• the antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness

    the antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness

There’s one thing I’m really good at when it comes to creativity: signing up for classes.

Improv.

Art.

Songwriting.

Voice.

Piano.

Sailing.

But classes are just part of my fear when it comes to creativity. I’m so worried not being good enough at one of these activities that I spend my time searching for classes rather than figuring out how I can make it happen.

There’s a chart I have in my creativity journal from four years ago. Passion on one axis and confidence on the other. High passion and high confidence includes activities like my work. Skiing.

Low confidence and low passion = golf. That’s fine by me.

But it’s that quadrant that includes playing guitar (high passion low confidence) that haunts me.

Why do I spend my time being haunted? Instead of just DOING IT?

Tommy is looking at me so I’m going to try some chords on the guitar.

Doing it.

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I like goals. Sometimes too much. Often too much.

I want them to be big and ambitious and challenging and exciting and…

…then I wonder why I haven’t reached them yet.

I heard this suggestion. Super simple but led to a complete “AHA!” for me:

What do you like doing?

Doing? I like doing lots of things.

Well, do more of it.

Let go of the goal for just a second.

And do something.

…doing it.

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Not in a religious sense. Or maybe in a religious sense?

My old boss was the ultimate believer. Optimist to the extreme. Sometimes we thought he was nuts, often he was brilliant. But he believed in the things we couldn’t see yet. Sometimes things would fail, other times they’d spark, most of the time they’d lead to something new or a lesson learned or a relationship or a partnership that was worth it. But the power behind this belief is what I’m interested in.

I’ve told people that finding a role that I was excited about was a real experiment in — if you believe things will work out, they just might. I didn’t go in with an agenda, a script or an overzealous elevator pitch… I just showed up, as me.

And then I got hired.

S and I talked about houses and renting and buying and we just kept going back and forth until we wondered – if we believe things will work out, will they? If we trust in this process, will it?

We can make the most of many situations. My husband has that eternal optimist thing going on a lot.

I wonder what else I can believe in.

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When friends ask how it’s going, I have one word only: surreal.

Maybe…. dreamlike.

It feels like I’m living someone else’s life and haven’t fully grasped that this is now my reality.

I’ve always loved a challenge. Still do. And this, my friends, is a challenge. Uprooting your life and moving back towards home is a BIG change. But it also means that every day feels new, and adventurous, and challenging. It means I am constantly trying to get back to “reset” in order to be present as a mom, as a human. But this feeling of home — there’s nothing like it.

I was always skeptical of geography and how important it really could be. I have always felt the pull back east. And driving on 95 — with the music blaring — feels good. Smelling salty air while at the lobster shack — it feels good. This is where I belong.

We’ve alternated our days and hours between naptimes, beach trips, errands, unpacking, lobster rolls, and hosting visitors.

Yes, visitors.

We’ve had eight visits since moving into our house two weeks ago. That feels good.

We’re home.

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It feels like my brain might burst with all the things stirring in it these days. Or maybe that’s just who I am. The ideas, the questions, the hypotheses, the plans… I am taking things in at a mile a minute and wanting to produce even faster. What factors are driving the latest idea dump? 

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Yesterday we took a day trip to visit E&T who moved to Bremerton a few months ago. Fell in love with their new home and their new lifestyle (ferry commute). Thanks for the amazing brunch and good company. Highlights included a neighborhood tour; introducing W to a coloring book; spinach from erin’s garden; outdoor diaper changes; and the ferry ride back home with great friends. xo 

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A couple months ago, I was working from home on a Friday. My mom was here, and I ran down to the mail room to pick up a couple packages. Within ten minutes, W had a hold of one of them and he was mesmerized. A little explorer, looking in and out of the boxes, holding them over his head, putting things in and taking them out.

The box fascination has continued. I try to keep most of his toys in or around boxes for an added layer of curiosity.

Oh, and I love watching him. With a box. In a box. Outside a box. Next to a box.

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S and I grew a lot closer when we had baby W.

Gottman says that the biggest indicator of success when a couple has a new baby in the home is whether or not it’s a shared experience.

Lucky for us, it has always felt, from the day W was born, that we’re in this together. We became teammates and co-parents overnight. At times, it’s so easy and straightforward: I’ll do this, can you do that… a give and take. And there are times when we disagree so strongly on how to parent, or how to do something, that it’s hard to imagine we’ll reach a middle ground. 

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In my nine years in Seattle, I have never experienced a Memorial Day weekend quite like this past one. You see, summer usually starts in, oh, August. We might get a week of sunshine here or there in the spring, but Memorial Day weather has never been anything remarkable. Until this past weekend. 85 degrees and sunny. EVERY DAY OF THE WEEKEND.

It was a blast. We grilled two of the three nights; had friends visiting from SF; saw pals who have a babe a week older than W; sat in the sun; went to a BBQ (Sarah’s backyard is incredible right now); and got to taste homemade pizza. 

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