Today marks Day 4 of my Master Cleanse, the third time I’m trying it, hopefully the first time I actually make it through all 10 days.  I’m not doing it alone, though.  My husband and two other couples are doing it, along with some others.  Were it not for the support, I would have already quit.  My constitution is weak.  I dearly enjoy a good meal and am blessed to have the ability to provide such.

But do I need lavish meals?  No.  I want them.  I enjoy everything about preparing a meal, no matter how much I might complain.  I especially enjoy when the meal is shared, when I can provide nourishment to others.  During the Journey class I’m taking, we took our spiritual gifts inventory, and hospitality is definitely one of my gifts.

Having elaborate meals is a want, but being in relation to others may very well be a need.  Dinner parties give me the best of both worlds, and my husband and I are deciding to make this a regular part of our lives.  Our goal, however, is to prepare healthy meals.  We just need some more planning.  When I have a list of resources, I promise to share.

What other ways can we consciously see where our needs and wants combine?  What wants can we truly give up, do without?  Are all our needs being met?  We may think we want a space of our own, but isn’t it really a need if it improves the quality of our life?

It’s a difficult topic, determining what is crucial to our “quality of life.”  At the core, our needs are the same.  Our layers, though, begin to differ depending on where we live, our society, our livelihood, etc. 

What are we doing to improve our own quality of life?  What are we doing to improve the lives of others?

One of the tricks to unblocking your creativity in Julia Cameron’s Artist’s Way is to take yourself out on an artist’s date at least weekly.  This is a practice that takes much courage and dedication but has benefits untold.  The goal is, of course, to help fill the well of your creativity so that you don’t run dry.

One of my recent artist’s dates didn’t start out as such.  It started with rsvp’ing to a friend’s open studio.  But our weekend got crammed with one event after another.  Even when the goings-on are fun, it is tiring to a family of six to coordinate such a circus!  I thought about not going to the studio, but I felt committed.  Deep inside, I really wanted to go; I just didn’t know if we could pull it off.

With a van full of kids and places to be, my husband waited in said van while I went inside – by myself – to look at the photographs and studio, to make my appearance as promised and to hopefully arrange for portraits of the kids.

I wasn’t expecting what I received.

When I closed the door behind me, I let go of the past.  I walked into the present, wide open to possibility.  Gorgeous, indescribable black and white portraits of people I know and don’t know lined the walls.  I visited with friends I treasure and don’t get to visit with nearly often enough.  A morning’s misunderstanding was cleared.  For the first time I realized that this was a treat for me.

I walked around into the studio, and instead of portraits, now I saw what the photographer entitled “Persistence.”  You’ll have to go to him for the story, but I think it speaks for itself.  The mostly floral images and the experimentation with technique and style whispered something to me I still don’t understand.  After a good fill of admiring, I sat and visited with this gifted photographer.

Again, this openness, this connection I wasn’t expecting.  A new friend, yes.  A fellow Scorpio and one appreciative of spirituality and the journey therein (you could tell from the books on the shelves).  As we spoke, an energy resonated from my heart/solar plexus (hard to be sure which), and about that time in our conversation he was saying something to the effect of how he is sensitive to the God within others, that he could sense it within me.

I didn’t ask for this; I didn’t expect it, nor the tears that swelled in my eyes.  I just came to arrange for some photos of my kids, photos taken by someone who could capture the soul of a person in portrait.  The photos will be taken and taken by someone who will recognize the God in my children; I got what I came for.  I also got an experience of Spirit, though.  I was in the right place, at the right time, with the right people.  I am who I’m supposed to be, if even for a moment.  Perhaps that is Persistence, too. 

The best things in life come when you least expect it, when you’re not looking for them.  The truth is, of course, that they’re there all along.

Friday the 13th’s are special in my household, not in a negatively superstitious way, but because my husband and I were engaged on a Friday the 13th many years ago, got married on a 13th, and apparently in goddess traditions, it’s a very good day/number for fertility, marriage and sex (which might explain the four kiddos!).  Add to that the fact that tomorrow is Valentine’s day, and we have a whole weekend destined for Love.

May today be a day of love for you and your partner, a day full of gratitude for your family, and may your heart be open all weekend (and evermore) to the abundance of love both to give and to receive.

Today marks one full year of blogging, sharing my life, stories and reflections.  I hope this year has brought you closer to everything you love in life, and I look forward to continuing the journey together.

(And please pardon my absence this week as I’m off to witness the miracle of birth, a doula’s reward.)

Photo from everystockphoto.com

Recall the last conversation in which you spoke from the heart.

