unafraid.

A lot of shit went down in February.

I dislike labeling things as "good" or "bad", but the events I am referring to wouldn't necessarily be considered positive in a traditional sense.  I said goodbye to my Grandmother for the last time.  I blew out my ACL on Valentine's Day resulting in a reconstructive surgery scheduled for the end of March.  Work threw a couple curve balls my way.  I faced the reality that Donald Trump will likely be the Republican candidate for POTUS (No. You know what?  I'm comfortable labeling this one as "bad").

Of course, these events couldn't be any more dissimilar or unrelated.  But they all had something in common that tried to quietly weave its way through them like a single black thread through a pale pink baby blanket.

The thread is fear.

Fear is such an interesting thing isn't it?  Our fears try to tell us they are there to protect us and keep us safe, when really they are holding us back and making us vulnerable.

Despite knowing full well it's not productive I would be lying if I said I don't occasionally experience fear or worry about life's "unknowns".  

Sometimes I am afraid:

• Of my kids getting older (how many times has someone said to me "Little kids, little problems, big kids, big problems!") 
• I haven't done enough meaningful work in my life.
• Of taking big risks.  
• The lines on my face are only going to multiply. 
• I've lost my creativity.
• I'm not able to be for someone else (friend, partner, family member) everything they are to me.

Yet as these less-than-ideal February events revealed themselves I started to notice so much light shining through the cracks in each experience.  One friend offered to teach me to knit (and drink wine) while I am on the sofa nursing my ACL post-surgery, while another dropped off an all-natural anti-inflammatory to help bring down the swelling in my knee.  I realized I reallllly like exercise and vowed never to take a healthy, functioning body for granted again.  Surprise bouquets appeared in my kitchen from girlfriends after my grandmother passed.  

Yet of all the unexpected surprises that came my way these past few weeks perhaps what surprised me most is how completely unafraid I am.

I made the decision to not delay my surgery.  I want to get it done as fast as possible so I can start getting stronger right away.

I remembered back to years ago when I first read Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth .  

He talks about letting go of fear by separating the self from the event.  He encourages being mindful of the words we use to describe what's happening.  Rather than thinking "I can't believe this is happening to me!" instead try "this isn't happening to me, this is just what is happening".  

Removing fear from a situation is almost effortless once we start accepting and stop making it personal.

(*the bible of all spiritual self-helpie books.  Completely worth the read if you haven't already...just ask Oprah.)

I didn't plan it, but I guess you could say I kept fear at bay with what could be considered a three-pronged approach:  

1)  Find the light in the dark (focus on the positive outcomes).  
2)  Do something. Get moving on the solution.
3)  Don't let it become personal. 

I also realized these tricky little life patches have actually become my favorite times.  I love it when circumstances force me to the table a little more than usual.  When leaving my comfort zone becomes almost mandatory.  When I'm forced to dig deep, learn more and grow...these are the places where all the best stuff happens.

Spring is alllllmost here kids.  Soon the grass will be green, the bulbs will be in bloom and the windows will be open.

...and I will be on crutches for about three weeks.  But you know what?  I'm not afraid.  

romance for real life.

A co-worker of mine (who also happens to be a dear friend) and I were recently having lunch while discussing life, love and relationships...you know, generally solving the problems of the universe over a salad in the office cafe.  I was smack in the middle of what I thought was a pretty enlightened rant when she stopped me mid-thought and said "For god's sake Juli, you are such a hopeless romantic.  You romanticize absolutely everything in your life.  Music, friendships, parenting, life...name it!  I mean, really - even your politics are romantic!"  

I laughed because after nearly twenty years of knowing each other my friend has totally got my number.  I do romanticize everything.

But why I wondered?  Why do I prefer the way life looks through the tint of rose colored (and preferably heart shaped) glasses?

No seriously.  I want these.

Romance takes on many forms.  It can be words, music, actions, things you say...or even things left unsaid.  True romance isn't just a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates is it? 

(Speaking of true romance can you believe True Romance came out in 1993?!?  Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette.  Yum.)

