All posts filed under: Sense of Self

Momentary Silence

Watching Listening Reading Doodling Waiting Sometimes there is no way to explain the need for momentary silence, but I wanted to at least acknowledge mine.  I am still here, just silent for now, but I am keeping in touch via my Instagram while engaging in commenting and reading other blogs in the meantime.  I also have been writing a lot of letters . . . a lot of them. Head up.  Head down. Can’t do both at once, but in the meantime one can also strive ahead.

The Eyes Have Had It

“Stop making that face.” Don’t squint. Stop rolling your eyes. Always sleep on your back. Never rub your eyes even when they are itchy. Remove all makeup before bed.  No exceptions. Use non medicated eyedrops for dry eyes. Use under eye cream. Use under eye gel. Use sunscreen under your eyes. Don’t touch the area around your eyes. Massage around your eyes. Make sure you are gentle with your eyes. Growing up my mother had warned me about my expressiveness potentially being hazardous for my looks.  I don’t do “poker face” very well.  My whole face moves while I talk, my lips curl when I am self conscious, my brows move up and down while I listen and I look every which way as I think.  I am now about the age my mom must have been when she started telling me to stop doing all of that, and frankly, I get it.  She was right.  No, it’s not because I have a daughter whose reactions drive me crazy, whose eye rolls push my buttons. …

If I Dressed the Way I Pinned…

If I 100% dressed the way I pinned, my life would be so different. For the most part, wearing the clothes I pin would not work on the bus, and since I don’t drive I would then be forced to walk much more, but the heels I’d be teetering on, wedges or not, wouldn’t get me too far. If I dressed the way I pinned, that would likely mean I would need to start getting ready 60 minutes earlier than I already do, or planning my outfits the night before while my hair is set in a mask and my pores are shrinking back to recover from just being stripped. Dressing the same way I pin would mean not only that I would actually be rotating all of the shoulder bags, totes, and clutches in my closet regularly, but that I would actually be able to find them exactly when I need them. Dressing the same way I pin might even mean that some days, the pockets to my jeans would be enough to carry me …

Finding My People

Today as I was heading home, I had the great fortune of running into Ms. Mint. She is someone I have always liked and known for three years through work, but more recently became friends with after a casual instance of small talk one evening revealed we had an important interest in common.  I mean, is there really any other way to make an instant connection than that?  Since we hadn’t seen each other in several weeks, we caught up as quickly as five minutes would allow this afternoon, and talked about getting together next week before parting ways.  I immediately felt really really happy.  I remembered meeting certain other friends for the first time, and how some needed a definite warming up period before hand, while others were straight up laughter, confetti, and banana splits from day one (mutually felt of course).  It’s that synergy that occurs when we find our ‘people’.  So I dedicate today’s Be Happy blog hop to the power of instant connection. As I am writing, editing and rewriting this …

Taking the time to not be so crazy

Something occurred to me.  I decided to cut back at work, from full time to heavy part time two years ago, and now from heavy to light part time starting this week.  I can’t explain to you what is meant by heavy part time, if only to say, imagine being in the same place you meant to leave in order to get some head space and to make room for big changes in your life, only to still be there, two years later, not doing your old job at 40 hours, but doing bits and pieces of six other ones instead, with the same emotional and mental intensity that burns out your adrenals 30 hours a week.  Imagine self inflicting guilt on yourself to stay.  Imagine a trusted ivy league educated therapist who has worked with you once a week for three years reflecting back to you your own words describing an unconscious desire to move on from this job… but still staying.  Yeah…. crazy. So this week I am giving myself a break and …

Her

It’s funny how all of us look at other unsuspecting women with admiration & awe, but cannot imagine other women who might be looking at us the same way.  What do you think?   You know who she is.  Effortless.  Poised.  Pretty.  Cool.  When I was about six years old, there was a girl in my school who could sing, dance and was cute as a button.  She was a cheerleader, a brownie, and had a starring role in every school play and holiday show from what I can recall.  Everything she did, I thought was just right.  Her bowl cut was always shiny and perfectly curled under at the ends.  Her satin green bomber jacket gleamed in the sun.   I loved her classic black and white leather saddle shoes, and I asked my mom to get me a pair from Buster Brown to wear with woven navy knee socks, but I didn’t admit it was because I was trying to emulate a third grader.  Instead, my mother bought me a two toned brown suede pair …

In Defense of Chutzpah

“If we all did the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.” – Thomas Edison Speaking with a trusted confidante the other day, I spoke about this current desire to access the creative part of me.  I am not sure if its because creative energy is like a dormant volcano and its time has come, or because I am more confident and able to give myself permission to try doing more things again.  I am afraid I like doing lots of little things, but that I do them badly.  They don’t always look the way I want them to, so I just don’t do anything. In the mid nineties, still living in our family home, I took over the dining table and the lanai with all possible kinds of projects in progress:  clay beads, the beginnings of a simple bust, unglazed pottery, half painted canvases, smeared charcoal drawings, painted pots, colorful paper strips, etc. etc.  I was blessed with parents whose forbearance allowed me to indulge in my whims and express myself …