Think of the last time you listened with so much awareness and presence that you truly felt what the other person conveyed to you through words.

When is the last time you maintained eye contact long enough to glimpse the soul and true feeling of the person across from you, not diverting your gaze out of societal propriety?

Forget the e-mails, the Twitter, the insincere chatter and texts of your day and seek out what is truly meaningful in relationships — we have to genuinely relate.  Our souls need contact.

Our recent ice storms left many without electricity, many without heat.  Neighbors came together and helped each other, visited with each other; they connected.

In our Women’s Leadership Circle curriculum we’re using in our women’s spirituality group at church, the meat of the curriculum comes from the conversation that conveys our experiences, our observations, reflections from our heart.  No book, brochure or digital anything is going to replace the connection of souls sharing in Spirit.

Many lost or man-made electricity, but the current of energy that Spirit provides may have just been given a boost.  I hope your power is restored.

I cherish the fact that once a week, a dearly beloved mama-friend watches my younger children so that I have a couple of hours to run errands or to simply be alone.  This morning, though I planned a grocery shopping trip, other errands presented themselves.

I delivered (late Christmas) packets to some of our local OBs on behalf of BirthNetwork, and instead of dropping a packet in inner office mail, I actually called the Director of Women and Children’s Services to schedule an appointment to meet in person.  As someone entrenched in the birthing community in our area, I figure this is an important person to know and to have open communications with.  This was a bold step for me and an important one for our organization.  I hadn’t planned to make this connection today.

In effort to resume my morning pages (a journal of sorts), I next stopped at a local coffee shop for a tasty beverage and reflection.  When I walked in, there was an older gentleman just ahead of me.  We made eye contact, and of course I smiled.  Naturally, it didn’t go anywhere from there as he ordered, and I waited.  But this man conversed with the barista and with nearly every person he saw.

I almost took my drink and left the shop.  I could just write in the van.  There wasn’t a side table available, and I didn’t feel like writing at a table in the middle of the shop.  But I halted before the door and sat in a low leather chair in the corner, beside the lone high chair.  Can’t get away from the kids, I thought with a smile.

I wrote, but the older man was in my line of sight and his conversations interesting.  My writing changed direction, and I began to wonder if I was supposed to talk to this man.  Would I regret not talking to him?  I remembered the book Celestine Prophecy.  If I felt an energy connection with this person, truly I would be doing myself a disservice by not speaking to him.

So, I closed my book and rose to leave, but I went up to this perfect stranger, gently touched his arm for attention, and asked, “I’m sorry, but do I know you from somewhere?  You seem familiar to me.”  Perfectly true.  Perfectly bold for me.  I had no expectations.

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he replied with a smile, and we exchanged introductions as we realized that we didn’t know each other.  We also exchanged small talk in an effort to establish some footing, I suppose, some understanding of where the other person comes from.  But this was small talk, generic conversation.  He is capable of much more.  What he does for a job is not who he is, just as being a mother is not entirely who I am.

He said he’s in there all the time.  I told him I would see him again, and I hope I do.  I’m so glad I listened to the inner voice that told me to say hello.  You just never know what each day might bring.

*I highly reccomend the iced cacao mocha at Arsaga’s. 

Rush, rush, rush.  After a slow morning, rushing is what we were doing to be out the door in time for my meeting.

“What’s that red thing?” Avery asked as I opened the door and closed it again to unlatch the lock.

What red thing?  I thought in complete disregard, maybe even annoyance, grabbing miscellaneous item and fifteen thousand bags.  That’s what it felt like, anyway.

I opened the door, and there at the doorstep was a drum-like basket, fluffed with red tissue paper, containing oranges and holiday mini-snickers (my favorites!).

I looked around at the other houses.  Did they have baskets, too?  Not that I could tell.  I dropped a few bags and set the basket on our entry table, quickly scanned for a card and decided I didn’t have time to wonder about it now.  Off we went.

When we returned home hours later, the basket still remained.  The kids ran around playing, and I decided to further investigate this holiday mystery.  I felt to the bottom of the basket, below the tasty goodies, and there was paper.  Between red paper was a card for my “sweet” family.  That alone melted my heart.  When I opened the card, hoping to find a name for this kind soul, all I found was money.

I couldn’t cry, for it was too rich a blessing, too kind and good.  I could only smile in disbelief.

Surely the spirit of Saint Nicholas prevails, alive and well.  I only I hope I live to return the blessing to others in the future.  For now, I give thanks to our angel.

I hope your Thanksgiving is filled with abundance, friends and/or family, and a warm, comfortable place to settle and rest and marinate in the deliciousness of a life filled with gratitude.