Annnnnd since February happens to be home to Valentine's Day, I thought this might be the perfect time to do a little research on romance.  What is romance anyway?  Why are we humans so drawn to it?  Where does it come from and how can we find it?

It turns out romance is defined in many different ways.  There are literary, linguistic and musical definitions of the word...but my favorite was this:

a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life

Exactly.  It's that electricity that lives in the ether where there are no grocery lists, no pick ups and drop offs, no work stress and no talking about money.  That mystery and excitement that only be found outside our everyday lives...right? 

Well, maybe not.  Maybe there could be plenty of romance in our life just as it exists today.  Maybe it's just up to us to create it.

Esther Perel is an internationally recognized thought leader and expert on relationships and sexuality.  She is also an author (Mating in Captivity), speaker, therapist and generally amazing woman.  She did an inspired Ted Talk on how to keep desire alive in long-term relationships.

I PROMISE THIS WILL NOT BE A WASTE OF TWENTY MINUTES. 

(I absolutely love what she says about not holding a person so close or pushing them so far away that you can't see who they are anymore.)

There are so many ways to create romance.  It can be...

• The electricity we feel from someone else's touch.
• Hand written letters.
• Preparing a nice meal for someone and serving it on the "good plates".
• Poetry.
• Surprising someone at work with their favorite smoothie.
• Playing music for someone.
• Getting dressed up just because.
• Making someone laugh.
• Taking the time to kiss your partner of many years on the lips (like you mean it).
• Looking into someone's eyes and not saying a word.

One thing romance isn't?  An accident.

Everything in the list above has one thing in common.  Intention.  Romance doesn't just happen.  It doesn't magically appear after the kids are tucked in on a Friday night while you and your partner are wearing sweatpants on the couch with your iDevices in hand.  

Romance is something we have to seek out.  It's something we have to create.  And, like anything else worth having, it takes effort...but the possibilities are endless and the reward can be huge.  

My friend was right.  I suppose I do romanticize the ordinary pieces of a relatively "normal" life.  But I do it with intention and purpose.  

I do it in hopes that I will find mystery and excitement tucked into the corners of my day.  I do it because I believe there is more than one way look at life and love.  I do it because I happen to prefer the view through heart shaped glasses.

Happy Valentine's Day friends.  I hope this is your most romantic yet.  xo - juli

the deep end.

Can you remember that morning?

The morning you woke up and there were little people waiting for you to get them breakfast and a glass of juice?  Or the morning the sick person you were caring for needed their medicine which meant there wasn't enough time to wash your hair before leaving the house? Or the morning your phone blew up with work related emails before your feet even hit the floor?  The morning when you looked around for the grown-up in charge only to realize you are the grown-up in charge.  That's the morning I am talking about.

The day you woke up and realized you were swimming in the deep end of life.  

The deep end has a way of sneaking up on us doesn't it?  It's a series of seemingly benign choices.  Little decisions that eventually grow into something bigger than we ever could have dreamed.   

We stack these little bricks on top of one another slowly, one at a time until we have built something we never thought possible...we have built a whole life.


The first brick reads "Meet someone special".
The second brick reads "Get to know them".
The third brick reads "Fall in love".

...then they start to read something like this (give or take):

• Dream about a future.  
• Create a home.  
• Invest in a proper kitchen table and some sofas that actually match.
• Buy a lawnmower that costs more than $200.00  
• Love that someone enough to create new little someones.
• Find a good pediatrician.
• Volunteer to be room mom and bring a veggie platter for the first grade holiday party.

Before you even know what happened you realize you have a close personal relationship with a tax person, a financial adviser, a pest control expert, a good electrician, a reliable plumber, an awesome realtor and a water filtration specialist.  You realize that the email to sign up for the preschool parent/teacher conferences isn't intended for everyone else on the distribution list.  It is intended for you.

The deep end can feel a bit overwhelming at times can't it?  I will admit that after two straight weeks at home with my kids over the holidays this not-used-to-being-a-stay-at-home-Mama was literally yearning for the sweet silence of my office.  All of the intense adulting I had done to create a special holiday for my family had me ready to take a long winters nap.  

