted many, but mine will be for summer to live on in our daily pace and in attitude as we prepare to shift gears all-too-soon ...

I have something I've been incubating for some time now ... you can take a peek over here to find out more ...

yes, many butterfly wishes ... many, many, many!