My day isn’t quite like that.  Mine is more of the get up and finish making everything, make sure kids and self are presentable, drive half an hour to one part of the family, eat too much, drive to another part of the family, help make more food, eat too much twice (dessert can be its own meal), spend half an hour trying to make a dent in the mess created, collapse on the couch for a bit and then drive home exhausted around midnight.

But I am blessed to have the family I do.  The more, the merrier, right?  I will gladly spread four meals of thanks throughout the month to get to spend time with my loved ones, and I do sincerely love them.

Complain as we might, some of my fondest memories and the best conversations are had while preparing meals and doing the dishes.  It’s like talking to a man while driving; you can get into deeper conversation there. Women talk well while driving, too, but for me, it’s best when sewing/crafting, cooking, dish washing . . . and, of course, over some tasty beverages.

May your love and conversation be rich, and may you be filled with gratitude.

Finally, I see where all the fall colors come from.  So often each tree changes to its one color, then the leaves drop and become the brown, crunchy mass.  This past week, I’ve seen trees in all shades, from blazing orange to fiery red to brilliant gold.  Yesterday I even saw one of the most beautiful fall maples with shades from green to yellow and red to orange.  If I hadn’t been driving, I think I would have stopped to bask in its brilliance.

There’s no doubt we’re in the midst of fall now; the leaves are quickly dropping, the nights are cold, the holiday goods are out in all the stores, and the lights being put all around the square.  Now I figure is a good time to be honest with myself and take a good look at where I am, who I am, what I’m doing and where I’m going.  I should have done this on my birthday, but I was too busy doing.  I’m getting signs that now would be a good time.  (I share this with you not to boast or brag or complain out loud but rather to encourage you to take time to do the same for yourself at some point.)

I ground myself in my writing.  To write, I must be still so as to receive the truth that is being channeled through me.  I have to be careful about my influences, for everything in my environment affects how I interpret any given moment.  When writing, I feel my closest connection to the Divine and feel that this is my right livelihood.  Going forward, I make a conscious effort to write more daily, be a productive writer and establish myself as such.

I craft to disperse the creative energy in a physical, practical way.  Perhaps if I channeled all my creative energy into writing, I wouldn’t need to write more, but I enjoy greatly using my goods, giving handmade gifts and teaching the children how to make thin  Now I will increase my skills with what I have and make what I need or need to give.  I would like to make a few things well to sell in an Etsy shop.  That would be nice.

My relationships with others I feel has always been golden.  I do my best to be authentic with them, to listen well and to be participatory.  With my children and husband, I have to make a conscious effort to love myself well so that I may love them wholly.  We are currently seeking a family counselor so as to address our needs, for raising kids is harder than we ever imagined it could be.  We need some help, and asking for help is completely okay.  It’s better to ask for help than to sink into despair, withdrawing from yourself and others.  May we be always honest, loving and respectful of ourselves and each other.

In the daily round, I am pleased with where my expectations are.  I’ve come a long way in understanding what I can and cannot do, steering myself away from the buckets of shoulds.  That’s not to say I don’t occasionally regress.  In a given day, like all mothers, I combine all my different roles.  I am at once a writer, wife, mother, spiritual seeker and birth advocate and educator/doula.  I’m sure that’s probably not even all aspects of my being, but they affect most of what I do, day in and day out.

As with the leaves, I am constantly changing.  Where I am today differs from yesterday and tomorrow, but if I can hear what I need from and for my soul, then I can visualize it and try my best to make it manifest.  To do so, I need some quiet, some time for me.  Thanks, Casey, for giving me that time yesterday when I needed it so badly.  Thanks, Kaye, for listening.

These past few weeks I’ve spent more time thinking . . . and reading . . . rather than writing.  I wouldn’t say that my well was dry or that I’ve spent time filling it.  I’d say I’ve been listening, which is the largest component in discernment.

In the coming weeks, I’m going to be working on a new site design, or branding, if you will.  I’m going to come up with a more consistent schedule of topics to reflect what is most dear to our hearts.  And probably most importantly, I want to work on building our community, sharing our stories so that we encourage each other along our journey, provide a little direction, maybe, if we need assistance.  Whether you’re a maid, matron or crone, you are welcome here, and I’m sure you have inspiring stories to share.  Contact me, and we’ll see how and if it fits.  Communication is what it’s all about.  Either leave comments or e-mail me — sara at everydaysimple dot org.  (trying to prevent spam!)

Together our stories weave a beautiful tapestry.  Collectively our creativity fluorishes.  Journeying together, the Divine is ever-present.  That is what being a woman is all about.