And three shots of whiskey.

Then, toward the end of our holiday break I took the kids swimming at our local fitness club.  My daughter had just turned five and was literally begging for me to take her into the deep end of the pool so she could show off her under water swimming skills (I have to admit the girl swims under the water a whole lot better than she does on top of it).  When I told her she was better off staying in the shallow end where she can safely touch the bottom she pleaded "But Mom!  It's fine!  The deep end is fun!  I can jump...you'll see!"

As usual, the five year old was right.  She really can jump.  And who am I to tell her she should play it safe in the kiddie pool?

Sure, the deep end might be more challenging, but it is where all the good stuff happens.  It's where the excitement, the thrills, and the freedom of life reside.  While the deep end can be dangerous, it is also where we get to take all of life's chances.  The shallow end might be safer, but how much fun can we really have if we always stay in the 3FT area with our floaties on?

It was my daughters words, combined with facing the reality of losing someone dear to me that got me thinking.  I started to consider this New Year and the possibilities it holds.  I don't typically do resolutions, but this year I am promising myself to live life every day, all day, in the deep end.  

I am resolving to ignore the voices of my daily routine when they try to convince me I should mindlessly do the same things over and over, day in and day out without ever asking why.  

I am resolving to say yes as often as I possibly can.  

I am resolving to make my own sushi on a random Tuesday night just because.  

I am resolving to take more adventures.  

I am resolving to take more chances.

These are the gifts of being an adult.  Sure, we get to manage all the tactical responsibilities that come with home, work and family.  But we also get to experience the freedom and possibility that can only come from total independence and some life experience.  

Being an adult doesn't mean we don't have any choices.  It means we have more.  It doesn't mean our path has already been determined, it means we get to determine what our path will be.

We just have to swim as hard and as fast as we can toward somewhere, or something or someone that calls us.  Because we get this one chance, this one gift, this one life.  And every second is just too damn precious to spend our time standing on the shore.

All we have to do is take a really deep breath, and jump in.

Happy New Year Friends.  xo - juli

little whispers.

I heard once that life is constantly whispering to us...and if we ignore the whispers too long they will eventually turn into screams.  I actually think I heard it on Oprah which is strange because I've never really even watched Oprah...so I'm not sure how that's possible.  Either way I loved the sentiment.  We have all heard these little whispers in different ways in our lives haven't we?  

The whispers that say the fun little habit may have crossed over into addiction.  The whispers that tell us the trying relationship has turned downright unhealthy.  The ones that say it is time to look inward and focus on our personal growth and healing when we have given too much of ourselves away.  The whispers that tell us our passion could actually become the foundation for a whole new life if we wanted to work for it.  

Lately, my life has been whispering to me so loudly it's getting hard to hear Pandora.  The past few months have been a whirlwind combination of a sick family member, more business travel than I am used to, personal obligations, and family scheduling exercises that could confuse Google Calendar.  Throw Christmas prep on top of that pile, and well, put it this way - my house is messy and I don't really care.  That's where I'm at right now.

Rather than doing what I would normally do, which is to make sure everyone in my life has what they need from me first, I am trying something completely different.  I am listening to the whispers and giving myself what I need instead.  Years ago I started hearing (and totally ignoring) messages from my body to start taking better care of myself.  Then, a couple of months ago, despite having little free time, I signed up for a circuit training-type exercise class two nights a week.  

Not only did I sign up, but I am actually going and loving it.  This is a real first for me.  On top of my new-found affinity for exercise I have also been singing more than usual, writing less than usual, dancing more than usual, socializing less than usual, worrying less than usual and generally giving less of myself away than I normally do.  I have been focusing a little bit on (gasp) myself and it has turned out to be a very cool and introspective time of self discovery.

The holidays are a good time to go inside ourselves a little bit aren't they?  This time of year is perfect for reflection, introspection and pause to listen for life's little messages.  

For example, when:

• Your kids have been out late three nights in a row, have been eating nothing but candy canes all day and are crumbling.  Cancel your plans and stay home.
• You have been "over enjoying" holiday parties and are feeling like the next stop may be Betty Ford?  Put the drink down.
• You're emotionally disconnected from someone you love?  Spend time with them.
• You're feeling like a first world slouch who pulls the trigger on a $653.00 Amazon shopping cart full of things your kids don't especially need?  Give to charity.

like this one

or this one

Whatever the whispers are trying to tell you this holiday, pause for a minute and hear them.  They are, after all, just our inner voice telling us where we should be investing ourselves, our time and our energy.  What could be more deserving of our attention?

Let that voice guide your decisions down the path that will ultimately lead you to your happiest holiday yet.  The path that shows us all the magic, beauty and excitement we have the opportunity to experience every single day from the minute we open our eyes.  If we open our hearts, stay very still, and listen for the little whispers. 

Wishing you and yours a very merry everything.  xo - juli

seasons change.

Mirror in the sky what is love? 

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?  

- “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac

For me, there is no season with a pull stronger than the arrival of fall.  The crunching leaves, cold nights and shorter days seem to not-so-quietly whisper the need for change in our daily lives.  Lessons begin, school bedtimes resume, weekend sporting events replace beach days and suddenly everything in family life is dominated by the almighty schedule.

I can remember a time post-college when fall simply meant I got to decorate my apartment doorstep with mums and buy some cute new sweaters.  Today fall means I’d better get some rest and drink a Sugarfree Red Bull because my entire world is about to get turned on its head whether I have the energy for it or not.

So much change comes with the seasons of parenting small children.  As I watched my kids get ready for their first day of the school year (with varying levels of enthusiasm) I remembered back to what those firsts felt like for me when I was their age.  I can still remember the giant emotional smoothie that mixed anxiety, excitement, self-doubt and happy anticipation until you finally felt like the top was going to blow off the blender seconds before the school bell rang. 

My kids were no different.  I could feel their energy as they braced themselves for big change the same way I can feel the chilly night air on my skin. 

Being a mother has many upsides, but if after nine years in the game I had to pick a favorite parenting benefit, I would have to say it the way you suddenly remember.  For almost every life stage I have watched them experience I have remembered something about my own childhood that until that moment, had been long forgotten.  I have been reminded of people, places and situations that I may never have visited in my memory if it wasn’t for the gift of watching my own kids. 

Things just come back to you.  Things like. . .

• Showing my daughter where to place the silverware on the dining room table and hearing my mother say “Just remember, the spoon, the knife and the fork got in an argument.  The spoon and the knife were right, so the fork left”. 

• Building a snowman with my kids and picturing my father looking like a young Tony Danza (plus one huge late-80’s mustache) building the very same snowman in the front yard of the house I grew up in.

• Taking a long family road trip and remembering how I used to poke my head from the backseat into the front so I could hear what my parents were saying (wearing a seatbelt was pretty much optional in those days, so why not)?

• Reading bedtime stories to my kids and remembering my mother reading the very same books to me (Santa Mouse is a timeless classic, I don’t care what anyone says).

• Struggling to force an ill-fitting ski boot onto my daughter’s foot and suddenly being back at the very same ski hill as a little girl - hoping my Dad would be able to get my boot on before his fingers froze off (or my toes, whichever came first).

We remember all of it, don’t we?  Admittedly not every memory is perfect, but then, no family or childhood ever has been.  Not only do we recall these experiences, but we get to live them all over again, as teachers.  We build sandcastles, learn to swim, ride a bike, and get our hearts broken for the first time.

We watch the seasons change through the eyes of our kids and all the while our own childhood is playing on some dusty old VHS tape we recorded in our memory years ago.  It’s beautiful and emotional and sometimes painful - but it is a gift. 

In those precious moments of pure childhood bliss we get to be there with them, feeling that same freedom and lightness through the seasoned eyes of an adult.  Only this time, we know how much those moments matter, and what they’re worth. 

As the holidays approach I hope we are able to remember the experiences and feel the excitement that lit us up when we were young.  I hope the light that shines so bright in our kids reminds us grown-ups of the beauty that we can still discover in every first, in every change, in every year, and in every season.     

not for profit.

A couple weeks ago, on one of those perfect late summer afternoons,  I found myself walking down Main Street in our little town with three small children.  To occupy them (and to distract them from throwing handfuls of dirt at one another) I made up a game called "Who Can Find The Prettiest Leaf?"  What's that you say?  You've never heard of this game?  Well, neither had they.  

I conjured up this game as a lame and desperate attempt at keeping three rambunctious kids occupied...and wouldn't you know?  They totally fell for it.

They all set off running through every yard and open space in town happily and proudly shouting "LOOK AT THIS ONE!  THIS ONE IS THE BEST SO FAR!  THIS ONE IS JUST A BABY LEAF!  THIS ONE IS RED ON ONE SIDE AND ORANGE ON THE OTHER!"  

I was humbled, as I have been so many times before in my adult life, at just how much joy kids can experience without spending a penny.  Just being outdoors, enjoying a little healthy competition, some crunchy fall leaves and the company of one another was all it took.

Free of charge.

Around this same time we had been renovating the mudroom in our farmhouse.  The room was originally more part of the barn than it was the house and well, it needed some love.  The barn board walls are cracking, the knob and tube wiring is exposed and on particularly cold winter mornings you can see your breath in the mudroom.  For real.  

Rather than waiting for the money to gut the room and give it a proper Pinterest makeover (and since I'm perfectly capable of using a paintbrush) I got to work trying to make some sense of the space.  I "deleted" a bunch of clutter that had accumulated over time, hung some additional hooks for jackets, vacuumed up all the spider webs and bought a gallon of paint.  

I went shopping in the barn and found an old mirror hiding behind a bed frame that I didn't even know we owned (truthfully I didn't know we owned either item - the bed frame or the mirror).  After hosing it down with about a quarter bottle of Windex I hung it in the space above the kids' jackets.  It fits nicely, don't you think?

{Next up: painting the trim white}

I love the mudroom now.  And all for the cost of a single gallon of yellow paint.  I get a strange buzz from upcycling things I already have, doing something myself and not spending more than I need to.  

I always thought I was just a cheap Yankee but since reading "Better Than Before" by Gretchen Rubin I've learned it's actually more than that.  It's my personality type...and it turns out I'm not alone. 

This book is a great way to get to 'know thy self' better.  Gretchen defines what she considers the four major personality types by the tendencies they share.  She asks the reader to honestly evaluate how they "get a buzz" in life and explains how those behaviors, when repeated, ultimately turn into habits.  Our habits (how we establish them and how we can change them) make for a very interesting read...I promise.

As it turns out, I'm not just thrifty.  I genuinely enjoy using less, spending less, and having less.  Excess makes me uncomfortable and clutter makes me twitchy.  Only having as much as I need, and not more, gives me a buzz.  It took years for my husband to convince me I should be buying family value packs of consumables like soap.  One bar at a time is just part of my DNA.

it would take FOREVER to use this much soap.

Not everyone is built this way - which is of course, a good thing.  There is no shame in shopping and the economy needs retail spending.  Just ask Trump, he'll tell you all about it.  

Speaking of people who like to fuel the economy, Khloe Kardashian recently had her Range Rover wrapped in black velvet.  The very definition of practical spending.

{I had to read this headline twice before I understood it.}

She was quoted as saying it is like her car is "rocking a Sean John sweat suit".  That's good I guess?  Like, in case your SUV gets chilly?  Still, I can't help but wonder how many goats could have been purchased for families in developing countries for the same price as her velvet SUV "wrap job".  Probably a lot. 

Just for giggles, let's all try out one new not-for-profit activity this fall and see how we like it.  Maybe something like...

• Pack a picnic and take a hike.  
• Go for a bike ride to a lake or river and skip rocks. 
• Build a teepee.  
• Put on a hoodie and make a fire in the backyard on a school night.  
• Throw a party where nothing is for sale.
• Ride to the top of a hill and watch the sun set over an orchard.
• Spread out a blanket in the yard after the kids are asleep and look at the stars. 

Play a game of who can find the prettiest leaf.

Forget your wallet at home and get outside to enjoy this season of change and wonder friends.  Then please share your adventures with me here.

I would love to listen...free of charge.  xo

who we aren't.

Where does August go?  This last stretch of late summer almost has a frantic feel to it at times, don't you think?  We try to squeeze all the things we hoped to accomplish into the last few precious weeks of kid freedom before the new school year begins.  See the people we hoped to see, visit the familiar places that summer traditions are made of, and of course, take some new adventures along the way.

Our most recent adventure involved my clan visiting a farm in central Maine for three days of what I will describe as "summer camp for the whole family".  We slept in a tent, ate all our meals outdoors and got our hands (and feet, and faces, and ears and just about every other body part one can imagine) dirty.  We were 100% off the grid with no running water, no Wifi, no cell service, no land line telephone and no electricity.

There could have been a zombie apocalypse last weekend and we would have been none the wiser. 

When we first arrived and headed to our tent to unpack our things my husband looked at me nervously and said "are you going to be okay here?"  The honest answer would have been "NO!  Of course I'm not going to be okay here!  Did we just meet?"  But in the name of being a happy camper (and since the whole thing was my idea in the first place) I simply replied with a cool "Of course I am.  Are YOU going to be okay here?"  

Mind you, this is the same man who completed a half year wilderness leadership training program and does 24 hour mountain bike races through rain and mud.  For me to ask him if he was going to be okay with two nights of glamping was 100% ridiculous and we both knew it...but he played along and told me he'd be just fine.

photo I took of our tent before my phone battery died.

So in we dove.  

The kids set out with chipper attitudes and dirty feet to fulfill my Mama dream of a family summer vacation that doesn't involve a water slide or amusement park.  Despite our glass-is-half-full outlook those first few hours on the farm were a little hairy, I'm not going to lie.  

Then, somewhere between wondering if I had made a terrible mistake and wishing we had packed some wine after all...a funny thing happened.  We pulled it together!

Patrick and I stopped giving each other dirty looks and started putting a hand on a knee or giving a tap on the back when we needed it.  We all started checking in on one another to make sure we were "doing okay".  We realized we have family inside jokes!  Who knew?  We belly laughed about the giant toad that hopped on Patrick's foot while taking a solar shower, and our daughter asking me for a high five as we peed side by side on the "2-holer".

We appreciated our hosts for all that they are while being gentle on ourselves for all that we aren't.  I stopped feeling silly and ashamed for being the kind of girl who enjoys coffee, sparkly things, warm showers and the occasional US Weekly magazine.

I just loved these two together.  Also, Ben Affleck and Jen Garner???  Ugh - such a bummer.

  

We opened our minds and started to learn.  And learn we did.  

Things We Learned From the Program:

• Get serious about recycling.  For real this time.
• Serve the kids smaller portions at meals so they can eat what they have and ask for more if they want it.
• I want to grow more food.
• How to make whipped cream from scratch.
• My hands are capable of using tools other than a keyboard and mouse.
• Read more books with no pictures to the kids.
• Our basement can be used as a root cellar to keep apples and such through the winter.  It has a dirt floor - why not?
• Think more about the planet, the things that live on it, and the impact we have while we're here.

I also learned how to make this basket.

Things We Learned About Us:

• We enjoy cleanliness. 
• If given three hours of free "family time" we will use it to have hot wings, cheese fries and beer at a local pub.
• It turns out we're all pretty crafty in our own way.
• We're loud (especially me).  We talk loud, we sing loud, we laugh loud we like our music loud.  And mostly we're okay with that.
• We need to cut back on sugar.  
• Laughter and not taking ourselves too seriously are a big part of who we are.
• Reggae is the only music we all agree on.
• We are a team.

My people.  Eating wings like they had been locked in a closet for a week when we should have been on a hike or something.

So, while my idyllic vision of our family wilderness weekend didn't exactly pan out the way I thought it would - it ended up being an entirely different kind of gift.  We did, of course, get an education about homesteading and sustainable living during our time on the farm, and that was great.  But the really important learning we did was about one another.  

Because in the process of finding out who we aren't, we came together.  

And got a better idea of who we are.